While you might’ve been watching the Opening Ceremonies for the 2026 Milano Cortina Winter Olympics, I was… also doing that.
But to beat the crowd and hopefully remind non-disabled people that the paralympics exists, I was also reading up on every single mascot the Paralympic Games has ever had – for better, or for worse.
In what should only be read as a lighthearted comedic blog and absolutely not my entry into diplomatic commentary, please enjoy my personal ranking of every Paralympic mascot – from 1980 Arnhem to 2026 Milano Cortina.
22: Blaze (1996 Atlanta Summer Games)
Boring!
This fire chicken looks like he would have bullied disabled kids at recess. He looks like he sits in the accessible seating section of the bus, and doesn’t even look up when someone with a walker needs that seat. He looks like he double parks in accessible spots.
I don’t trust this guy with an open flame, I don’t trust him with the PR of disabled athletes.
Next!
21: Ray of Light and Snowflake (2014 Sochi Winter Games)
Obviously, their appearance is unsettling. Looking like 2000s Microsoft Office assistants cursed with sentience, they make you check your surroundings out of the corners of your eyes.
But their appearance is unfortunately the least jarring thing about these two.
You would assume they are humans, and would believe this is a creative reversal of the tendency to dehumanize disabled people – particularly with the olympic mascots being a polar bear, hare, and leopard.
Nope!
They are actually aliens! That look like humans! Space travellers who came down to earth to invent sledge hockey and wheelchair curling!
THEY AREN’T EVEN DISABLED!
What makes this harrowing entry even worse, is that these things were voted by a jury of Paralympians.
Sometimes, it’s your own people.
20: Mandeville (2012 London Summer Games)
Another entry from the 21st century that has you squint, tilt your head, and ask “what the hell were they thinking?”
Mandeville, named after the city that failed to provide a proper peer to Dan D. Lion during the 1948 Summer Games, is literally a piece of metal.
A piece of leftover metal from the rafters of the Olympic Stadium.
Don’t worry, it gets worse.
His eye is a CAMERA.
Which I do not believe is a clever take on how disabled people are under increased social surveillance and pressure to conform.
Not even remotely.
This personification of the panopticon or police state, depending on your persuasion, represents friendship.
Keep your friends close, and keep whatever this thing is far, far away from me.
19: Aster (2006 Turin Winter Olympics)
It is worth noting that, compared to the Olympic mascots that year, Aster is only somewhat ugly.
It is also worth noting that Aster existed in a time before the phrase “liberal snowflake tears” would characterize a time of increasingly violent political polarization.
HOWEVER!
The idea of a snowflake representing how we (and by we, they mean us disabled people, not we) are all different?
Especially since the paralympics are based on categories designed to group disabled people that are as similarly disabled as possible.
Listen, in the pre-Glee era, this was probably a breakthrough. If it works it works, and it works until it doesn’t.
18: Dan D. Lion (1948 Long Island & Stoke Mandeville Summer Games)
Let’s all give Gramps here a hand for being the mascot of (what is generally considered to be) the first ever Paralympics!
Or at least, half of it. (The other half, occurring in Mandeville, UK, was mascot-free.)
Created by a local art teacher and named by a class of severely physically disabled students, Dan D. Lion has heart. He was accepted by the community. He was the original ally.
He also has a kind face and a whimsical aura. I would ask him to watch my drink at a bar. I would not feel the need to cross the street if I was walking alone at night.
Dan D. Lion was unfortunately implicated in a Soviet Bloc boycott of the Olympics – where a boycott of the paralympics was deemed unnecessary because they “didn’t have disabled people.”
Weird thing to say!
Let’s move on.
17: Fu Niu Lele (2008 Beijing Summer Olympics)
Listen, she’s cute, she’s whimsical, she’s forgettable.
Apparently she symbolizes both the striving of para-athletes for progress, and mankind-nature relations.
Which is great and all, but when the Olympic mascots are the Fuwa (good luck dolls based on the five natural elements) – I want more than a panda.
You know what a great element is? Style. Flare. Personality.
16: Parabbit (1998 Nagano Winter Games)
Honestly, I don’t know what to make of Parabbit.
I think the school kids that voted on the name absolutely knocked it out of the park here: para, rabbit, parabbit. Incredible.
But I’m not sure what it is supposed to represent. Who this thing is trying to be.
And above all, why it only has one ski pole.
15: Proteas (2004 Athens Summer Games)
This cute little guy seems absolutely whimsical, until you learn the Olympic mascots that year were HUMANS!
Tell me what is wrong with this picture:
olympics = humans
paralympics = seahorse
And it gets worse! Apparently, a seahorse was selected to “convey the nature of the competitions.”
WHAT NATURE?
Now, if someone did somehow develop a mermaid tale it would absolutely qualify as a disability. However, until that happens, I’m not understanding the whole seahorse-disability connection.
14: Lizzie (2000 Sydney Summer Games)
Now this is where the ranking really starts to kick off.
May I introduce the court to a frill-necked lizard voiced by Olivia Newton John?
May I also introduce the court to the only official mascot not arguably upstaged by folk hero and controversial unofficial mascot, Fatso the Fat-Arsed Wombat?
Further, may I also also introduce the court to Fatso the Fat-Arsed Wombat?
Australia, keep doing you.
13: Paralympic Phyrge (2024 Paris Summer Games)
Besides… that… and it not having a name…. and it looking like that…
Look, at least “Paralympic Phyrge” (its apparent government name) is disabled. At least it is showing off that prosthetic.
PP, as I’m calling it, is also described as a “party animal”, “spontaneous”, and “a bit hotheaded.”
Now that is disability representation.
(It better get better than… this.)
12: Bandabi (2018 Pyeongchang Winter Games)
You are going to look at Bandabi and think, “aw, cute!”
NO! It is a half-baked recycled imitation of the beloved Gomdoori – a former (and better) Paralympic mascot from the same damn country!
Now I love Asiatic Black Bears more than the average person, but I KNOW South Korea has more to offer.
Ignoring the fact Bandabi’s existence is a disparaging spin-off, I’m arguing Bandabi is a bisexual icon.
With banda meaning half moon, and bi meaning celebrating competition, this is the disabled bisexual icon we have been waiting for!
Unfortunately, our newfound icon is a controversial public figure: Bandabi was described as representing the enthusiasm of the players in the Paralympics so that they can overcome their limitations.
Bandabi is secretly ableist, pushing disabled people to be less disabled.
A sleeper ableist, if you will.
11: Noggi and Joggi (1980 Arnhem Summer Games)
To continue our tour through the old folks’ home, let me introduce you to the OGs.
Yep, the squirrels were the first every Paralympic mascot – a mere eight entire years after the first Olympic mascot was introduced in Munich…
While squirrels were chosen because they “frequent the forests surrounding the arena” (read: literally lying around), they were seen as representative of Paralympians as they “crack hard nuts.”
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!
As you can clearly tell since one of these squirrels is a pantsless freak and the other is wearing a dress, they are husband and wife.
Which, in a way, is the biggest win for disabled marriage equality to date.
(Disabled people risk losing their provincial disability assistance benefits if they marry and their household income increases, whereas squirrels don’t believe in the institution. Legislated disability poverty, not marriage.)
These squirrels were also created from a crocheted model, and if I’ve learned anything in my time with arthritis, it’s that chronically ill people love little crafts.
10: Shuey Rhon Rhon (2022 Beijing Winter Games)
I think Shuey Rhon Rhon is just delightful! And sometimes, that’s all we really need a mascot to be!
This sweet perfect angel is a Chinese lantern, representing harvest, celebration, warmth, and light while ringing in the Chinese/Lunar New Year!
The attention to detail is fantastic: her design incorporates paper-cutting art and a pattern of a dove and the Temple of Heaven – but I want to focus on her face.
Allegedly, the “snow” on her face promises a fruitful year – but I know better. Our queen, our icon, our peer is disabled just like us.
Shuey Rhon Rhon has a facial difference, only she’s not ready to own it yet.
But I believe that if we, as a community, band together, we can create the empowering space she needs to embrace her true identity.
9: Petra (1992 Barcelona Summer Games)
The only reason the first actually disabled Paralympic mascot is ranked here is because, when compared to the infamous Cobi, you can tell she was treated as an afterthought.
And because, with love and respect, she’s just a girl! I get we’re going for beauty and perseverance in the ordinary or whatever, but a mascot is supposed to be a mascot!
Petra is actually based on mascot designer Javier Mariscal’s friend and plastic artist Lorenza Böttner, who was a trans woman with dual arm amputations and HIV.
Which is a beautiful tribute to such an influential friendship, and incredibly progressive for its time, but it goes beyond caricature. Which means, it can’t be a mascot.
