In the beginning, an Evil Cheer Mom is all sweetness and cooperation. Her only desire is to be the sponsor's bestest most humble, tireless, self sacrificing little supporter. She also helpfully sits beside the sponsor at games and informs her of the shortcomings and transgressions of other cheerleaders and all their ancestors. In truth, all this effort is made in hopes of attaining two goals: (1) make the sponsor love the ECM's daughter above all other cheerleaders and (2) make the sponsor agree to the ECM's most outrageous demands.
These demands start out small. For example, "When the girls drew names for gift giving at the banquet, some of our daughters drew the names of girls we don't like. Or maybe we don't like their moms. Anyway, we're ordering you to order the girls to buy gifts for anyone they want and if some girls don't get anything, oh well! We'll be doing them (and their moms) a favor by pointing out that no one likes them, so maybe they won't try out next year and girls we like will make the team."
Generally, ECM's like any girl who is uglier and has less talent than their daughters. This selection criteria has led to entire teams of incredibly homely girls who cannot even walk out onto the field in straight lines.
As I said, these demands start out small but soon escalate into something like, "We order you to give up all your free time to spend with our daughters at parades, pie eating contests, monster truck rallies and any where else I can show off that, even though I was a total loser in high school, my daughter is a cheerleader." They seriously cannot believe that their wonderful sponsor has a family and social life that doesn't involve cheerleading. The sponsor having an existence separate from them is beyond their powers of comprehension!
However, once Wonderful New Sponsor declines one of these invitations to give up her life, all Hell breaks loose and she begins the transition to Worst Sponsor Ever......
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A couple of years ago I went to a 50th, yes, 50th high school reunion. The head cheerleader for our high school was wearing a cheerleading uniform, recreated to fit her now size 3X, 68-year-old body. It was not a pretty sight. She rushed up to us and gushed, "Wasn't high school just the most wonderful time of your life?" then stood there smiling, overweight and cheer-clad, waiting for our agreement. "No!" we said in unison, and another friend added, "Hell, no!" She waddled away, deflated. It was pathetic. If high school cheerleading was the high point of anyone's life, or the lack of being able to make the team was a lifelong slap that caused them to make it their daughter's ultimate goal, it's more than pathetic.
ReplyDeleteIt's sick.