Cheering Cheerleader Quotes

A girl on the cheer squad had once asked Gabriel if having a twin was like looking in a mirror all the time. He'd asked her if being a cheerleader was like being an idiot all of the time - but really, it was a good question.

Yeah, well call me unpatriotic, but I see don't see the cheerleader thing. Cheer isn't sexy. Dark is sexy. Ambivalent is sexy. Deeper-than-it-looks-at-first-glance is sexy.

Moms are life's number one cheerleaders without uniforms.

United we stand, divided we fall Just watch us as we beat ya’ll. You say ‘brother against brother’? Well, my brother screwed your mother And she liked it! We’ll kick your shins and break your knee ’Cause all you got is Robert E. Lee. Farbs!

Cheerleading was not a hit: “What am I doing here, Mommy? I’m freezing cold and I’m cheering for a bunch of boys to win a game! Who cheers for me?” (Exactly, Adolpha. Exactly.)

…I got my first cheerleading outfit when I was still in diapers. All of us [girls] did. If we were lucky, we made it to twelve before some man or boy, or some well-intentioned woman who just thought we ought to know the score, let us know why we were put on this earth. To cheer [men and boys] on. To smile and bring a little sunshine into the room. To prop them up and know them, and be nice to everybody we meet.

Their football team moved like some kind of machine, perfect and well-oiled. Their cheerleaders were like springs, bouncing and flipping and woo-wooing with their perfect bodies, perfect cheers, and perfect...pom-poms.

Be Your Own Biggest Cheerleader   The world can sometimes be a harsh and cruel place. Everyone has their own opinions on different things and some of them will have no problem voicing what they think about your dreams. I really wish everyone can have their own group of supporters who will encourage them and cheer them on, but that's hardly the case. For many, the reality is they just have to be their own biggest cheerleader.   Your opinion is what really counts. You can have tons of people tell you that you can achieve your dreams but if you personally don't believe it, you're not going to put in the effort to make your dreams happen. If you have tons of people hating on you and discouraging you, does it make things harder? Of course it does! But if you allow other people's opinion of you to negatively affect the belief you have in yourself, then you're just letting them win without even putting up a fight.

I gather sentences round, quotations, the literary equivalent of a cheerleading squad. Except that analogy’s screwy—cheerleaders cheer. I put up placards that make me feel bad.

A stupid gathering of brain cheerleaders shook their asses and cheered loudly in my psyche. Gonna get fucked! Can I get an F? Can I get a U? Can I—

• “I’m head cheerleader for the football team.” She shrugged. “Wait, back up a little…I’m screwing a cheerleader?” I groaned at the thousand lustful thoughts of her in a little cheer uniform. “You have a uniform?” I could feel myself getting excited at the thought alone. She nodded, rolling her eyes. “What is it with guys and cheer uniforms?” she teased, trailing little kisses across my cheek.

Cheerleaders sometimes support a certain player on the field,” Darius said as he pushed his hand into his pocket and took out a navy ribbon with the word Fireshield on it. “Will you cheer for me today, Roxy?

[High angel] Carter's fucked-up sense of humor in action.' [The angel] Lucinda flushed deep crimson. 'How can you use such language so carelessly? You sound like you're… like you're in a locker room!" I smoothed down my tank top. 'No way. I'd never wear this in a locker room.' 'Yeah, it isn't even in school colors,' said Peter. I couldn't resist toying with the guardian. 'If i were in a locker room, i'd probably have on a short cheerleader skirt. And no underwear.' Peter continued playing off me. 'And you'd do that one cheer, right? The one with your hands splayed against the shower wall and ass sticking out?' 'That's me,' i agreed. 'Always ready to take one for the team.' Even Cody[, the other vampire] flushed at our crassness. Lucinda was practically purple. 'You–you two have no sense of decency! None at all.

That's what people never understand: They see us hard little pretty things, brightly lacquered and sequin-studded, and they laugh, they mock, they arouse themselves. They miss everything. You see, these glitters, and sparkle dusts and magicks? It's war paint, it's feathers and claws, it's blood sacrifice.

Don’t count on cheerleaders once you start living a life more reflective of your truth. They may not want to do somersaults and backflips for your awakening, not when they’re still asleep. Don’t let that stop you. Most of us have only been trained to cheer for conformity, to commend those who are just like us. But aren’t you bored of being congratulated for fitting in? Aren’t you tired of ignoring your heart’s requests? Don’t wait for cheerleaders. Be grateful if they show up, but you show up regardless, with or without them. You will never be defined by the reception you get from others, only by the truth with which you receive yourself. Be your biggest cheerleader. Love yourself. And applaud every single step you take toward truth.

At a play-off game with the Chargers, goose bumps ran down my arms as I rushed through the smoke-filled tunnel onto the field. The energy and voices of 70,000 screaming fans can turn even a veteran player’s determined squint into the wide eyes of a child on Christmas morning. While the cheerleaders performed and urged on the crowd, running back Danny Woodhead turned to me. “Can you believe we get to do this?

As with everything she did, Aimi excelled. Academically, she was in the top one percent of students in the state and was in the track team that had just won the nationals. She said she only went in for cheerleading because she liked the physical activity. It made sense though, Sam thought. Because of her bright, cheerful attitude, she was also incredibly popular. At times Sam felt slightly jealous of her, but mostly he was just immensely proud.

Hey, yourself.” I beamed at the cheerleading squad's captain and then leaned down to whisper to La La. “What’s her name again?” “Jackie.” La La slung her jean satchel on her right shoulder and exhaled noisily. “I can’t wait until you get out of your Shapeshifter horny phase.” “The proper name is Season.” I drank in Jackie’s image as she jumped around, doing a cheer. Those round melons bounced with each movement. “And it usually takes Shifters seven to ten years to mature out of it, so buckle up and enjoy the ride.” La La snorted.

And that’s when the fun started. The Colonel led all of the cheers. “Cornbread!” he screamed. “CHICKEN!” the crowd responded. “Rice!” “PEAS!” And then, all together: “WE GOT HIGHER SATs.” “Hip Hip Hip Hooray!” the Colonel cried. “YOU’LL BE WORKIN’ FOR US SOMEDAY!” The opposing team’s cheerleaders tried to answer our cheers with “The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire! Hell is in your future if you give in to desire,” but we could always do them one better. “Buy!” “SELL!” “Trade!” “BARTER!” “YOU’RE MUCH BIGGER, BUT WE ARE SMARTER!

Wow,” he says, looking around. “You’ve redecorated.” “When was the last time you were in here?” I search my memory, browsing through images of a much smaller, shaggy-haired Ryder in my room. Eight, maybe nine? “It’s been a while, I guess.” He moves over to my mirror, framed with photos that I’ve tacked up haphazardly on the white wicker frame. Mostly me, Morgan, and Lucy in various posed and candid shots. One of Morgan, just after being crowned Miss Teen Lafayette Country. A couple of the entire cheerleading squad at cheer camp. I see his gaze linger on one picture in the top right corner. Curious, I move closer, till I can see the photo in question. It was taken on vacation--Fort Walton Beach, at the Goofy Golf--several years ago. Nan and I are standing under the green T-Rex with our arms thrown around each other. Ryder is beside us, leaning on a golf club. He’s clearly in the middle of a growth spurt, because he looks all skinny and stretched out. I’d guess we’re about twelve. If you look through our family photo albums, you’ll probably find a million pictures that include Ryder. But this is the only one of him in my room. I’d kind of forgotten about it. But now…I’m glad it’s here. “Look how skinny I was,” he says. “Look how chubby I was,” I shoot back, noting my round face. “You were not chubby. You were cute. In that, you know, awkward years kind of way.” “Thanks. I think.

Where will you go if you don’t get into NYU?” he asks. “Where else?” I say. “Ole Miss, with Lucy and Morgan.” “Then Ole Miss is my backup too. Here’s the thing, Jem. I’m going wherever you’re going--whether it’s New York or Oxford. I’m not missing my chance this time.” “Why?” The word just tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop myself. “You’re going to be some kind of college superstar, whether it’s the SEC or the Ivy league. You’ll probably win a freaking Heisman.” “And you just might win an Oscar,” he counters. I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right. Please.” “Why not? God, Jemma, you don’t even see it. How strong and smart and tenacious you are. Everything you do, you do well. I’ve never seen you put your mind to something and not come out on top. You win that trophy at cheer camp every single summer--what’s it called, the superstar award? Only three people at the whole camp get it or something like that, right?” “How’d you know about that?” “Miss Shelby told my mom. I think they put it in the yearbook, too, don’t they?” “Maybe,” I say with a shrug. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a cheerleading trophy. “And how long did it take you to win your first shooting tournament after your dad bought you that gun? Six months, tops? From what I hear, you’re the best shot in all of Magnolia Branch.” “Okay, that’s true,” I say, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. He reaches for my hand. “And then there’s those dresses you make, like the one you wore to homecoming. You take something old and make it new--turn it into something special. My mom says you and Lucy could make a fortune selling ’em, and I bet she’s right. Don’t you see? You’re not just good at the stuff you do--you’re the best. That’s just the way you are. So I have no doubt that you’re going to be some award-winning filmmaker if you put your mind to it.” My heart swells unexpectedly. “You really think that?” He nods, his dark eyes shining. “I really do.” “Tell me again why we’ve hated each other all these years?” “Because we’re both stubborn as mules?” he offers. I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’d say that about covers it.