Petra, you are so many things that calling you a mascot seems diminishing.
8: Alpy (1992 Albertville Winter Games)
While he might not be the peak of Paralympic mascots, he is the summit of Grande Motte mountain!
I am also choosing to believe this guy is disabled.
He appears to be on a mono-ski, minus the whole sitting in the bucket part – at first glance.
Yet upon further consideration, I asked myself: do mountains have butts? What if he’s sitting on the mono-ski bucket, and we just can’t see it?
While I don’t need to see it to believe it. That’s disabled kin.
7: Someity (2020 Tokyo Summer Games)
Somehow, this superhero manages to avoid the whole super-crip overcoming narrative through sheer love of the game.
Our invisibly disabled icon is locked and loaded with superpowers – just like her Olympic counterpart!
While superpowers are usually invoked to “inspire” the non-disabled and make our lives as disabled people look like something terrible to overcome – Someity bravely shows us how sick having superpowers would be for most of us.
Telepathy? I get to communicate with my brain. No need to enunciate my words (did you know I had a speech impediment? fun fact…), no need to make sound, no need to hear sound in return.
Flying? That sounds like a low-impact activity for my joints, count me in. The idea of being able to just fly places instead of trudging through the snow or fighting for my life on public transit is simply overwhelming.
Telekinesis? Moving things with your mind might be the ultimate mobility aid. Imagine it: you come home after work, in spoon deficit, and can’t physically cook dinner under the exhaustion. Then, you just think about making dinner – and it happens.
You drop something outside of your mobility range? Swoop, back in your hand, just like that.
Annoying ableist questioning your disability or giving you weird looks in public? Throw them into the sun!
(If there’s some sort of Captain America-style superpower program going on, I am free.)
6: Tom (2016 Rio Summer Games)
Carrying on with the theme of unexpected accommodations, Tom represents Brazilian nature and can pull anything out of his branchy head. Anything.
That cost-prohibitive walker? There it is.
An ergonomic mouse? Here ya go.
A wearable heating pad? Get at it!
Now I wouldn’t say that Tom is disabled himself (though who am I to speculate, really) – Tom is disability ally #1.
But he isn’t loud about it.
He knows allyship is an active practice embedded in accountability to the community you’re in solidarity with.
Tom doesn’t take up space in the room, he makes space in the room.
Forget a seat at the table, Tom will pull a seat out of his head for you.
Thank you, Tom.
The only reason Tom is ranked here and not higher, is because he was not thrown into the wrestling ring by coaches to challenge referee’s calls the same way his Olympic counterpart was.
All I’m asking for is equal treatment. Equal commitment to the bit. Controversy based on our actions, not portrayal.
5: Otto (2002 Salt Lake City Winter Games)
At first glance, Otto just appears as a regular old (kinda swaggy) sea otter.
But he’s so much more than that.
First, he vehemently rejects extractive capitalism.
With the three Olympic mascots Powder, Copper, and Coal named after natural resources, Otto rejects the exploitation of our natural world for capitalist profit. Otto instead embraces nature, going so far as to be an otter himself.
That’s commitment!
While this is purely speculation, I’m going to argue Otto is rocking some form of neurodivergence.
The goggles and the gloves? Despite being a sea otter, physically designed to self-insulate and remain waterproof? To address his sensory sensitives.
Avoiding bad textures and bright lights, Otto also loves para skiing and ice sledge hockey – though, of course, he wouldn’t actually be allowed to compete.
Not because he is an otter, but because he wouldn’t fit in the classification categories.
4: Sumi (2010 Vancouver Winter Games)
Canadians, please do not kill me for putting Sumi 4th.
Listen, Sumi (and MukMuk, and Quatchi, and Miga, and no I didn’t have to look that up) did the impossible: they treated the Olympics and Paralympics so equally, I had no clue Sumi was the Paralympic mascot. I really, at the time, had no idea there was a Paralympic mascot.
Because they operate as a pack, it didn’t really give Sumi the time and space to shine – which is the only reason she’s at 4. That, and she’s just not disabled.
Speaking of pack, MukMuk was working double time – acting as sidekick for the Olympics and Paralympics. Sounds like hyperactive ADHD to me, but this is supposed to be about Sumi.
Sumi is absolutely dripped out, wearing the hat of an orca whale, the wings of a thunderbird, and the legs of a black bear. Her name comes from Sumesh, the Salish word for guardian spirit, and I know she guarded over me as I played her online computer game for hours.
