Would you say that college cheerleading is an in-your-face kind of extracurricular activity? I would. After I graduated from high school and “retired” from two years of varsity cheerleading, I focused fully on my academic classes and within half a year found myself bored and restless. I needed to get back into some kind of rigorous physical activity, so in the spring of the next year, I tried out for the college cheersquad.

Lucky for me, some of my old friends from high school were already on the team and/or were trying out that year too, meaning that I didn’t have to feel alone or anxious about putting myself out there to be scrutinized. Better yet, Katrina, who had once been the high school mascot and was now trying out as a veteran member of the team, wanted me to try out in a group with her and two guys, Jesus and Seth. Naturally, I said yes.

So there we were, a Mexican guy, a black girl, a white boy, and a southeast Asian girl, trying out for the squad together with a routine of our own. Jesus would be Katrina’s partner, and Seth would be mine.

Now… I wasn’t used to cheering with guys, much less having a guy for a cheer partner. I’d just come from an all-girl squad where during the stunts I mostly lifted rather than got lifted, and with Seth as my partner, my role was definitely going to be switched if we did stunts. I mean, six-foot-plus tall Seth was lanky but still substantial; can you imagine me at 5’5″ trying to lift the guy? Can you say hernia and screams of pain? Good. So it was decided that if we ended up doing stunts, Seth would lift me, and Jesus would lift Katrina.

The song we chose to accompany our routine was the ever popular Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back,” and the four of us stayed late to work on our choreography, complete with dances, cheers and jumps. During that time, Seth and I began to really hit it off—and that’s hit it off, not get if off, you dirty-minded individuals. He and I were really getting along like two peas in a pod, teasing, chasing and wrestling with each other, giggling and belly-laughing like little kids and having a lot of fun.

Yet, despite all that, the four of us managed to make progress on our routine.

Something in our choreography, however, just wasn’t quite right. Katrina thought it needed a little something, perhaps a little more lift. At one point in the routine, the four of us would do a couple of toe-touches, all at the same time, but by then we were already winded from the previous beats that our jumps didn’t seem synched or spectacular enough. So she decided to put in a little stunting; only the girls would do the toe-touches, and the guys would stand behind them and lift, so that the toe-touches would practically fly.

This meant that Seth would have to wrap his hands around my waist and hold me in the air for a moment or two, and I was perfectly fine with that idea. Yes, indeed.

Little did I know how my inexperience with the “lifted” role would combine with the power of my jump and Seth’s strength. The first time we did it to the beat of the music, it was like a ballet gone horribly wrong—in slow motion and unstoppable. Honestly, I’m not a round or heavy person, and I’m actually a touch on the skinny side. I do not pack a whole lot in the caboose.

But when Seth lifted me up into the air for my toe-touch, to the ever-so-romantic lyrics of Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back,” Seth baby got my back in his face with a vengeance. You know what I mean: my butt smashed his nose like there was no tomorrow. Right after the moment of impact, Jesus and Katrina were laughing like loons.

When I somehow landed and then managed to turn his way, I put my steadying hands on his arms and asked, “Are you okay?” For a few moments, Seth could only stare dumbly at me with a dropped jaw, and then, right before we fell into laughter too, he shook his head and grinned.

“Damn. Have you got back or what?”

Share this post: