“Give me a C! Give me an A! Give me a T! Give me an H! Give me a Y! What do you have? CATHY!” That’s right, this gal was a cheerleader.
My first cheerleading gig was as a midget league football cheerleader. I began my illustrious career as a pom-pom queen in the 5th grade. There must have been at least a dozen girls on the squad. I quickly learned athletic skill was not required so much as showing up to audition for a position. The no child left behind approach started well before the Bush’s administration coined the phrase.
Of course, when we were kids there was no-nonsense such as no score keeping. There was no fear of bruising the other teams feeling because one was better than the other. Although it vaguely seems familiar this insanity began in the early 70s with boys’ softball. We, kids, thought THIS was the silliest thing we’d ever heard of, too.
Back to my cheerleading life. When I was in the 7th grade, I was a cheerleader for Bradshaw Jr. High’s junior varsity basketball team. Go Hornets! I again made the squad in high school, but I dropped out before the school year started. Sigh, one of my life regrets! I would’ve risen the wave to the popular crowd if I had manned…I mean womaned…or should I say personed…oh bother, my post as a cheerleader. Political correctness is stupid, I will stick with ‘manned’ just for the record.
That was then, and this is now. Today, the cheerleader within rises up and really shines for sporting events, especially for football. I’m the high-strung and loudest person in the room, as my mild-mannered husband celebrates quietly with each victorious play. The booming inside my chest indicates a maximum overload of blood coursing through every chamber at great speed while my husband appears to be cat napping in comparison. What a contrast between two spectators watching the same game is all I can say. Whoever said, “Opposites attract” surely wasn’t kidding.
Secretly over the years, I dreamed of being a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader. How cool and sexy would that be? I don’t see myself doing that today in my 40 something phase of life, but I can dream. I know the only person would love to see me in a skimpy cheerleading outfit is my precious husband and that’s okay by me.
Some things will never change about a person. I reckon this overly enthusiastic trait of rooting on, screaming at, or patting on the back of ‘my team’ will never fade away. One day, I think my grandkids, when they enter the picture, will think their grandma is off her rocker. And, you know, they’ll be right coz I won’t be like any other grandma. In my mind’s eye, I’ll be doing cartwheels or building a pyramid or shaking my pom-pom in the air wildly. I will always be a cheerleader at heart!
Have H-A-PP-Y HUMPDAY! GooOOOO Bloggers!
