So at cheerleading practice tonight the captains gave out the first ever spirit stick. They’ve decided that each month they’ll give a spirit stick to the squad member who’s worked the hardest, shown the most enthusiasm, been the most positive, etc., etc. I got very excited when they started talking about this, because it was obvious to me that I was going to get it. I’ve been working my ass off (by the end of last week’s practice I was doing standing back handsprings), and I’m so enthusiastic my friends are starting to worry about me. The coach even sent me an e-mail telling me how much he appreciated my hard work and what a valuable addition I was to the squad and he hoped I’d stay for a long time. So when the captains started describing (without naming names, of course) my dedication, my positive influence on my teammates, my general willingness to give 110%, I made sure not to look them in the eye and force them to betray ahead of time that I was going to get the spirit stick. They wound up their speech of appreciation and indicated that we should all do a drumroll, which we did. I shifted my weight to step forward and accept my award, the corners of my mouth creeping up in an anticipatory smile I couldn’t keep off my face. “And the spirit stick for February goes to . . . G.G.”
G.G. no more deserves the spirit stick than William Rehnquist does. God damn G.G. to hell. I hope he drops it and is cursed forever and goes to Hades.
And I’m going to start plotting now to make damn sure I win it next month.
Oh dear. How can this have happened?
Perhaps, until next month, you will have to satisfy yourself with the spirit stick of L., or possibly R.
Hmmm Shane Stant, a lead pipe, a getaway car…it could work…
I think I’d be disturbed by the concept of a spirit stick in any setting, but in the context of a gay cheerleading squad I just find it wrong.