My daughter joined Pop Warner football cheerleading last week. She’s tried soccer, skiing, dance, golf, and it seemed like cheerleading would be the next good athletic adventure! One of the teachers at her Summer camp talked her Dad into letting her join.
When he first told me about it, he asked me if I had any reservations about it. I'm was never a big cheerleader fan; this was probably because when I was in high school, it seemed that the cheerleading squad comprised all the popular girls who in turn dated the football players. Whenever I caught sight of them in the locker room, it seemed they spent all of their time primping not discussing the plays that might make Lincoln-Sudbury kick the stuffin’ out of Newton South. The cheerleading concept I then formed was preen over team.
Her Dad said he was uncertain about it, because he felt that it demeaned girls to the male athletes. This was funny coming from someone, who since I had know him, felt that cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and laundry were largely my responsibilities based only upon the fact that I had breasts! I told him that I thought that any activity that got her outside with other girls jumping up and down would be good for her (i.e., anything to exhaust her endless energy!!!). So, she became a soccer-skiing-dancing-golfing cheerleadin’ chick last week.
Anyway, I had to take her to cheer practice tonight and then pick up my son, Nate. He called while I was having lunch with a friend to see when I might fetch him, and I told him that between 5pm and 7pm I’d be busy with his sister’s cheerleading practice.
He said, “Mom, are you serious?!”
I said, “Yes, your sister is going to be a Pop Warner cheerleader this Fall.”
He then said half in jest and half seriously, “Mom, no! I am so utterly disappointed in you!”
He then informed me that we were in a “friendship fight”, which I gather must be the opposite of “chillaxin’” with each other.
I took a moment then to ponder the difference between “chillaxin’” and a “friendship fight” – was it the difference between Nate and I drinking root beer on the couch watching C.S.I. versus Nate waiting behind the door of his room for me with a loaded nerf gun?!
It’s funny, because most of the time he and Iz act, well, like a brother and sister, squabbling, telling on each other, and the like, and here was Nathan taking a very strong stance with me in defense of his sister, as if by committing Iz to cheerleading, I had sold her to gypsies! This is one of the many things I love about Nathan.
He’s only 16, but he knows who he is, what he feels, and he’s not afraid to be who he is or say what he feels. I remember one day he came home from middle school and told me the results of a mock Presidential election they had. “Mom, 342 kids voted Republican, 247 voted Democrat, and only 1 voted Libertarian.” I didn’t even have to ask who the one was who voted Libertarian. I said, “Nathan, you’re probably the only kid who knows what a Libertarian is!”, and I kissed him.
When he was 13, he proudly told me he was an Atheist. And while some parents would have been terribly disappointed, I looked at him and loved him even more that day for saying what he believed rather than for saying what he felt everyone else wanted him to believe. Today, his deity of choice is the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and hey, can I really make fun of that, believing in the Great Cat Goddess myself?! And to me, that’s the great thing about life – the ability to choose and choose who you want to be.
I picked Iz up at camp at 5:15, and we headed to cheer practice, which began at 5:30. Upon arriving, I sprayed her with bug spray. While spraying her, I started to get attacked by those hummingbird-sized mosquitoes; so I gave in and sprayed myself. I hate the smell of bug repellant! Note to Hermes and Dolce&Gabbana: You make wonderful perfumes; so, why can’t you people come up with a great smelling bug repellent?
Iz ran off to her cheer squad, which comprised 6 or 7 other six-year-olds. I was informed that I had to fill out “forms.” So, when you think of “forms,” you maybe think of 2 or 3 pieces of paper. I had to fill out a registration form, a consent form, a code of conduct for parents and cheerleaders form, a code of conduct for parents form, a sideline rules policy form, a waiver and release of liability form, AND an image release form. In addition, I needed to produce her kindergarten report card, a doctor’s note, her original birth certificate, and a recent picture. The coach told me that she needed this all by next Monday, because she had to go in front of the “board” with the forms from all the cheerleaders and get “certification.” Who says cheerleading is silly stuff? It would appear after all this, that trying to be a cheerleader was like trying to work for the FBI or the CIA.
And, if I thought this cheerleading was like that at Lincoln-Sudbury, well, I was totally wrong after I read through the cheerleading rules and regulations.
No jewelry is to be worn at any time during the season. Leave all jewelry at home! No fingernail polish. Fingernails must be kept short. No glitter of any type (hair, body or nails). Do not use body lotion before a practice or game. No Tattoo, face painting or body piercing. No unusual hair coloring during the season. No Gum chewing.
Hair must be tied back at all times. Only gymnastic clips, scrunches and pony tail holders are allowed.
Be on time for practices; do not bring friends to practice. Practices are closed for safety reasons. You must wear shorts with no buttons, buckles or zippers. Supportive sneakers must be worn.
