In Praise of Female Athletes

I've been on vacation this past ten days. Actually, I've been in seclusion.

I've spent my time in rigorous sessions of yoga and workouts. I've read and studied. I've shoveled snow. I've cleaned the house from top to bottom. I've been thinking about the benefits and difficulties of self-discipline, self-sufficiency, and independence.

I've been thinking about my old life and ways I might be able to fashion a new life that might be more growth-centered and satisfying.

Thing is: When my wife was alive, I loved being US. Now I'm ME. And I'm not satisfied with me. I've concluded I need to make changes in myself and in my life-style.

So I've been searching for new ways to take control of my life and begin growing again.

Old wine in new bottles is not enough! I've decided I want new wine in new bottles! Maybe even a new setting. But maybe not. I'm well aware that new people are not the answer. I need to build a new life. I need to stand securely on my own two feet. News flash:

Cinderella is not coming to save me.

Ironically, it wasn't until I spent this past Saturday at the Mid-American Pompon Final Competition that I came up with some conclusions I feel may be worth sharing.

Before I can make clear what I've concluded -- and how I came to these conclusions -- I have to try to describe the discipline of pompon for those who have never seen, or perhaps even heard of pompon before. Even though I lived happily for over thirty years with a pompon coach, the defeatist in me counsels: "You can't adequately describe a pompon routine, Bob. It's gotta be SEEN and HEARD to be appreciated."

Nevertheless. . . .

First of all, pompons are those ribbony, colored hand-shakers you often see cheerleaders or marching-band dancers use. Pompons are small and compact, and they come in a variety of colors. Pomers also wear uniforms which are trim and attractive without appearing immodest. The pompons and uniforms reflect school colors.

Beyond that definition, I have to begin by saying what pom routines -- of the sort I want to describe -- are NOT. Pom routines are not at all like the uncomplicated movements you have seen cheerleaders do with pompons in their hands. Nor are these routines what you have seen young women do with pompons when they march down the street with high school bands. And while pom routines are akin to dance, they are not precisely dance either -- except that pom routines are a special sort of group performance set to music. And most really good pomers have had the benefit of a rich background in dance.

So! What IS poms -- as participants usually call it?!

First of all, poms is a rigorous sport in which young women of middle-school, high-school, and university age perform challenging routines to fast-tempo music. A typical routine runs between three and four minutes. Pom squads -- as we call them -- vary in number, but most highly skilled squads are comprised of sixteen to thirty-six members. The more participants, the more difficult the routine, for a number of reasons.

Think for a moment of the routines of the Radio City Rockettes. Here you have thirty or forty women -- dancing in high heels -- lined up high-kicking with great precision, in unison. Each leg and foot-placement, each hip, torso, shoulder, arm-hand, and head movement of each participant in that kick line appears exactly the same. Even the costuming from shoe to head-dress is designed to create the impression that every participant in that line looks identical to every other. Every movement of the entire routine -- including that kickline -- is strictly choreographed, practiced and mastered perfectly, and performed in unison.

The kick-lines and other spaced moves in poms are like that, too. However, the Rockette group movements, their glitzy costumes, and their hosiery and high heels are more like dance.

Poms, by contrast, is a skillful combination of gymnastic moves, like the floor-exercise event of gymnastics. Think of leaping toe-touches, quick flips, somersaults, and that sort of difficult gymnastics move. Think of snappy arm and head movements. Think of excitement. Because really high-quality pom routines are nothing short of awe-inspiring and exciting.

The music of pom performances is much faster, too. A well designed three-and-a-half minute routine will feature as many as 35-to-45 smooth and stunning formation changes, moving from one geometric form to another. Pomers perform toe-touches, forward rolls, and a variety of other leaps -- on the floor and above the floor. Every time I see thirty pomers leap into a sweeping toe-touch and land on the floor in a full split, I think about calling EMS. But apparently these young women are indestructible.

Everything about a good pom routine is difficult and exciting. Seeing one gymnast perform a striking floor routine is exciting. Seeing thirty-five pomers work together in a routine is awe-inspiring. Sometimes the moves occur in unison. Sometimes the moves sweep across the group at one-beat intervals. The combinations of quick-changing patterns of movement are designed to arrest the eye, to surprise and astonish the audience.

Meanwhile, each single-beat of the music requires quick changes of posture, involving arms, legs, torso, and head. Unlike in dance, where the moves may be fluid, each move in poms is distinct -- held for a split second. I am always astonished that pomers can recall the sequence of these rapid moves. I mean: recalling and mastering the hundreds of moves in a routine seems impossible to me.

Most of these youngsters have been involved with dance since they were toddlers. Those who last into their teens and beyond are truly gifted athletes. Typical pomers are agile, light, and strong. They're superbly conditioned and disciplined. They're highly skilled, tireless, and resilient. By the time these youngsters are middle-school age, they're practiced enough to apply their disciplined dancing skills to this new form called pompons.



Anyway, over an eight-hour period last Saturday, I watched over fifty pompon squads perform their routines. A high percentage of those routines were startlingly good. Eight expert judges used a variety of detailed evaluation forms to determine winners in six categories of performance.

As I watched these marvelous squads the question that suddenly popped into my mind was:

What qualities of these young female athletes have made

it possible for them to somehow convert their early

dance skills to this new form of artistic expression?

Obviously these youngsters have made a successful life-style change. And they have done it by applying old skills and attitudes to a new form of artistic expression, and in this difficult process have acquired new skills as well.

My daughter is a pom coach, as was my wife for nearly twenty years before her death. I've begun to consider interviewing coaches and pomers. What I would like to learn is how these coaches have helped their squad members make the difficult changes they've made from dance to pompon. I would also like to better understand how the pomers feel about the processes they've gone through. In what ways have they changed, and how do they feel about these changes. I'm not yet even certain what questions I'll have to ask.



Of course, what interests me is what I may learn from these coaches and athletes that may help me make the changes I need to make if I'm to start growing again.

I mean: grieving is good and necessary. But I know that I need to start growing again if I hope to find ways to make the remaining years of my life worthwhile and exciting.

Whether I believe it or not, my old life is gone.

My beloved wife and the work I loved are gone. I'm making progress with independence and self-sufficiency. But I'm thinking that maybe I can somehow build upon my old skills and attitudes while acquiring new skills and new approaches to living more productively.

Old as I am, I want one more fun and final phase of my life. I'm thinking

maybe I can learn
a whole new way of
dancing through life. . . .