You may think I'm talking about a football player after losing a playoff game in which he had been preparing for all season. Maybe even a wrestler at the end of a defeated match. Those are all good guesses but it's far from that. You see blood, sweat, blisters, and tears come from the girls who practice day in and day out, a year round commitment and most importantly the ones who must have a strong arms, strong legs, and the notable perky smile whether the team is winning 63-6 or losing 72-0. Cheerleaders. .
"B-E-A-T Beat The Dragons Come on Mustangs Beat the Dragons." Chant after chant. Stunt after stunt. All one hundred and ten percent of energy must be exerted just to hear a few scattered claps a random wow from a five year old little girl who wears a custom uniform to look just as a cheerleaders does, and of course the infamous "boo!" As I stand there with the bright stadium lights shining in my face, feeling the sweat beads on my forehead and the roaring crowd yelling "LET'S GO MUSTANGS!" and even the overly proud quarter backs mother standing up singing all the bands cadences and yelling at the top of her lungs "That's my boy!" I think to myself how much I love this sport. It's my get away as well as my safe haven.
This game is quite different. Tonight I'll either leave with a feather weight white satin sash wrapped around my body, or walk back to my place on the track and cheer for an entire game feeling a slight bit defeated. The time has come and it is 6:29. All homecoming nominees are to stand on the bright green turf between both 40 yard lines. Butterflies are moving around in my stomach and if they are all being tickled. In approximately fifteen minutes I will know whether my entire high school has chosen me to become one of the six members in the homecoming court. A loud speaker comes on from left field which just so happens to be our overly enthusiastic assistant principle.