Reaching out a spindly branch all the way from California, the infamous Stanford Tree has granted us an exclusive interview from the temperate, leaf-strewn hideaway where he vertically awaits his punishment from the NCAA for this colorful episode.

We knew he was our kind of conifer right away:

To: IvyGate <IvyGate@gmail.com>
From: Tree <xxxx@stanford.edu>
Date: Sept. 2, 2006 7:12 p.m.
Subject: Re: interview

Usually I shoot up before doing phone interviews, and it’s a little early on the west coast.  If you want to email me some questions I can get to them when I’m good and drunk, or we could try the phone one of your early mornings/my late nights.

-Tree

On to the Q&A, with more after the jump.

[UPDATE 1:29 p.m.: Tree checks in: "fyouri, i'm keeping my shit on legit: stanfordtree.com."]

IvyGate: So what species of tree are you?
Tree: I am a masters student that wears 35 pounds of Jo-Ann’s fabric mixed with aluminum, plastic tubes, and duct tape. What is this some kind of game to you?

If we tapped you, like for syrup, what kind of liquor would come out?
Absinthe. Straight from my wormwood.

Are there any traditions that come with being the Tree? Aside from, you know, being shitfaced 24 hours a day?
Soon as I step on the scene I’m hearing hoochies screaming. Plus hell of free gear from Nike and Converse.

Can you tell us your version of the NCAA story?
I don’t blame the NCAA for its actions. I ran a swiffer halfway down the court then tossed it into the crowd before landing on an absent cameraman’s swivel chair, which I rode backwards into the media table. Then when this ogre of an official came out from under the bridge to pull me off the court, I winked at him and showed him my trunk. With my back turned, he flying tackled me. As you saw on SportsCenter, ESPN caught it all on tape. For a moment even the women in the stands pulled their (affectionate) gaze away from the  players and coaches, and started throwing waterbottles at me. Officials surrounded me in the tunnel, and two policemen whisked me away in cuffs when I tried to sprint back onto the court. Would have been nice to continue traveling with the team and go on to Austin… I think.

Do you know what your punishment is gonna be?
Recently the LSJUMB [Leland Stanford Junior University Marching Band] has been suspended by our own athletic department.  When the Band sinks, so does the Tree. Any day now a verdict should be out, but chances are my Tree might never make it onto the grass in the brand new stadium. Children and women would cry, and others would rejoice. The situation would call for guerilla tactics, yet to be exposed.

Why do you think people give the Tree such a hard time? Do they hate you because of the color of your bark?
I am the astronaut of mascots. These other schools, kids got their heads in the ground. I’m in a world of my own. And because nothing beats Stanford, ceteris paribus.

What do you think of all the recent Tree coverage? Is it fair?
Favorable. I haven’t bought a drink for a month.

What’s next for the Tree?
A new incarnation of the Tree is built every summer, so if all goes as planned I’ll be sporting new leaves. Next up: 400 unsuspectic freshmen women soon to be deflowered under the first full moon of the quarter.

What’s your message for the kids?
Once you don’t have any more room for all the junk you’ve stolen, start giving it back. Start with that painting from the bar in Denver. -Tree