The man behind the hide: Phil Caragol’s impact and experience as Buffalo Phil
A 7-year-old boy had a lesson to teach Buffalo Phil.
During his usual gameday duties, Phil Caragol approached the young fan and asked if he wanted to cheer with him.
The boy took his hand and led Caragol down the bleachers to the wall behind the team’s bench.
“He looks at me and goes, ‘Buffalo Phil, I'll show you how to cheer!’” Caragol recalled. “And he goes, ‘You gotta believe! You gotta believe!’”
For the 73-year-old superfan, the moment was a turning point.
“If a little 7-year-old can do that, I can do this,” Caragol said. “He was my inspiration, that little guy.”
Sixteen years later, Buffalo Phil still roams Folsom Field in his Buffalo hide-coated Viking helmet, rallying fans one section at a time. What started as an attempt to lift the spirits of a struggling football team’s crowd has become part of Caragol’s identity.
Caragol has made himself a fixture of Colorado football Saturdays. Dressed in the horned helmet, face and beard paint and an ever-growing collection of accessories, he traverses Folsom to rally the home crowd, high-five young fans and welcome visitors to Boulder.
But Buffalo Phil is more than a costumed super fan.
A 1975 CU graduate, former advertising executive, author and longtime community volunteer, Caragol has built a life around entertaining and giving back. At the stadium, he sees his role as more than generating noise, but also uplifting fans and making them feel part of something bigger than the game.
“When I'm there, it's more than cheering. It's very connected to the crowd,” he said.
Caragol didn’t return to Boulder until 2010 and didn’t expect to become one of the most recognizable faces in the stands.
After graduating with a degree in mass communications, he lived in Manhattan and San Francisco before starting his own advertising agency and returning to Colorado.
But before leaving the Bay Area, Caragol received an unusual going-away gift: A cheap Viking helmet transformed into a Buffalo headpiece with pelts from a fabric store.
At his first game back, his purpose began taking shape.
“I honestly did not know what I was gonna do with it,” Caragol said. “At the first home game, there were all these long faces in the stands … and, all of a sudden, I knew what I was going to do with that helmet.”
He returned for the next game wearing a “rudimentary” outfit in a yellow jacket and the helmet. But he wasn’t quite ready to become the character fans know today.
“I sat in the stands up there for about an hour, talking to myself, going, ‘Come on, you can do this, go down!’” Caragol recalled.
Eventually, he made his way down and shouted for the fans to get loud. Only a couple of people responded. But the hardest part was over. Caragol put himself out there, and he kept coming back.
Although the helmet made him recognizable, the entertainer had always been inside Caragol.
“I’ve always been a showman,” he said. “I’ve been in musical theater. I have a one-man songs-and-stories show. I play guitar … I love entertaining people.”
These days, his creative energy takes different forms. Caragol writes memoirs about his life, drawing on his experiences growing up in Long Island, New York and attending CU during the 1970s.
He published The Blunder Years based on those accounts and is working on a follow-up about adulthood, marriage, parenting and his career.
He also devotes time to community service. Caragol is a volunteer with Habitat for Humanity, guest lectured at CU’s College of Media, Design and Information and mentored hundreds of students.
The breadth of experience can get lost beneath the beard paint and fur. As Caragol sees it, Buffalo Phil is one part of a much larger identity.
“I like to uplift people, so it's not just showmanship,” he said. “And that’s the higher purpose, really.”
For Caragol, game day is a carefully choreographed routine. The two hours he spends painting his beard with mascara and assembling his accessories are only the beginning.
He tries to arrive on campus at least two hours before kickoff, visiting tailgates and sometimes stopping by the Alumni Center before heading to the Field House.
There, he helps fire up fans, then follows the marching band out and makes his way around Folsom.
His first stop inside the stadium is the visitors' section.
Despite the imposing helmet, face paint and dark sunglasses that conceal his eyes, Caragol makes a point of welcoming opposing fans to Boulder. He shakes their hands, asks where they're staying and checks whether they're enjoying their visit.
He then works his way around the west side, high-fiving fans, playing games with children and visiting fans with disabilities who sit farther from the field. When the pregame festivities lull, he steps in with his familiar call to action.
Once the game begins, Caragol follows the Buffaloes on defense, trying to get the home crowd loud enough to make life difficult for the opposing offense.
He estimates the routine adds up to about 20,000 steps and 300 photos with fans on a typical game day.
But those interactions matter as much as getting the crowd to roar on third down.
“If we’re having a difficult time in the game, I try and lighten people up,” Caragol said. “I'm kind of like a connector between the fans and the team, in a way.”
The routine comes with a trade-off at home. Caragol and his wife, Susie, have been married for 50 years, but their shared connection to CU doesn't mean they spend much time together on football Saturdays.
The couple buys their own season tickets, yet Caragol rarely stays in his seat for long.
“My wife is, you know, pretty supportive. She's lonely during the games,” he said. “So typically in a game, I’ll see her for maybe five minutes at halftime. I’ll go up to her seat and bring her a can of wine.”
But the most surprising part of Buffalo Phil's evolution has been watching the persona outlive the costume's novelty.
He said that, in recent years, freshmen have approached him to share childhood pictures of themselves posing with him at Folsom Field. Some return years later, now as college students, to recreate those photos.
The encounters have made Caragol realize that his presence at Colorado games has become more than a familiar sight.
The little boy who once took Caragol's hand and showed him how to cheer was one of many fans who helped shape Buffalo Phil. A decade and a half later, Caragol keeps returning to Folsom Field, hoping to pass that same enthusiasm on.
“We all have the potential to make an impact and make a difference,” he said. “I just happen to dress like a Buffalo.”
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