The final score was five to zero, with high-scoring Brother, the hockey hero! The cheers for the Cousins were long and loud. They left the ice to the roar of the crowd. So there you have it. A stellar performance by Brother Bear and another victory for the Bear Country Cousins. This puts the Cousins in the big Valentine’s game against… the Beartown Bullies-- a dubious privilege at best. There was a special cheer for Brother as well. The cheerleaders gave him a well-deserved yell. They then addressed Brother in more personal terms. “Yuck, when it comes to mush, I’d rather eat worms.

hope more white people don’t move here.” My husband isn’t prone to sentimentality of any kind, or to worrying about white people, so I asked him why, and he said, “Because, kids were playing basketball by the school and they had cheerleaders cheering them on, and black men say hello to me on the street, and I love our little fruit market, and I don’t want this place to change.” But this place will probably change, if only because this is not a city where integrated neighborhoods last very long. And we are the people for whom the new coffee shop has opened. And the pet-grooming store. “You know your neighborhood is gentrifying,” my sister observes, “when the pet-grooming store arrives.

In here you're no one, cheerleader. You remember that. You can't even walk unless I say so. If they let me, I could drain you like a bathtub and watch you die. So how about a cheer for me? Because in here, I'm the star quarterback. -Nichelle

The door opened behind us and several of the cheerleaders shrieked as Darius strode in wearing his Pitball uniform, making a beeline for Tory. She was only in her skirt and sports bra, looking to him with her brows arching. “Flans on a Friday!” Geraldine exclaimed mid-lunge. “This is the ladies room and Jacinta has her Petunia out!” She pointed at Jacinta who was struggling to get her panties up her legs, getting entangled as she stared at Darius’s back in alarm. Darius rolled his eyes, ignoring the chaos around him as he fixed Tory in his sights while I fought a grin at the two of them. I couldn’t believe what Caleb had done for them and I was so happy that there was a way they could be together sometimes. Even if that did involve a threesome with two Heirs, at least she was enjoying herself. Get it, Tor. “Cheerleaders sometimes support a certain player on the field,” Darius said as he pushed his hand into his pocket and took out a navy ribbon with the word Fireshield on it. “Will you cheer for me today, Roxy?” He held it out for her and I swear she actually blushed. “I’m cheering for Darcy and Geraldine too.” “We don’t mind,” I said immediately. “Do we Geraldine?” “By all the rocks in Saturn’s rings, of course we don’t!” Tory shrugged in answer, a smile playing around her mouth and he leaned forward and wrapped the ribbon around her throat and tied it in place. “They’re normally worn on the wrist,” Geraldine whispered to me overly loudly. “This is most romantic.” “Good luck,” Tory said and he nodded before heading out of the room. I bit my lip, looking to her for a comment while Geraldine rested a foot up on the bench, pressing her elbow to her knee and perching her chin on her knuckles as she gazed wistfully at my sister. “What?” Tory asked innocently. “You know what,” I teased and she fought a grin, glancing over her shoulder as if checking to make sure he was really gone. Then she cast a silencing bubble around thethree of us and her expression became anxious. “It’s not that I don’t like the sweet side of Darius, but…” she started. “But what?” Geraldine gasped. “What is it?” I pressed gently when she didn’t elaborate. She sighed, looking a bit guilty. “I just miss our back and forth. This isn’t him. It’s just a nice version of him. I want the real Darius, not some watered down version. And I need to be sure the real Darius isn’t going to hurt me again. Like what happens when one day I piss him off and make him lose his temper again?” Geraldine’s jaw almost hit the floor, but before she could try and convince Tory otherwise, I spoke. Because I knew my sister, and I was starting to get a fairly good read on Darius too. And she had a point. He was on his best behaviour right now, but that couldn’t go on forever. If they were going to find some way to make this work, she needed to know what long-term Darius looked like. And besides that, she lived for being kept on her toes. (Darcy)

There’s not much of a difference between a stadium full of cheering fans and an angry crowd screaming abuse at you. They’re both just making a lot of noise! How you take it is up to you.

Feedback is backward-looking—it leads people to criticize you or cheer for you. Advice is forward-looking—it leads people to coach you. You can get your critics and cheerleaders to act more like coaches by asking a simple question: “What’s one thing I can do better next time?

