Adam Karon You can e-mail Adam Karon at
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My roommate is a cheerleader. He wears tiny powder-blue shorts
and prances around the football field. He has been known to bleach
his hair, wax his chest, and is learning to do a toe-touch.
He is also 6-foot-4, was a recruited high school football
player, can eat four Subway footlongs in one sitting, drink three
Colt .45s, and turn a taunting Trojan fan into a human pretzel. To
protect his anonymity we will call him Wild Man, because after all,
it takes a crazy guy to do what he does.
Male cheerleaders have been subject to harassment since they
first became secure enough in their masculinity to join their
female counterparts. I’m not arguing that we stop teasing
these No. 1 fans. All I ask is that you understand what they go
through in order to gain the honor of wearing those flattering
low-cut V-necks. Heck, after you learn some of the perks of the
job, you may dash down to the Wooden Center during practice to try
your hand at a back flip or two.
The process of being a cheerleader cannot even begin until your
sophomore year. You see, freshman are simply ill-prepared to deal
with the time commitment, let alone possess the mental strength
needed to force a smile when a kid a foot shorter than you launches
a stale hot dog bun at your head.
Additionally, there is an extensive tryout period during which
one is tested in various aspects of the job. Strength,
conditioning, flexibility and endurance are all important to the
“sport” of cheerleading.
Which brings up a good question ““ why do I use quotations
marks around the word sport? The participants are strong, fast and
have to think quickly on their feet. ESPN televises the national
cheerleading championships every year. Then again, ESPN also airs
pool tournaments, dog shows and spelling bees.
Whether cheerleading is a sport is up for debate. But you cannot
argue that cheerleaders themselves are tremendous athletes. Nearly
each has a background in gymnastics, football or dance.
Wild Man entered the hard-nosed sport of college cheerleading on
a dare. As a football player and track star he poked fun at the
guys who got to spend hours after school hoisting some attractive
young ladies above their heads. While his logic may originally have
been flawed, he quickly realized a genuine opportunity. Months
later he helped the team win their division at the USA
nationals.
“I guess I won that bet,” said Wild Man.
That’s not all he won. As a cheerleader, he gets a
truckload of UCLA clothing, appears in Adidas commercials and is
regularly on national television. Did I mention hoisting attractive
young ladies above his head? In addition, Wild Man has had the
benefit of working with a UCLA tumbling coach, and I’ll tell
you, there’s nothing more impressive than a 6-4 guy doing a
back flip.
However, cheering is not all fun and flips (and hoisting
attractive ladies). It also involves serious strength and
conditioning. Many nights Wild Man has returned completely
exhausted from double days, a concept usually restricted to
football. He endures excessive abuse from fans on both sides of the
ball, and has been harassed in Minnesota, Ohio, Oregon, Arizona and
Washington.
“Most comments have to do with male cheerleaders being
gay, or something stupid about athletic supporters,” Wild Man
said. “It’s easy for me to ignore these comments
because I get to spend all my time with some of the hottest girls
in the school. Besides, most people yell from a distance. No
one’s gonna say anything when they’re within reach of a
6-4, 225 pound guy.”
Wild Man speaks the truth. At a recent game in Eugene, 45,000
Oregonians, many of whom had spent too much time in the sun and way
too much time from civilization, took to the field to congratulate
their team.
Not a good time to be wearing blue and gold.
Wild Man and his troop of resilient cheerleaders stood their
ground, absorbing untold abuse, but smiling in the face of
danger.
After the game they were forced to wade through a sea of Green
and Yellow for a mile and a half until they reached their
hotel.
A certain reporter took the easy way out, donning neutral colors
and hiding behind the wheel of a rental car. Not Wild Man. He
walked the whole way with a smile on his face and a pom-pom in his
hand.