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In spring 2001, then University of Arizona student Kristina Harris picked up a copy of the student-run newspaper The Daily Wildcat while on campus.

As she flipped through the pages of the paper, she saw something that stopped her in her tracks — an ad that said something along the lines of “Are you fun? Athletic? Goofy?”

The ad detailed upcoming auditions for the school’s mascots, Wilbur and his wife, Wilma T. Wildcat.

“Huh ... I think I could do that,” she remembers thinking to herself.

Harris (née Gonzales), a Tucson native and Cholla High School alumna, had no prior mascot experience (or even a desire to be a mascot) before college. But, there was something about the idea of being Wilma that drew her in.

“I think when you’re on campus, you’re trying to find your place, trying to find a way to get involved,” she says. “Mascots are such a visible part and representation of the university. I thought, ‘Oh, that’ll be really fun.’ ”

Little did Harris know at the time that ad, that moment in 2001, would alter the trajectory of her college experience and who she was as a person.

After following the directions from The Daily Wildcat ad and sending in her application, she was called for an in-person interview. The interview included a round of questioning, including scenario-based questions where you have to think on your toes, from members of the UA cheer program.

Although Harris applied on a whim and somewhat for the fun of it, she was pleased when she was invited back for a live audition, where she would get the chance to play Wilma at a women’s basketball game for only several minutes.

That’s when it got real for Harris.

Before that moment, she had never worn a mascot head and she felt worried that she would get claustrophobic or have a panic attack upon putting on the costume.

“As soon as I put on that suit, I just had that moment of ‘OK, I have license to go play with the band and interact with the fans and say hi to people and stand with the cheerleaders and cheer alongside them,’ ” she says. “I mean, it was just an amazing experience.”

The audition may have only been for 10 minutes, but her personality shined throughout McKale Center and landed her the role of Wilma, which she held until she graduated in 2003.

Throughout that time, Harris participated in numerous sporting events, especially women’s basketball games, and activities around campus including when the UA student union reopened after a lengthy renovation in the early 2000s.

Harris says attending the ribbon cutting ceremony for the newly improved student union was somewhat of a full circle moment for her. The renovations were ongoing when she started at the UA as a student, one without a clue as to what she wanted to study or do with her life, she says.

To go from that innocent freshman trying to find herself to one of the most recognizable faces on campus was unexpected for Harris.

But that moment and the ones that followed are something she or the Wilbur and Wilma’s before and after her wouldn’t change for the world.

“Here I was, the most well known person on campus, as a mascot, but nobody knew it was me,” Harris says. “And it was like a superhero kind of experience because you’re doing all these things and you’re appearing on TV, or you see your picture in the paper and it’s like, ‘That’s me,’ but nobody knows. So, it’s one of those experiences where it really does change your college experience and makes it even more memorable.”

The best kept secret in show business

While having the most notable face on campus can sound exhilarating, it’s actually a lot of work to keep the real identities of Wilbur and Wilma under wraps.

When students earn the role of Wilbur or Wilma, they agree to keep their identities a secret from, well, pretty much everyone. Yes, including those closest around them like their families, friends and loved ones.

If that sounds challenging, it’s because it is.

But it’s a necessary means that has kept the magic of the university’s mascots alive for decades. After all, the UA doesn’t want to ruin the mystery behind their beloved icons. That would be like unmasking a certain life-size rodent at a certain theme park in California, if you catch our drift.

Eventually the big secret is revealed when the students’ times are up as Wilbur and Wilma, usually after two years. Often these reveal ceremonies are held during the halftime of a basketball game.

At least that’s how it went for a recent Wilbur and current UA fine arts student, Xavier Urias, who just “retired” from the mascot post last year.

During a basketball game in March 2024, Urias had his big reveal to close friends, who had no idea he had spent his first two years at the UA as Wilbur.

The game started out normally as he sat in the stands with his friends, but just before halftime, he snuck away.

He hopped into a large-scale box and made his way down to the McKale Center court, with a little help from the UA cheerleading squad.

It was there that he popped out of the box and was greeted by an excited crowd, including his friends who were surprised to see him down there.

“All my friends were mind blown,” Urias says. “The whole secret thing ... that was one of the most exhilarating parts because everything that you did was heightened. Everything was more exciting. Everything was more secretive and sneaky and mischievous, which I had so much fun with, and when I did my last appearance, I just knew that whatever I left on the floor was my best, and I’m just really proud of that.”