Let’s consider changing the word “motivated” to “inspired.” Here’s why: if your challenge as the leader is to motivate people, I would argue that you’ve got the wrong people. People who need daily motivating require a cheerleader; your role as the leader is not to lead cheers. Your role is to create an environment where each individual can do great work in service of something bigger than themselves. Creating such an environment requires that you as the leader have and can articulate a compelling vision of the future and a compelling vision of the value of the work that you’re asking your team to do. Creating such an environment requires that you as the leader can articulate the value that each person on the team brings to that team. Creating such an environment requires that you as the leader understand what “value” means to each person on your team, how they define it, how they view it, where they see it, and where they don’t see it. You as the leader need to know, and enable, each person on your team to connect themselves to the value of the work in front of them. That’s inspirational leadership.

Publications aren’t the only forms of expression now governed by Hazelwood’s ruling that speech can be limited when administrators claim ownership of the statement and think it’s “unsuitable.” Courts have applied the standard to plays, homework assignments, team mascots, and even cheer-leading.62 A cheerleader in Texas was kicked off the squad after she refused to cheer for a basketball player whom she had accused of sexually assaulting her at a party. (He and another boy had been arrested, but a grand jury had refused to indict them.) Her suit was thrown out by a federal district judge and a three-judge panel on the Fifth Circuit, which cited Hazelwood among other factors, noting, “In her capacity as cheerleader, [she] served as a mouthpiece through which [the school] could disseminate speech.” The school, the judges ruled, “had no duty to promote [her] message by allowing her to cheer or not cheer, as she saw fit.”63

SEPTEMBER 11 Fueling Relief When we finally got the clearance to drive through the checkpoints, two weeks after the World Trade Center attacks, the street was lined with New Yorkers—New Yorkers!—waving banners with simple messages. “We love you. You’re our heroes. God bless you. Thank you.” The workers were running on that support as their vehicles ran on fuel. They had so little good news in a day. They faced a mountainously depressing task of removing tons and tons of twisted steel, compacted dirt, smashed equipment, broken glass. But every time they drove past the barricades, they faced a line of fans cheering them on, like the tunnel of cheerleaders that football players run through, reminding them that an entire nation appreciated their service. In a Salvation Army van with lights flashing, we attracted some of the loudest cheers of all. Moises Serrano, the Salvation Army officer leading us, was Incident Director for the city. He had been on the job barely a month when the planes hit. He worked thirty-six straight hours and slept four, forty hours and slept six, forty more hours and slept six. Then he took a day off. His assistant had an emotional breakdown early on, in the same van I was riding in, and may never recover. Many of the Salvationists I met hailed from Florida, the hurricane crews who keep fully stocked canteens and trucks full of basic supplies. When the Manhattan buildings fell, they mobilized all those trucks and drove them to New York. The crew director told me, “To tell you the truth, I came up here expecting to deal with Yankees, if you know what I mean. Instead, it’s all smiles and thank yous.” I came to appreciate the cheerful toughness of the Salvation Army. These soldiers worked in the morgue and served on the front lines. Over the years, though, they had developed an inner strength based on discipline, on community, and above all on a clear vision of whom they were serving. The Salvation Army may have a hierarchy of command, but every soldier knows he or she is performing for an audience of One. As one told me, Salvationists serve in order to earn the ultimate accolade from God himself: “Well done, thy good and faithful servant.” Finding God in Unexpected Places

You need to be your own cheer squad not your own worst enemy.

At Life’s Cheerleader we believe that everyone should have access to affordable coaching and that everyone deserves a CHEERLEADER! We learn new positive self image improvement skills each month, cheer on one another in achieving goals, and support each other in fulfilling our dreams.

We’re from far West Texas.” I let that linger for a moment before turning and shooting him a grin. “Otherwise known as California.” “Smart-ass.” He smiled wide and I forced my eyes back on the road. Oh Lord, that smile was perfect. “Let me guess. College?” “Yep.” “Isn’t it summer? Wouldn’t you want to go home during vacation?” “Uh, yeah. It is . . . but Candice has a cheer camp for elementary-school girls she’s working at this summer. And where Candice goes, I go.” He huffed softly and looked back at Candice and Mason. “Cheerleader. Yeah, I’d already kinda pegged her as one; she looks like it.” At barely over five feet, with bleached blond hair, bright green eyes, and an ever-present smile and bounce in her step, yeah, she definitely looked like it. “So you’re a cheerleader too?” “Ha! Um, no. Definitely not.” Candice usually had to drag me to games and was always getting on me about my lack of enthusiasm for sports. Not my fault they reminded me of my dad. I would always sit on the couch with him while he watched whatever games were playing. He’d taught me everything there was to know about each sport, and watching them now, I could still hear him calling out fouls, flags, and strikes before the refs or umps did it themselves. “So . . .” Kash drew out the word and turned his body so his back was against the door and he was facing me. “So, what?” “You’re not a cheerleader; what are you?” For such an innocent question, it hit me deep. I felt like I was walking around lost half the time, and the other half I was just following Candice to be near someone I considered family so I wouldn’t break down. I’d only majored in athletic training because it was close to Candice’s major. I didn’t want to do anything with it when I graduated—to be honest, I had no idea what I wanted to do when I graduated. I didn’t know who I was, let alone who, and what, I wanted to be. “I’m just Rachel,” I finally answered, and flickered a glance toward Kash to see his brow furrow as he studied me. We

