Some will catch the Big Red Bear — Cornell’s beloved mascot — ice-skating at Lynah Rink between periods at hockey games. Others may notice him dancing on the field at Schoellkopf between halves at football games. Still others will see him dancing up and down Ho Plaza, riling up students on their morning walks to class.

Although the tradition of the Big Red Bear is currently upheld through the efforts of a dedicated team of students, the origins of the mascot dates back to the beginning of the 20th century, when a real live bear frequented Big Red sporting events. Getting pumped: The Big Red Bear pumps up the crowd at a hockey game with his dance moves.

Touchdown, the Cornell bear, was initially introduced to the Cornell community in 1915, according to John Foote’s Touchdown: The Story of the Cornell Bear, which came out last year. It was a different time for the University — the football team was considered a national powerhouse and wild bears instilled laughter rather than fright for Cornellians.

Despite the introduction of the real bear mascot, Cornell was, back then — and is currently now — without an official mascot, according to the Alumni Affairs website. The Cornell teams are officially called the Big Red, with the image of a bear serving as an unofficial mascot.

The name Big Red came about in 1905, despite Cornell Athletics’ existence since the 1870s.

The introduction of Touchdown I, as the first predecessor to the Big Red Bear would be called, is often rumored to have been a publicity stunt to bolster ticket sales, according to Foote. Foote claims that in reality the little black bear was brought to Schoellkopf with no particular agenda in mind. It was merely a matter of opportunity.

A trainer in Maine, apparently without prompting, wrote to S.E. “Booty” Hunkin ’16, the manager of the 1915 football team, inquiring whether they desired a mascot. The trainer happened to have a black bear cub for $25 that he thought would fit the position perfectly.

Touchdown I made his introduction to the Cornell community during the second week of the 1915 season against Oberlin, according to Foote. The Big Red defeated Oberlin, 34-7, improving to 2-0 on the season — a successful beginning to the Touchdown-era of Cornell football.

According to Foote, Touchdown I started off his Cornell career in a quiet manner. He would be tethered to the field for the games, but he would not do much more than that. Conversely, the Big Red football squad was making noise on the field. Many deemed Cornell the best football team in the east — and with resounding wins over Gettysburg College, Oberlin College and Buck­nell Uni­versity, the Big Red was proving its worth. With Cornell’s increasing success on the field, and with a looming matchup against Harvard the next week, Touchdown I was on the verge of gaining a much higher profile.

The Crimson had a 33-game winning streak on the line as it faced off against Cornell — and it wanted to leave little to chance in order to guarantee a victory.

According to Foote, at 4 a.m. on the morning of the game, several students told the clerk at the hotel that they had to take Touchdown outside. While masquerading as Cornellians, these individuals were actually Harvard students coming to kidnap Touchdown. By the time Hunkin heard of the treachery, Touch­down was nowhere to be found.

Foote noted that the team was demoralized. The 4-0 start had coincided with the appearance of Touchdown, and going up against the Crimson and its current winning streak without a good luck mascot seemed like a task too daunting to surmount.

But it turned out luck was on the side of the Big Red. Frank Sheehan, the trainer for Cornell, heard a whimpering noise near the football stadium when he went to prepare the team’s quarters. He eventually figured out Touchdown was being held in the baseball cages. From there, a series of events fit for a Hollywood screenplay began to unfold:

“The managers assembled a posse which included Sport Ward ’11 and several other loyal alumni and motored to the field,” Foote wrote. “The janitor there was obstinate. He would not unlock the cage without orders from the Harvard football manager.”

But with Touchdown in reach, the posse would not be stopped. After convincing the manager to allow them into the office to use the telephone, the Cornellians grabbed the keys from the manager, threw him into the office, and locked him inside. “The rest was easy, for the posse had the keys,” Foote wrote.

The posse ventured to the baseball cages and sprung Touchdown loose. They then called for a taxi, and, with Touchdown sitting beside the cab driver, rode back to the hotel before the game.

Having won the initial battle before the game even started, things were looking up for the Big Red. Touchdown was performing his patented pre-game antics of climbing the goal posts to the adoration of Cornellians. The Big Red wound up beating the Crimson in the contest, 10-0, en route to a perfect 1915 season. After the season, Touchdown I was sent back to Maine, never to set foot in Ithaca again. It was feared that as Touchdown would get bigger, he would become more dangerous. With the departure of Touchdown I, however, went the perfection of the following season.

The 1916 season initially looked like it was going to be a carbon copy of the 1915 one. While Touchdown II might not have been the same bear, The Big Red started off the season 3-0 before facing Harvard in week four. Unfortunately, this time Cornell’s luck was not as good — they fell to the Crimson, 23-0; the first of two 23-0 losses in what would become a disappointing season.

As the country was thrust into the global conflict of World War I, many typical operations on Cornell’s campus were halted. Foote explained that Touchdown III did not make an appearance until 1919 “the first ‘back to usual’ campaign following World War I.”

After Touchdown III, Cornell’s campus was bear-less until 1939. Despite opposition from the athletic department, Touchdown IV was still brought to campus in 1939 — sparking the Big Red's second perfect season.

Today, while the Big Red Bear is still not the official mascot of the University, it is one of the most well-known images on campus. Nina Coveney ’11, vice president of the Cornell Big Red Bears, believes the “many faces” of the Big Red bear has led to its popularity. Additionally, “just generally having a mascot is an important thing because it embodies the school,” Coveney said.

While the bear today is a spirited Cornellian in a bear outfit rather than a real bear, their purposes are largely the same. Coveney said that each person donning the bear costume tries to get the crowd upbeat before the game, similar to their Touchdown predecessors.

In one game, Touchdown I even knocked out the Pennsylvania University football team’s coyote mascot before a game. And while the current Big Red bears have not had the same altercations with a Penn student in a coyote uniform, she said that during a hockey game against Boston University last year at Madison Square Garden, the Big Red Bears had to pretend to hate the terrier B.U. mascot, despite getting along with them before the game.