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This mascot is of chief concern

THE 94TH ROSE BOWL / Bill Plaschke

January 01, 2008|Bill Plaschke

The toughest guy at the Rose Bowl stormed into town last week, and hasn't slowed down since.

His solemn face was spotted at Duke's Malibu, on the Santa Monica Pier, at Universal City Walk.

His one-syllable name was chanted at the airport, outside bars, up Melrose, down Colorado.

His shirt was worn by thousands from Oxnard to Newport Beach.

The toughest guy in the Rose Bowl has been banned by the school, condemned by the NCAA, and ruled offensive by the very people he is supposed to honor.

Yet, today, at halftime, he will show up at the game.

At some point during the University of Illinois band's show, Illini fans will rise and cross their arms in imitation of his favorite pose, then slowly shout his name.

"Chieeeeeef"

They are calling for Chief Illiniwek, the longtime Illinois mascot who was deemed, "hostile or abusive" by the NCAA and eventually banned by the school last winter.

Except he's still here.

You can buy his memorabilia in the school-sanctioned bookstores, see his resemblance on oddly painted fans outside home games, cheer his supporters as they march in the school's homecoming parade, and feel his presence at the university's highest reaches.

During a game earlier this season between Michigan and Illinois, a university official walked onto the field to receive an award.

It was a cold night, but he was wearing a T-shirt.

A "Chief" T-shirt.

"It was astounding," said Jason Dollarhide, the 2nd Chief of the Peoria Tribe of Indians of Oklahoma. "I thought, 'Why don't these people give it up?' "

On that night, in a stadium filled with thousands who called themselves "Illini," Dollarhide was the only real one there.

His tribe is comprised of the last descendants of the Illini federation of tribes, which were forcibly moved out of Illinois in the early 1800s.

In 2000, his group passed a resolution opposing Chief Illiniwek as a "degrading racial stereotype."

It was a resolution that led to the NCAA condemnation, which led to elimination of the mascot . . . which has become stronger than ever.

"I don't know why a university has to keep alive something that speaks of racism," Dollarhide said. "It just fascinates me that people have to hold onto something that is so hurtful to others."

Dressed in orange and blue, excited about his team's first Rose Bowl appearance in nearly a quarter of a century, the passenger in the LAX rental car shuttle couldn't help himself.

"I-L-L!" he shouted, repeating the refrain from the first half of Illinois' most popular cheer.

Normally another fan would retort, "I-N-I!"

But this time, someone else on the bus responded with something far more meaningful.

"Chieeeeeef," he said.

The best battle in today's Rose Bowl might not be on the field, where USC is expected to overwhelm wide-eyed and outmanned Illinois.

The real battle will be in the stands, in the minds of those who insist on cheering for an invisible Native American mascot, and those who will find it offensive.

Those who cheer the Chief say that opponents are politically correct posers who don't understand.

They remind people that the Chief has been part of the university's tradition since 1926. They say he quietly represents the school's heritage, and its students' values.

"It's in the mind-set of the students, it's our history, it's who we are," said David Shief, a sophomore treasurer for the Students For Chief Illiniwek group.

Those who boo the idea say that if you know you are offending the tribe you are supposed to be honoring, why do you keep doing it?

They note that the Chief is supposedly an Illini, yet wore the regalia of a Sioux, one of the Illini nation's traditional enemies. They note that his dance was also not a traditional Illini dance.

Said Dollarhide: "I love it when they say they are honoring us, yet they never ask us how we want to be honored, and this stereotype is not it."

The battle is not just between university insiders and outsiders, but deep within the university itself, deep enough to reach the football team.

Said linebacker Brit Miller, who grew up in Illinois: "Heck yeah, I've got my Chief T-shirt. The Chief will always live with us, he'll always be part of everything we do."

Said safety Kevin Mitchell, who grew up in Indiana: "Nah, I don't have a shirt. It's not like I'm going to get an interception just because the Chief is around."

This battle has been fought on a broader scale in recent years, with national debates over the fairness of such names as the Washington Redskins and Atlanta Braves.

But while professional sports organizations have been unwilling to touch a matter that involves millions of dollars in merchandising, the NCAA issued an edict in 2005 that banned 18 schools using Native American imagery from wearing those images during postseason events and from staging postseason tournaments.

Some of those schools, such as Florida State's Seminoles, were allowed to keep the mascot because the namesake tribe approved.

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