Shut up,

dating

As the race gets tougher, when your cheerleaders lose the momentum to bless you with loud cheers, when you feel too weak to continue running towards the finish line due to sweat and tears, you may be tempted to give up, but hang in there. Pray for strength to keep pursuing your purpose with steadfastness. In the end, you will be duly rewarded.

As the race gets tougher, when your cheerleaders lose the momentum to bless you with loud cheers, when you feel too weak to continue running towards the finish line due to sweat and tears, you may be tempted to give up, but hang in there. Pray for strength to keep pursuing your purpose with steadfastness. In the end, you will be duly rewarded.

Casey had a great voice, and she was a really good dancer, which helped her so much with cheerleading. But as she was a strong contender for cheer captain, it wouldn’t be fair if she got the lead role in the play as well. Holding back my resentment was hard. Even though I knew how much Casey wanted me to get the role, the feeling lingered, and I dreaded what was in store.

Dear Miss Know-It-All, I worked really hard to make the eighth-grade cheerleading team this year, but the other cheerleaders treat me like I don’t belong. I never get to do much cheering or dancing like they do. The only time the team captain needs me is when we do the human pyramid, and she always puts me at the bottom! I have to hold the most people on my back, which is totally excruciating, and if I lose my balance, the whole pyramid collapses and everyone bullies me about it! I’m tired of those girls walking all over me. Literally! I don’t know what I did to deserve this kind of treatment, but it’s pretty obvious they all hate my guts. ! I’m majorly frustrated! I don’t know if I should quit the team, confront my teammates, or just keep quiet so I don’t make things worse. I really don’t want to give up my dream of making varsity! What would you do?? —Cheerless Cheerleader * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Dear Cheerless Cheerleader, Hon . . . I think you’re kidding yourself if you think you made the cheerleading team based on your awesome moves. My reliable source on the team told me your tryout routine was HOR-REN-DOUS. She said she couldn’t tell if you were trying to dance or going into convulsions! Your backflips were BACKFLOPS, your cartwheels were FLAT TIRES, and your dismount was totally DISGUSTING! Get the picture? You were chosen for one reason, and one reason alone—you look like a sturdy ogre who can carry a lot of weight! It’s been a long tradition for cheerleading captains to hand-pick strong, ugly girls for the bottom of the pyramid. Didn’t you know that?? Quit taking everything so personally! Just accept that the bottom is where you belong, sweetie! You should hold your green, Shrek-looking head high that someone actually wants you for something. Bet that doesn’t happen often! Yay you! Sincerely, Miss Know-It-All P.S. My source wants you to stop dancing. She says you’re giving the squad NIGHT TERRORS!

As Krona and Anston collected themselves and walked toward the locker rooms, black and red cheerleaders poured from a side door, and I knew who sent them the moment I saw them. They were carrying pom poms that looked to be made out of actual fire but didn’t burn them. Each wore the burning fist symbol of my father on their chests, and they danced out to form up in front of the stands reserved for him. “I-N-F-E-R-N-O, he’s our lord, our H-E-R-O!” they cheered. “Blessed be his name, blessed be, blessed be, Innnnferno!” “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” I buried my head in my hands and muttered, “He brought the Infernets. Of course.” Eric was absolutely enthralled. “The what now?” He eyed the cheerleaders like anyone would, admiring their high-cut skirts and the bizarre fiery pom poms they wielded. My father was clapping along to their chant in the front row like a toddler being shown an especially catchy song. He bounced in his seat and whistled enthusiastically. “The Infernettes,” I explained as I resisted the urge to groan. “He has his own cheerleading squad.

Plus, it was good to have a brain around, if only because the principal kept refusing to cancel finals.) Finals were cancelled now, along with Homecoming, cheerleading, and everything else about the world that mattered. The only question left was whether the human race was getting cancelled. Things didn’t look good for the home team.

You mean that school spirit is more powerful than the commands of an evil cheerleader bent on world domination through resurrection of the dead? Exactly!