Stand Up and Cheer

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When our daughter decided out of nowhere to try out for cheerleader, I was silently skeptical. She had little gymnastics experience and admittedly couldn’t tumble worth a flip. All she possessed was great desire and enough athletic ability to have landed her on the Longview Lobo freshman volleyball team. Now she wanted to change course and try cheer. OK by us, but failure might be an option. Not in her head, I quickly learned.

She started taking weekly private lessons about three months before tryouts. Soon, in addition to hearing a volleyball bouncing off the wall of her second-story bedroom, I would hear loud crashes. The first time I went rushing upstairs to make sure she was OK. Then I figured out she was just practicing her leaps.

I know, we probably should have made her go outside, but it’s a solid house and all the breakable items are downstairs. We figure kids should be encouraged to pursue their dreams — even if it means putting up with occasional crashes rattling the windows.

When I was in high school, becoming a cheerleader appeared to be more of a popularity contest, rather than strictly based on skills and talent. For example, my Beautiful Mystery Companion was a Gilmer Buckeye cheerleader for one year and possessed no special cheerleading talent. She said she did it as a lark. Anyone who knows my beautiful professor bride has a hard time picturing her on the sidelines of a football field with pom-poms, doing “Two Bits.” She doesn’t even particularly like football.

Over the decades since cheerleading has evolved into a genuine sport that takes a great deal of skill — especially at the collegiate level. I’ve watched the Stephen F. Austin and University of Texas cheerleaders enough times to know they didn’t get their positions based on popularity. If getting picked as a cheerleader were based on popularity, our daughter Abbie, who is definitely a social creature, would certainly have been a strong candidate.

At least outwardly, Abbie had a great attitude. If she made the junior varsity cheerleading squad, great. If she didn’t make it, then she would play volleyball again next year. I certainly wanted her to succeed. But I was glad that there was a possibility of failure. One of my pet peeves is a prevailing attitude these days that all children must succeed at everything they attempt. I believe kids need to learn to fail, to come up short sometimes — whether it is at a track meet, or entering an art competition, or whatever. One of the ways you grow is by learning that you can’t win at everything. You pick yourself up and try again.

But of course we wanted her to make the cheerleading squad. What parent wouldn’t?

Tryouts were closed to parents, of course. Abbie texted that she had blown her first attempt, had forgotten the words to the cheer. She was praying for a call-back based on her leaping ability. Not everyone gets a mulligan in cheerleading, apparently. But she was called and told us later that she nailed it the second time.

Then the waiting began. The results would be posted online. Late that night, we heard a series of screams that only a teen-age girl can hurl forth. She had made the squad and was jumping around with pure joy. Whew.

I’m proud of her. She did this through sheer determination and hard work. There will be a lot more of that. Practice for fall has already begun. We will spend Thursday nights watching her on the sidelines of JV football games, at the high school where I graduated from 40 years ago. Now that is pretty cool, if you ask me.

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