Softball Cheers Novels & Stories

I had other things on my mind. “Go Eagles!” Mum and Sandra cheered on just as the crowd also erupted in cheers. The drum roll was beginning and the cheerleaders were beginning to make their way on to the field. I sat forward clapping as my eyes searched for Olivia among her teammates . I clapped harder and picked up my little pompoms to shake it cheerily as I sighted her. Sandra stood up at once to get a better view of Olivia. “Hey! Sit down lady!” Some man who was seated in the row behind us said.

having cheer routines? Which is why we have a very special set of cheer leaders today.” She followed my gaze and her jaw nearly touched the floor. She looked from me to there, and from there to me. “B, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked, in a mix of words and laughter. I also couldn’t help betraying a chuckle as I took in the sight, again. Kevin was doing some weird whine which looked more like a belly Dance, with Bryce doing some hip shake-ish thing, and Hawk was doing some really…interesting twists with AdHollandn. And Cole and Jack were doing…god, I didn’t even know what that was. And all of them had their pompoms and cheer outfits on. “Wow!” Juliette said, still laughing. “I

Thank god she doesn't introduce me as her uncle because my thoughts about her are far from uncle-ish. I used to play football in high school, and while I'm still a fan of the sport, I don’t spare a glance at the field. I can’t tell you which team is winning or which players show the most potential because my eyes are glued on my princess the whole time. She's always front and center of the squad, leading them in their cheers, looking pretty as a button as she swings her hips, kicks her legs, and sashays around the field. She jumps up and down excitedly when the team scores a touchdown, shaking those pom-poms and flipping her ponytail all over the place. She dazzles the crowd with her gorgeou

I reached out and wrapped her up in a hug. "Alright ladies, thank you for making me the happiest cheer coach in the Pacific Northwest for another year." Coach finished up with a clap of her hands. "Comp team, I'll see you in a week. Everyone else, I'll see you back here in the new year. Go get changed and get out of here." If you wanted to know what the fastest species in the world was, you didn't have to look any further than a group of teenage girls waiting to get dressed to see their boyfriends.

I sit there, nodding politely, as Martinez drones on and on about his daughter’s cheerleading career, detailing her rise to the top, her knee injury, her bitter rivalry with some other squad, and the sacrifices they’ve made along the way. Why do I feel like I’m trapped in a soap opera? Finally, the halftime show begins. A sudden burst of excitement from the crowd fills the stadium, sending waves of energy and noise that do nothing but make my headache worse. Two rows of girls—cheerleaders—step onto the field. One side is in blue, the other in pink. Of course, Martinez’s daughter is in blue. No doubt about it.

Like he's hungry. School day's over, and I'm at cheer practice on the field. The sun's dipping low, casting long shadows, and Daddy's there barking orders at the football team. "Run it again! Harder!" His voice booms, making my stomach flip. I'm in my tiny cheer skirt, the red and white pleats flipping up as we do high kicks. My sports bra hugs my C-cups tight, and these boy shorts underneath ride up my ass cheeks. I catch him glancing over, his jaw clenching. Is it just pride in his little girl, or something else?

She and the drummer from 11-Denali are rallying the spirit of over three quarters of the senior high population. A table has been set for the judges in the middle front of the grandstand. The commentator, Mr. “Squidward” Romero is there too, improvising an introduction of the two teams on the PA system. On the other side of the table, away from Kate, is Maricar standing in front as team captain of the defeated ABM bench cheerers. She has a black knapsack on her back, with the print of the negative image of a lion’s head with a huge white cross overlapping it. “Gadon of ABM 12 is the undisputed Queen of track,” Mr. Romero commentates, “but Policarpio of STEM 12 is proving to be a force to rec

I went straight to the cheering squad room and sat down next to the girls. "Do you feel all right?" "How's it going for you?" These were the girls' inquiries. Even though I was not okay, I just said okay. They appeared concerned and questioned me further when Miss Peyton spoke up. Our cheer captain was by her side. "First and foremost, I'd like to congratulate everyone on a job well done; congratulations, champions! Let's pat each other on the back and congratulate one another," the coach said. "All right, this is going to be a quick meeting because I know some of you are still hungover from last night's party."

The scent of freshly cut grass wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of food from the nearby vendors. To our left, a group of cheerleaders was practicing their routine, their colorful pom-poms shaking in unison. Some of them were dancing, while others were chatting and giggling. The field was a hub of activity, with people playing ball, jogging, or simply lounging in the sun. I turned my attention to Sally, whose eyes were still red and glassy from crying. Her face was etched with a mixture of sadness and vulnerability. I reached out and gently signed, "Are you ready to talk now?"

Loudly. Every time Marcus touched the ball, her voice cut through the gym. “Go Marcus!” or “Yes! Look at that form!” She clapped hard, laughed at his plays, stood up during fast breaks like she was at an actual game. Her hazel eyes stayed locked on him, that nice smile never fading. It wasn’t over-the-top in a fake way. It was genuine and supportive. The kind of cheering that made the whole team glance over and smile—some of the lowkey wishing to be at the recieving end of the smile. It pissed Ethan off all over again.