When Urias’ extended family found out about his venture as Wilbur during a Christmas Eve party before the public reveal, there were happy tears from some of his family members.

In true holiday spirit, Urias descended down the stairs at the family Christmas Eve party as Wilbur, but not just the normal Wilbur you see on the sidelines — Santa Wilbur.

At first, the whole house went quiet. But then the room erupted in screams upon realization that Urias was Wilbur, he remembers.

“My house has never been louder than it was at that moment,” Urias says. “All my cousins were screaming, and my uncle was crying, because the U of A is everything to him and ... people were ecstatic.”

Not only did Urias keep his Wildcat-sized secret from friends and family, he also kept it from school colleagues while working at The Daily Wildcat.

With student media, Urias worked on the comics desk, often drawing storylines about Wilbur, but his comic coworkers had no idea he was Wilbur.

Urias jokes that he was living a Spider-Man/Peter Parker lifestyle, by dressing up in a cool costume and having those close to him remain clueless of his true identity.

But all of the sneaking around was worth it to Urias, a Tucson native and Marana High School alum, who says he left Wilbur better than he found him and ready for future Wilbur’s to carry on the deep-rooted traditions of the university.

“It means everything,” he says. “It means something bigger than yourself. It means representing my town, representing all my friends, my family, all the people I go to class with.

“... It’s a lot of community service hours, and it’s a sacrifice, because all the people that were Wilbur and Wilma before me, they understand that it’s because you love it, it’s because you love the school and it shows and how you use your time, and if you use your time giving back to the community and putting smiles on people’s faces, then I genuinely do believe that we have one of the biggest impacts on campus, just because our presence is contagious, and there’s so many little things that we’ve done that amount to such a huge outcome.”

New face, same spirit

For the past 60-plus years, Wilbur Wildcat has looked relatively the same.

He’s always had a fuzzy exterior and always found a way to represent the university, whether that’s with a block “A” sweater or a football jersey.

He’s had some upgrades through the years (hello, cowboy hat), and a few downgrades, too. (We can’t forget his cowboy attire, complete with a gun and holster from the 1970s).

But the number of changes on the outside is incomparable to the number of changes on the inside of the costume. Over the years, hundreds have donned the great furry ensemble, including Mark Hartman, a native Phoenician who played Wilbur from 2000 to 2002.

Hartman is one of the many Wilburs who worked hard to maintain the characteristics of Wilbur that the community has come to know and love.

“There’s a lot of heritage passed down,” he says. “We try to carry on Wilbur’s signature traits, things we’ve learned, all those things, and it’s pretty cool to see that passed down to develop the character over time and keep the character of Wilbur.”

Small things, even high-fives, poses and little dances, are all mannerisms that have to be taught and carried from person-to-person to ensure continuity — that way, the public never knows when there’s a different Wilbur in the suit.

However, that’s a lot harder than it sounds.

Being Wilbur (and Wilma) takes blood, sweat and tears — literally.

Behind the scenes, there’s a lot of prep and training that goes into being the head mascot of a Division I university.

Hartman remembers spending plenty of time at the campus’ recreation center, doing a fair amount of push-ups and a lot of cardio, he says, adding, “you have to be ready to run up and down the stairs wearing (what’s like) a fur coat,” especially in the Tucson heat.

Joe Previte, who was Wilbur from 2015 to 2016, remembers doing specific exercises that help strengthen your neck to bear the weight of the mascot head.

During his live audition process, Previte recalls doing a lot of one-handed push-ups before running around campus in the costume to interact with students on the spot.

“It was one of the coolest experiences of my life, so far,” he says.

Even with all the prep work and training, there are some things you just can’t quite prepare for.

When Harris, as Wilma, was heading toward a women’s basketball game on the stairs of McKale Center one day, she heard a noise behind her. In the suit, she didn’t have enough time to turn around to see what the noise was or that the “noise” was headed straight for her.

As she faced the court, she was suddenly taken out from behind by an elderly man who had missed a step and tumbled down the stairs, straight into her.

Harris ended up tumbling toward the bottom of the stairs, along with the elderly man.

Fortunately for both of them, the fluffy Wilma suit helped break his fall and Harris was only left with a few bumps and bruises after the incident.