You must work as a team to be successful in this program. There is no Grand Standing allowed. The head coach has the final say.
At 5:35pm, practice began on the Little League baseball field. About 30 girls, of all shapes and sizes , assembled on the field. I had to laugh when I saw my daughter’s group running laps around the infield of the diamond. That led to stretches and jumping jacks. The jumping jacks were hard to miss, because the girls shouted out at the top of their lungs, “One…two…three…” as they flapped their arms wildly in the air.
I then thought that cheering was really no different from any other sport, and after tonight, I see it as gymnastics meets yoga meets chanting monks meets theater arts. Hey, when your team is down 49-2 at half-time, you have to “act” like it’s all going to turn around in the second half!
They then started in on their cheers.
“Let’s get fired up!”
“Boom-shaka-lacka, boom-shaka-lacka!”
“B-R-O-N-C-O-S”
Who rocks the house?
“R-E-D-H-O-T”
And, who knew there was so much spelling in cheerleading? I overheard one mother say, “Well, if anything, at least cheering teaches them how to spell!”
The coach then moved to home plate; the girls were all gathered by first base.
She said, “I couldn’t hear you last night. I want it LOUD!”
(It’s good that “loud” is a cheerleader qualification, because like mother like daughter, Iz is good at loud!)
They did their cheer at the top of their lungs; which made me think, should this be called cheerleading or chantshouting?!
After the cheer, the coach told them that they were much improved over last night, and then one of the girls piped up and said, “I’ve been practicing at home!” They shouted that cheer (the “Boom-shaka-lacka” one) five more times. After the cheer drill ended, another girl said as she clapped her hands to demonstrate, “I’m getting tired of doing this!” I read somewhere that cheerleading has a high incidence of injury; thus, I concluded that this was the first minor injury a cheerleader could get – the dreaded clapping fatigue!
They then practiced their forward roll, and the coach prefaced it by saying, “And, we will do it one at a time to avoid injury!” See, I told you this cheerleading stuff is risky business. After tumbling, the two coaches both knelt on the ground opposite each other with the knee of one leg bent so the foot was on the ground and with the knee of the opposite leg against the ground. Jeepers, describing these cheerleading moves in words is even more difficult than describing why calls failed due to a SYS_ERR. Sufficed to say, after the coaches were in position, each girl proceeded to get up on top of their bent legs, placing a foot on each thigh, and hold their hands, while standing, high above their heads. "Keep your head straight, and look forward!"
Anyway, here’s a picture of a similar manever to add to your cheerleader folder!
And here's the cheerleading bumper sticker!
As the practice came to an end, the coach told the girls that next week, they’d get a copy of the cheers to bring home to practice with their parents; she then looked up at the bleachers, where most of parents were sitting, smiled quite deviously, and said, “And, make sure when you cheer at home, you’re loud!”
As I sat there watching my daughter roll around, jump, shout, clap her hands, and have a really good time, I thought that cheerleading was not bad at all; it would only make her more coordinated, confident, collected, and “R-E-D-H-O-T!” And, these were things I certainly didn’t feel ‘til I was 47, so more power to her if might be lucky enough to feel them all by the time she was 7.
When we picked Nate up later, I asked him why he was so disagreeable about his sister being a cheerleader. He then said, “Soccer, hockey, lacrosse, well, that’s okay. And, she should ride a motorcycle, too!” It was as if Nathan felt his sister should be “one of the guys”, or his view of “guy-ness,” and not one of the girls. I think Nathan’s view of women was that they were equal to men and didn’t need to do “girl” things or things which he thought made them unequal; that is, his sister could and should do anything a guy could do. I was reminded of his Dad or that he was a lot like his Dad then. When I first started dating his Dad, my Mom said, “And, do you know why he really likes you? Because he can “play” with you.” (Quinn is the one who got me into cycling way back in 1986.)
Anyway, if you ever see me, and I’m spelling “B-R-O-N-C-O-S” or “R-E-D-H-O-T” under my breath or babbling “Boom-shaka-lacka, boom-shaka-lacka;” don’t worry. It’s only because I’ve been cheered up! <3
Update Note: Brenda just pointed out to me that perhaps this is really "Oooh shagalaga" instead; I had wondered the same thing last night when I watched it, but Miss Cheer was fast asleep, so I was unable to verify that before I went to press. Anyway, I just checked with the now awake Miss Cheer. She said, looking at me like I was totally clueless (and, I hear I should get used to this look, because it becomes a much more common occurence during the teen years), "It's oooh shagalaga!" Obviously, I will have to study the cheer sheets when we get them next week! :-)
1 comment:
Cheerleading BAH!
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