COLUMN: Get out of the way

From Shawn Klein's "Cunning Linguistics," Fall '95 In high school, they had a social significance which easily outweighed their meaningless task. High school cheerleaders were the oldest, hottest girls in the school. Coming out in their little skirts and tight sweaters, doing cartwheels... -- it was enough to kill a freshman or sophomore, with all that blood rushing to the penis too fast for the vital organs to compensate. (So, they did get the crowd up for the game.) Male cheerleaders? I never saw one in high school. But cheerleading just doesn't translate well to college, particularly the Ivy League, particularly basketball. Our cheerleaders come out with one new trick each year. You see it the first game you go to. It's mildly entertaining. Then you watch it every single game afterwards. Just awful. Where do you grow kids that become cheerleaders? They're throwbacks to 1950s sitcoms. The kind that had great big family breakfasts every episode, where everyone talked about what they're going to do for the rest of the day. They're like grown-up versions of Ned Flanders' children. They clearly have a future as infomercial audience members. They're probably all really optimistic and loved horses when they were little. What amazes me is the effort they put into their jobs. They practice for hours and hours on end. And to what end? What do they accomplish? They jump and flip around and scream in low voices. Logic has no place in cheerleading. For example, when Maloney or Kegler is taking foul shots at the far end of the court (meaning not a single player or fan in the stands is looking at what the cheerleaders are doing) they do that moronic "cheer" where the boys hold the girls up in the air by sticking a hand up their derriere and lifting them overhead. The girls then wave their pom-poms all around. And why? No one is even looking at them. That is except for those unfortunate die-hard Quaker fans who got up at some God-forsaken hour in the morning to go get front row tickets only to have their view blocked by those Mack trucks holding the frails in their mitts. (I was one of those poor schmucks last year.) I'm nearly certain that the cheerleaders don't even care whether Penn wins the game. The cheerleaders are worried about their execution. They have to get on that floor and nail that routine. That's their job, damnit. It's particularly laughable at games when each school has their own squad of cheerleaders. They compete against each other. They sit there watching the other squad at work, waiting for their own impending glory in the white hot spotlight. "Oh, did you see that!" one says to another, his voice filled with hope and ernest. "She totally missed that squat thrust! That's the hole we needed! That's the hole we neeeeededddd!" I imagine it must make the blood boil. What motivation to go out and tear their rivals up. But who in the stands notices? Who cares? The only thing people watch is the launching of the smallest females into the air by the four burly young men. (You can be sure they drink a tall glass of milk with every meal, even Chinese food.) But it's not interesting for the sake of what's actually going on. My theory is that it's a bit like car racing. The only reason people watch is to see a crash. As it would be irresponsible to just sit here and naysay, I have compiled a few suggestions for the cheerleaders which will make them both more interesting and inspiring: · Don't come out with those ignorance-is-bliss, Buddy-Lembeck-is-our-kind-of-guy smiles when the team is down by fifteen points at the half. Nobody in the entire Palestra is happy. You shouldn't be either. It makes people want to beat on you. · Do more routines with swords and fire. I thought that stuff was really cool last year. · Donate the cheerleader uniforms as raw material for new basketball team uniforms. I don't know exactly who designed the new shorts, but Jesus, they suck. My friend told me they remind him of the cheerleaders themselves: asymmetrical and ugly. · The cheerleaders should play on some of the sexual tension in the group. What with everyone walking around in tight outfits, grabbing each others asses, doing splits, seeing up skirts. All that groping. A routine which made good use of all that energy would definitely be stimulating. It would make better use of their arching backs and deep throats. · Get us emotionally involved in what you're doing. Stage a cat fight in mid-routine. Play practical jokes on each other, like not catching the girl. Give us that element of drama. Something to whet our appetites. · Lastly, relocate either to the top row of the stadium or outside in the parking lot. In the parking lot they could cheer for the whole game. No more having to get off the court because of that silly basketball competition thingy. And then you're out of everyone's way. : ) Shawn Klein is a senior Biological Basis of Behavior major from Livingston, New Jersey. Cunning Linguistics appeared alternate Fridays this semester.