On May 3, graduating seniors from Lyman Briggs College's class of 2026 walked across the Breslin Center stage as their names were called, shook hands with the dean and provost, and received their diplomas, marking the end of one journey and the beginning of another as Spartan alumni.
For one Briggsie, John Morrison, that joyous milestone was amplified by an emerald-hued secret: it was the day he could finally reveal to his roommates, friends, family and professors that he had secretly been Sparty for 3 1/2 years.
Once he walked across the graduation stage in those iconic green-and-white boots, he would never be Sparty again.
Morrison never set out to be one of the nation’s most well-recognized college mascots, particularly for Michigan State University. The Clarkston native was dyed-in-the-wool maize and blue — an ardent University of Michigan fan in a family of U-M alumni. He grew up attending football games in the Big House, so it seemed like a foregone conclusion that he’d attend U-M once he graduated from Everest Collegiate High School.
So, his senior year of high school, Morrison enthusiastically applied to U-M. The high-achieving student had a strong college application, but he was waitlisted. His secondary option was MSU. He ultimately chose Lyman Briggs College, drawn by its close-knit community and strong reputation for preparing students for medical careers.
After committing to LBC, John expected his college experience beyond the classroom to be defined by athletics, not mascoting. He set his sights on joining the MSU track and field team. He trained all summer, building on his successes as a competitive state champion track athlete. That fall, his plans changed dramatically when the track team announced it would not be taking on new athletes that year. It was a disappointing turn of events, changing his extracurricular plans at MSU.
'More people have been to space than have served as Sparty'
A few months later, a recruitment email from the MSU Alumni Office opened a door Morrison never expected. The bold opening line grabbed his attention. He tried out for the role in the spring — a highly competitive process — and was selected. He would spend the next 3 1/2 years as Sparty.
Morrison said jokingly: “Being the face of MSU was a pretty good way of getting back at U-M.”
Becoming Sparty proved far more demanding than Morrison had imagined, in terms of time, travel, fitness and maintaining complete confidentiality. Students who serve as Sparty must keep their identities secret until graduation and remain in good academic standing. Morrison recounts that the Sparty program director said, “You’re here to be a student before being a mascot.”
Balancing the role and his studies required remarkable discipline and organization. Between dozens of appearances each year, a demanding human biology curriculum and physician shadowing, Morrison maintained a perfect academic record, becoming the first Sparty to graduate with a 4.0 GPA.
Earning that perfect academic record came with sacrifices. Morrison didn’t have a typical undergraduate experience. He had to tell his friends he couldn’t spend time with them, over and over again. But he was buoyed by the fact that being Sparty was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He was willing to sacrifice the time to do something great.
Medicine had long been part of Morrison's life. Influenced by family members who practiced osteopathic medicine and by watching physicians care for his late grandfather, he developed an appreciation for the profession at an early age. His fascination with biomechanics and physiology eventually led him to pursue medical school.
Despite the sacrifices, Morrison says being Sparty was incredibly rewarding. He loved bringing joy and happiness to people on campus and across the country. The challenge of remaining silent in costume allowed him to observe people more closely, a skill he believes will serve him well as a physician. “Reading people is a highly valuable skill in healthcare," he said.
As Sparty, Morrison encountered people from all walks of life at local events, football games, basketball tournaments and weddings. Embodying the muscular, strong, proud and kind persona was a way of communicating Spartan spirit and care. He even participated in physiology research related to mascots, which was presented at the University Undergraduate Research and Arts Forum and the American College of Sports Medicine.
The most meaningful moment of his time as Sparty came during his final appearance, visiting the Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital in Grand Rapids. Morrison recalls being so happy to be there, interacting with patients, and that the children’s joy was palpable. One very young patient lit up when he saw Sparty. Because the child was in containment, he couldn’t come into the hallway for a hug or fist bump. So Sparty put his hand against the window for a high-five. The young boy’s mom lifted him to the window, and he put his hand on the glass to high-five Sparty. Though separated by glass, the exchange said everything. For Morrison, it perfectly captured what being Sparty had always been about: bringing joy, comfort and connection to others.
Looking back, Morrison says he’s happy he didn’t go to U-M: “MSU and LBC were a perfect fit. Every moment was awesome.”
As he begins medical school this fall at A.T. Still University Kirksville College of Osteopathic Medicine in Kirksville, Missouri, Morrison leaves behind one of the rarest roles on campus. More people may have been to space than have been Sparty, but for Morrison, the experience became something even more valuable: preparation for a career devoted to connecting with and serving others.
This story originally appeared on the Lyman Briggs website.