For teamwork, nostalgia, and mainstreaming, I’m happy to put Sumi at 4th.
3: Sondre (1994 Lillehamer Winter Games)
What a fascinating guy.
In what has become one of the more intriguing trends, this is not the first time we’ve seen a non-human mascot when the Olympic mascots are… well… human.
And this feels a little worse because he’s a troll. Like an actual troll.
One of those Norwegian trolls. And like, maybe I don’t know enough about these dolls and should assume it’s some sort of compliment… but why the hell is is a troll?
That aside, Sondre is one of us. And we should uplift our own. It’s not his fault he’s a troll.
But he is responsible for being a skier with enough confidence to wink at us as he flies by.
Not only is he disabled, he’s an athlete. He has personality, and he’s not afraid to break the mold.
And somehow that really checks all my boxes here.
2: Gomdoori (1988 Seoul Summer Games)
I promised you would meet him and here we are: meet Gomdoori.
One of the first entries into Paralympic mascot history, I think they knocked it out of the park!
First, there’s a real story: Gomdoori (plural?) are Asiatic Black Bears, also known as moon bears, modelled after the constellations of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.
That’s the level of creativity and cultural tie-ins I expect.
Now, this is the part where you’re asking: Carly, are they disabled or not?
Who am I to say?
They both have arthritis.
My rationale: my arthritic twin and I (also arthritic) have CRUSHED every three-legged race we have ever participated in.
Which clearly means these bears have arthritis.
I don’t make the rules.
The two bears being tied together is supposed to represent brotherhood, guidance, and cooperation between the Olympics and Paralympics – but we all know it’s a cleverly subtle cultural critique of the portrayal of disabled people as dependent.
The Gomdoori (now confirmed to be plural) also subvert another common portrayal of disabled people – taking us from victims of violence to perpetrators.
I do not know why the hell one of them has a stick menacingly gripped in their hand – I just know they’re armed.
Too often, disabled people are only considered victims of crime. And wouldn’t true equality empower us to commit crimes on an equal basis with our non-disabled peers?
I think we all know the answer to that.
1: Milo (2026 Milano Cortina Winter Games)
No one else could have been number 1 here. And it wasn’t even close.
As far as I’m concerned, Milo has reinvented the wheel – giving us a refreshing, stylistic, meaningful, and youthful mascot with personality, poise, and persistence.
A stoat, just like his Olympian sister, he’s meant to symbolize innocence and purity. And while this could have easily veered into paternalistic territory, this innocence is celebrated – equally so at the Olympics!
While it’s first instinct to shrug off anything remotely resembling harmful stereotypes, it’s important to recognize we contain multitudes – some of us are pure and innocent, and Milo isn’t afraid to lean into that!
Milo and his sister, Tina, are also the first officially Gen Z mascots. I think Gen Z is going to seriously challenge and alter how we think about disability, so Milo is definitely representing the community in a reflective way.
Speaking of youth, what terrifies me about Milo and Tina are that Italian schoolchildren drew them. Aged 6-14. What are they feeding them over there? Genuinely?
And we haven’t even got to his disability yet. Milo is disabled – on purpose! I don’t have to come up with some backstory!
Milo was born without a right leg, and uses his tail in a prosthetic-adjacent manner. And it’s not in your face at all, the way non-disabled portrayal of us tends to be. The media portrayal sees Milo’s disability the us disabled people tend to see each other – as we are.
You’ve gotta watch this clip introducing Tina and Milo (again, on equal, snowy grounds!) Not only does Milo get equal screen-time, he’s an utter shithead!
The video quite literally opens with him launching a snowball in his sister’s face. Equally capable of violence. Beautiful.
Milo also has a personality – he’s an inventor! And while I’d be wary of Milo contributing to the growing wave of technoableism, where technological interventions are designed to ‘solve’ disability, I’m considering him innocent for now.
With an actual personality, incredible design, and a delightful narrative, Milo was always the clear winner of this ranking.
I just put it here last so you had to read through the whole thing.
Where to Watch The Paralympics In Canada
CBC Gem will be streaming the paralympics for free online at https://www.cbc.ca/sports/paralympics/streaming-schedulefrom March 6th at 1:30pm ET all the way until March 13th at 11:30pm.
Sources
Wikipedia’s List of Paralympic Mascots
International Paralympic Committee’s Paralympic Games Mascots