part of the beauty of going to law school in the deep south is that this is FOOTBALL LOVING COUNTRY. the people, they love them some football here. the men all played football as boys, and even though they grow up, they never really lose the dream of hoisting the lombardi trophy. to that end, my law school hosts a full-pad tackle football game between law students. they sell tickets, raise money, and donate it to charity, but at the end of the day, this is all about reclaiming lost glory. for one day, at least, these guys get to remember what it was like to be big-shot football stars.
and what's a football game without cheerleaders? well, in the deep south, cheerleaders are integral to the process. you need the pretty girls to preen and fuss over the boys. it's part of the glory thing. and that's where i come in. there have been cheerleaders every single year i've been in school, but this year was... different... for me. for some reason, i decided that, at twenty-eight years old, there's no time like the present to cheerlead for the first time in my LIFE. yeah, crazy. but why not? have some laughs, do something silly for a good cause, and have a fun story to tell in interviews someday.
yeah, come to find out, that's not how we roll down here. this was serious freaking business. two-hour practices, $90 uniforms, and a pre-game dance led by a member of our faculty who cheered for our big-time division I football team when she was an undergraduate. i was in WAY over my head. but with a little liquid courage, i showed up on game day to do my best.
verdict? we were OK. the crowd dug us, though most likely for how ridiculous it is for law-school women to dance around like high-school girls. i didn't fall over. success. but as i lay here on my couch 11 hours later, with muscles and joints aching, a nasty cough from jumping and yelling in the freezing cold, and a big bruise on my side from the acres on acres of spandex "shapewear" employed to squeeze my ridiculous self into a cheerleading outfit, i'm starting to wonder what the all-holy hell i was thinking. just goes to show that every silly whim has consequences, i guess.
now, if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go take some drugs, lay down, and hope i'm recovered by the time i face my classmates come monday. sigh...
Letter 70: Be Louder
4 weeks ago