An unexpected fall, especially a fall where you can lose your head, is one of the worst things that can happen to you while being a mascot, Harris says.

“That fall definitely was one of my fears,” she says. “I was like, ‘I don’t want to fall. I don’t want to bring disgrace (to Wilma).’ ”

But for these former students, all moments were good moments to be Wilbur or Wilma, even the unplanned ones.

Once in a lifetime opportunities

Aside from the perpetual popularity and recognition, Wilbur and Wilma get something that many people strive for in their lives — once in a lifetime opportunities.

They make appearances at big events, like college football bowl games and the Final Four. They star in TV commercials and pop-up at national award ceremonies. They meet people they may not have had the chance to meet otherwise.

Hartman can still recall the time he, as Wilbur, held the World Series trophy after the Arizona Diamondbacks took home the title in 2001.

“I barged my way into holding the World Series trophy. Without being Wilbur, I would have been tackled by security,” he says. “Wilbur was welcomed in with Luis Gonzalez. So, somewhere there’s a picture of him and I holding the World Series trophy when it came to Tucson. And you don’t get to do those things if you’re not Wilbur.”

Previte had the opportunity to represent UA as Wilbur on stage at the while Brad Paisley performed “Country Nation.” He danced alongside other college mascots during the performance.

While these experiences were extraordinary, these opportunities were just another day in the life of Wilbur Wildcat.

“It just made me feel extremely connected to the university, even years later,” Previte says. “It definitely feels like it’s ingrained in my identity.”

We’re all Wildcats

For some previous mascots, becoming Wilbur or Wilma, was a spur of the moment decision fueled by opportunity and some would argue, young-adult impulsivity.

But for someone like Christina Tellez, she was destined to become Wilma.

Tellez is a native Tucsonan, current graduate student and fourth-generation Wildcat.

She grew up going to UA basketball and football games with her family, and you can still find her dad Michael tailgating on the UA Mall several hours before home football games.

When Tellez finished up her time as Wilma earlier this year after a three-year stint, it was bittersweet.

“There were a lot of tears last semester,” she says. “I’m doing grad school and everyone always mentions, ‘You could have kept going,’ but to be Wilma is such an honor. So, I wanted to end on a really good note, and now I can and I just love talking about it. I’ll bring it up all the time because it just feels like she was my identity for the past three years. So, I’m definitely still connected (to her).”

From 2022 to this year, Tellez spent day in and day out putting every ounce of energy she had into being Wilma.

She helped grow her social media following and would even stay up until 1 a.m. making costumes for Wilma, her favorite being a purple sequin dress she thrifted and a handmade “2025” headband for New Year’s Eve.

“I took it with such pride. I think what I put in, is what I get out,” she says. “Because I very well could have gone to the games and done my part and dance and whatnot. But every game for the past three years, I made sure to put my all, put my 110%. ... I just thought it was such an honor to represent the U of A and that it was my responsibility to build Wilma’s personality and presence as much as I could in three years.”

To mark the end of her Wilma journey, she got a tattoo of her Wilma signature on her shoulder.

By the end, the experience had become even more of a family affair as her brother Adam joined the cheer team. Those moments she spent alongside her brother, cheering during halftime shows are some of her favorite memories.

She’s also had memorable moments with other members of the cheer squad, like head coach Vanessa Romeo and assistant coach Courtney Broome.

Since Tellez is a Type 1 diabetic, she would give little bags of candy to Romeo and Broome before each game or event she was at. When she felt like her blood sugar levels were all over the place, she would give them a little signal that she needed a break ... and some candy.

Having a medical condition and performing at full throttle was difficult at times, Tellez says.

But over the years, the program has welcomed Wilbur’s and Wilma’s from all backgrounds, embracing them for who they are while working directly with them to ensure a smooth experience.

Carolyn Jaedecke, who was Wilma from 1999 to 2001, was one of the program’s first deaf Wilma’s.

Throughout her time with the program, cheerleaders, other mascots, athletic directors and the cheerleading coach were all “incredibly supportive,” she says, noting that they all took the time to learn about working with a deaf mascot.

The mascot program ensured Jaedecke’s safety in every way possible, from cheer stunts to emergency protocols.

During cheer stunts where her fellow cheerleaders would lift her into the air, they made sure to tap her foot three times, signaling Jaedecke that it was time to prepare for a safe landing.

