My Daughter the Cheerleader

The time had come. My daughter has been in gymnastics since she was about two or three years old and the whole experience has gotten stale. She's on the small side, but ridiculously strong, and as flexible as an elastic band. I would think she could be very good at gymnastics, but lately she seems a little bored.

So, when a girl named Amelia came to her gymnastics class and talked about her experiences in cheerleading, my daughter wanted to explore the idea. Not that it's relevant, but Amelia goes to school with my daughter and once played on her t-ball team. Some of Amelia's family members attended the final day of that season, a hot day in August. Somehow, I can't remember any of these details and need to be reminded of the entire story each time Amelia's name comes up in my house. Amelia lives in the blind spot of my memory and that's just how it's going to be.

The try outs for this year's cheerleading team were the following week and my daughter was very excited to see if this new sport was for her. In the past, cheerleading wasn't considered a sport, rather a side show at a football game, but today they train like gymnasts and put on their own show.

I have only vague memories of the cheerleaders from my high school. There were only about four girls, none of whom were propelled to the pinnacle of popularity by virtue of their status as cheerleaders, as movies and television would have you believe. They wore uniforms that were manufactured to last 50 years or longer, that were neither stylish nor flattering. They had pom poms and one of those cone-like things to yell into. Their choreography came either from watching Richard Simmons videos or perhaps was invented on the spot. They may or may not have moved the yardsticks between cheers. As I mentioned, my memory is hazy on some of the details.

But back to my daughter.

The try outs went well and we learned that they wanted my daughter for their best, competitive team. This was a surprise to us because she hasn't mastered the back handspring (this is embarrassing...neither have I), but they must think she can learn it quickly and I'm proud of her.

The organization is called the Cheer Sport Sharks and the team my daughter is joining has never lost a competition. That's a lot of pressure on these kids, but my daughter has always been competitive and enjoys these types of situations. She'll be fine. They have competitions scheduled for Indiana and Ohio as well as several closer to home.

Already, we've purchased Sharks t-shirts, a big bow for her hair, new shoes, and flip flops with ribbons tied to them in the Shark colours. My daughter says, "My mommy made these flip flops for me!" but I'm quite sure she isn't actually competing with cheap Chinese labour and simply tied the ribbons.

I took my daughter to her first practise this week. While they put her through her paces, I listened to the moms talk to each other. Cheerleading moms look and act just like gymnastics moms; they have an uncanny ability to talk non-stop about their daughters, pausing only to give unsolicited advice to other moms, all the while pretending that I'm invisible. I've learned it's hard to tell the difference between shy/uncomfortable and ignorant/rude, so I'll give them the benefit of the doubt.

Listening in, I learned many interesting things:

"Becky just started doing that last week! Can you believe it?"

"Courtney has been working on that move at home, it's really coming along nicely."

"Isabella has gotten so strong that she'll be doing that move in no time."

Riveting.

My daughter had a blast and can't wait to go back next week. Good enough for me.

p.s. the picture at the top is some other cheerleading team with a shark. I hope any mascot we have looks better than that.