March 23, 2019 at 06:17AM
Don't laugh, but I used to be a cheerleader. It's true, my friends and classmates, who happened to be named Vickie and Vicky, and I won the cheerleading tryouts in sixth, seventh and eighth grade. We cheered for all of our junior high basketball games.
I am reminded of those days every March because of March Madness and basketball on TV every time I change a channel. And I recently watched the movie "Hoosiers" for the second time. It's about a small town basketball team in an Indiana farming community. To put it mildly, the team stinks until their new coach, played by Gene Hackman (spoiler alert) guides them to the state championship win. Even though you know how it ends, it is definitely worth watching if and when you get a chance.
There are sounds in basketball that have never left my memory — the sound of the ref's whistle, cheering from friends and family in the stands, and most of all for me, the sound of tennis shoes squeaking across a gym floor as the game played on.
Our school colors were orange and royal blue. Vickie's mom made all of our cheerleading uniforms. They were slightly different each year, but they all involved a pleated short little skirt, with alternating orange and blue pleats depending on the year. They all had either orange or blue little panties to go underneath so that when our skirts blew up from our jumping and acrobatics we were still decent. The tops were a different design each year, but always orange and blue.
On game night, the package was completed with brand new snow white socks and white tennis shoes. We used white polish on the shoes when we got dirt spots on them. We ratted and sprayed our hair into a stiff bob that wouldn't budge when we cheered.
To put it mildly, we looked hot! At least we thought we did.
We practiced our cheers every day after school during basketball season. We made up every move and verse. Our seventh grade teacher's wife was our cheer coach. We loved her.
On game night, when we strode into the gym, it was a sign to the people in the stands that the game would be starting soon. On cue, we would skip over and face the people in the visiting team's stands and we would perform our welcome cheer.
During this cheer, Vickie was on one side of me and Vicky was on the other side. At the end of this welcome cheer we would one by one do a forward flip, land in the splits (flat to the floor) and yell out our names. Flip, split, "Vickie!" Flip, split, "Vera!" Flip split, "Vicky!" It was very cool.
We were able to accompany the team to all the "away" games, and at the end of the season we attended the athletic banquet where we, too, would receive our letters for cheerleading. They were proudly sewn onto our royal blue school sweaters.
These are definitely some fun memories. Those splits though, how was that ever possible? I have trouble opening an aspirin bottle now — what the heck!
Don't laugh, but I used to be a cheerleader. It's true, my friends and classmates, who happened to be named Vickie and Vicky, and I won the cheerleading tryouts in sixth, seventh and eighth grade. We cheered for all of our junior high basketball games.
I am reminded of those days every March because of March Madness and basketball on TV every time I change a channel. And I recently watched the movie "Hoosiers" for the second time. It's about a small town basketball team in an Indiana farming community. To put it mildly, the team stinks until their new coach, played by Gene Hackman (spoiler alert) guides them to the state championship win. Even though you know how it ends, it is definitely worth watching if and when you get a chance.
There are sounds in basketball that have never left my memory — the sound of the ref's whistle, cheering from friends and family in the stands, and most of all for me, the sound of tennis shoes squeaking across a gym floor as the game played on.
Our school colors were orange and royal blue. Vickie's mom made all of our cheerleading uniforms. They were slightly different each year, but they all involved a pleated short little skirt, with alternating orange and blue pleats depending on the year. They all had either orange or blue little panties to go underneath so that when our skirts blew up from our jumping and acrobatics we were still decent. The tops were a different design each year, but always orange and blue.
On game night, the package was completed with brand new snow white socks and white tennis shoes. We used white polish on the shoes when we got dirt spots on them. We ratted and sprayed our hair into a stiff bob that wouldn't budge when we cheered.
To put it mildly, we looked hot! At least we thought we did.
We practiced our cheers every day after school during basketball season. We made up every move and verse. Our seventh grade teacher's wife was our cheer coach. We loved her.
On game night, when we strode into the gym, it was a sign to the people in the stands that the game would be starting soon. On cue, we would skip over and face the people in the visiting team's stands and we would perform our welcome cheer.
During this cheer, Vickie was on one side of me and Vicky was on the other side. At the end of this welcome cheer we would one by one do a forward flip, land in the splits (flat to the floor) and yell out our names. Flip, split, "Vickie!" Flip, split, "Vera!" Flip split, "Vicky!" It was very cool.
We were able to accompany the team to all the "away" games, and at the end of the season we attended the athletic banquet where we, too, would receive our letters for cheerleading. They were proudly sewn onto our royal blue school sweaters.
These are definitely some fun memories. Those splits though, how was that ever possible? I have trouble opening an aspirin bottle now — what the heck!