So, she wouldn’t get lost in the chaos of a possible emergency at a game or other performance, someone from the cheer team or the athletic department knew where she was at all times.

Everyone’s teamwork and willingness to adapt helped make Jaedecke’s experience as Wilma a positive one.

This Wilma kept the UA and deaf community connected during her term by visiting the Arizona School for the Deaf and Blind on Speedway at least once or twice a year.

And although it’s been over 20 years since she last officially donned the suit, Jaedecke says she still feels deeply connected to Wilma.

“(I) love sharing my experiences with my family and friends,” Jaedecke said via email. “Being Wilma will always be a proud and meaningful part of who I am. It reminds me that with faith, determination and teamwork, anything is possible.”

More than a costume

Life could’ve been very different for these Wildcats had they not become Wilbur and Wilma.

For Previte, there was a real possibility that he didn’t become Wilbur.

While at the UA, he had contemplated switching universities to attend Arizona State University. At the time, his girlfriend attended ASU and he was worn out from having a long-distance relationship.

Transferring to ASU was becoming more and more of a reality for Previte. He went to orientation there and even got a Sun Card.

But as the transfer started to become real, he began to think about all of the fun memories and friends he made while at the UA.

So, he decided to stay.

That decision created what he says felt like a “multiverse” that led him to where he is today.

Previte could’ve graduated a year early, but he opted to stay for a fourth year. In that time, he became Wilbur and joined Arizona Mortar Board, one of the most prestigious and competitive organizations on campus.

“That was the most incredible year and life-changing year of my experience,” he says. “I met my now wife, I was Wilbur, I was in Arizona Mortar Board honorary. A lot happened because of that.”

The Wilbur/Wilma impact reaches far beyond school, though. For some of these previous mascots, Wilbur or Wilma were there for some of the most important moments of their lives.

In late 2009, Harris, who at the time lived in Virginia, had returned home to Tucson for the holidays with her then boyfriend, Joel Harris.

One place he wanted to see while in Tucson? The UA campus.

Excited to show her boyfriend around the campus of her alma mater, she had no idea that “Wilbur” was about to change her life all over again.

The duo, along with her family, started their campus exploration at Old Main, where she gave a rundown of the history of the building, until Joel says, “I have to go to the restroom.”

While waiting for Joel to return from the bathroom, Harris and her family remained at Old Main.

A few minutes later, Wilbur appears from the student union with two cheerleaders in tow, heading straight for them.

Confused as to why Wilbur was on campus in the middle of winter break, she chats with the cheerleaders who say they’re heading to a practice. She then shares with the group that only a few years ago, she used to be Wilma.

As the conversation continues, one of the cheerleaders says to her, “Wilbur has something to ask you.”

Behind her, Wilbur was down on one knee with a ring in hand. That’s when he removed his head, revealing that it was her boyfriend Joel all along.

“He’s proposing and the first words out of my mouth were, ‘How did you get this suit?!’ she says.

Behind the scenes, Joel had been working with Arizona Athletics for months to make this moment a reality. The couple wed a year later.

“It was just surreal and it all happened at once,” she says. “But it was amazing. It’s such a fun story to share, especially when people know I was Wilma.”

A lasting legacy

Over the last several decades, Wilbur and Wilma have represented something bigger than just the Wildcats.

They represent countless students who step onto the UA campus every year looking to find themselves.

They represent the storied tradition of what it means to “Bear Down,” win or lose.

They represent Tucson and its diverse communities outside of the UA campus.

And none of these Wilburs and Wilmas from the last 25-plus years have taken that responsibility lightly.

“It’s a very high privilege and honor because when you’re in the suit, I am representing this important piece of a culture and you know what it means,” Previte says. “Because you’re going to the games, you’re interacting with the fans and they’re feeding off your energy. You’re going to events, you’re engaging with the (university) president at halftime during football games. You’re going to schools, interacting with kids. So, you play this huge role behind this mask.”

To this day, the mascots of each decade have remained close, despite starting careers and building families. They stay in touch in large group chats or reunite at homecomings.

To them, Wilbur and Wilma wasn’t just a moment in time, it’s a legacy they’ll carry forever.

And if given the chance to do it all over again, they all would in a heartbeat.

“I think I lived a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Tellez says. “Not a lot of people can relate to that. I would just have such a different story to tell if I did not do it, I know that I would’ve regretted it for the rest of my life.”