by Dana Burkey
“But what if Nicole is mad?” I finally asked. As my coach, I knew it was Nicole that was the real person to consider in all of this.
“She might be,” he answered as he walked into the kitchen. I followed him, grabbing the remaining dishes from the table. “But I think if you talk it through with her at practice tomorrow then she won’t mind too much if you miss one day. I think when you explain to her that softball is important to you, but also explain that you are still committed to cheer, then she’ll be okay with you missing the one night.”
“That’s easier said than done,” I said, more to myself than to my dad. But, of course, he heard the comment.
“I know Nicole can be intense at times,” he began as he loaded the dishwasher. “But she cares about you girls. And I know she is going to understand. Other girls have other sports they do and things they have outside of the gym. She’s not going to be upset for you wanting to think about life after this season of cheer.” There was a pause then. “Speaking of which, have you thought more about next season?”
“No,” I admitted easily. “I want to just get through Summit first, and then I’ll have time to think about it.”
“You might want to think about it a little between now and then,” he advised, turning to look at me. “If you miss cheer for the pitching clinic and make a good team that might be the start of you needing to miss out on team events. Maybe not right now, but in a few months if you’re on a squad at the gym doing practices and conditioning over the summer, doing softball might mean you have to miss time with one of the two sports.”
I distracted myself with loading the dishwasher, my head beginning to hurt with all the intense thinking. Nicole was less intimidating to me now then she was when I first joined the gym when she had called me ‘Maxine’ all the time. But once she learned that only my mom ever called me by my full name, she started calling me Max and it was like the breakthrough in our relationship. After that, I felt more comfortable around her, and she showed me she cared about me and wanted me to learn and grow as a cheerleader. But, out of the three owners, she was the person I was least excited to have a conversation with about missing cheer. Telling Tonya or even TJ would be a little less nerve-wracking. Tonya and I were super close thanks to some bonding moments when I started at the gym. TJ, even though I didn’t know him super well, seemed to always be laughing and joking, so he was clearly pretty easy going. None of that mattered, though. I would need to talk to Nicole to get out of Thursday night's cheer practice, and I was already dreading it.
“Straight leg and you got this,” Halley said to me as she placed her hands on my back to help toss me into the air. It was the same reminder she gave me every time I was about to do my kick single. Sometimes I wondered if it really made a difference, but since I always made sure to keep my leg extra straight in the move, I had a feeling it might have helped at least a little.
As I landed back in the arms of my stunt team after the kick single, Anna told me her usual, “Awesome Max,” as I announced “Good catch.” It was all as much a part of the routine as everything else we did on the mat. Between every skill or jump or tumbling pass, we were always calling out things like that to one another. The added encouragement and ‘mat talk’ as Nicole called it, helped us to stay focused on what we were doing and also to break down the routine and take it one thing at a time.
Unfortunately, the mat talk was doing little to keep stunts in the air. After everything hit at the competition, Nicole wanted us to try the same routine a few times. That was a great way to start practice. But, since we hit everything, she wanted us to add back in a few changes that we had taken out less than a week ago. And that, as I feared it would, caused girls to no longer stay in the air on their flying. Tumbling passes were more or less hitting as planned, but without harder flying, I knew winning at Summit was next to impossible.
“Get some water. We’re going to work on pyramid for a bit before we try everything full out again.”
At Nicole’s instruction, we all walked to our bags and grabbed our water bottles. I looked around and saw a few girls lying down on the mats to rest, or sitting down to stretch. A lot of people were struggling after the practice, and it wasn’t even over yet. Taking a long drink of my water I realized that it was a great time to talk to Nicole. Not that I was looking forward to that moment. Thankfully Lexi walked over and distracted me so I could put off talking about softball a little longer.
“You hit the scorpion, right?” Lexi asked me, a determined look on her face.
“Of course,” I nodded, knowing Lexi and I were the only two that managed to stay in the air on the move after Nicole added it back in at the start of the team practice.
“Perfect,” she grinned, taking a drink from her water bottle before turning to walk off again.
“Lexi,” I called to her, making her turn to face me. “What are you doing?”
“I had an idea,” she said quickly, pulling on my arm so I was forced to take a few steps away from the rest of the girls around us. “If Nicole will let us still pull the move, we can change the timing on when the other girls go up so it looks like we were the only ones that were ever going to do it.”
“But won’t it look weird with me on the far left and you at center?” I asked, knowing that spacing and position on the mat was just as important as the skills we were performing.
“We would have to rearrange a little, but I think it could work to bring our routine up to the level where we need to be,” she grinned. “What do you think?”
“I like it,” I said honestly. “But would Nicole really be willing to make that change?”
“I’m about to go find out.”
Then Lexi walked off towards Nicole who was talking to Tonya. It was clear from their facial expressions that they were a little stressed about the routine. Taking out a lot of the harder skills was okay for one competition, but adding them back in was apparently the plan all along. Now that they were trying to add even more of the skills back in without success, it was clear they were working on a new strategy. Sure, we still had three weeks to get ready for Summit, but that time was ticking away quickly.
Trying not to stress about it too much, I sat down and worked on stretching. I didn’t need to stretch to do any of the moves I performed on the mat with Blast, but I knew I would be glad for the extra stretching Friday as I worked on more stunting with Connor and Gwen and everyone else. Thinking about working on skills with them without really knowing if I was going to be coming back to the gym for another season or not was strange. Since my dad brought it up to me I had been stressing about it a lot. I knew I had a little time to think about it, and hopefully there would be a chance at Summit for me to even talk it over with some of the girls on the team. Staying at the gym would be an easier decision if I knew I was going to be able to be on a team with a lot of the girls I had gotten to know all season. Or had their support if I was choosing to leave for softball.
“Gather around ladies,” Nicole called out, stopping me in my stretches. As I stood up and headed towards her, Lexi came sprinting my way with a skip in her step.
“She agreed?” I asked Lexi, although I more or less knew the answer thanks to the ear to ear smile on her face. But before she could answer me, Nicole began talking again.
“Okay everyone, we’re going to do something a little different,” Nicole began, a much less stressed look on her face than just minutes before. “You ladies are pushing hard and doing your best, but we have some skills right now that are a little less than consistent. So we’re going to go back to the same flying we did this past weekend. The new tumbling we added to help up our raw score is going to stay for now, and then Thursday we are going to rework some of the elite flying sections so we can be on track to hopefully make the finals at Summit. We’re going to spend the rest of tonight running the pyramid just like we did it last weekend, and then work on the new tumbling. But Thursday everyone needs to come to the gym ready to work hard. We have some bigg
er changes to make for most of the stunt teams, so it’s going to be a long night. Let’s set up for pyramid and end the night on a good note.”
Her words left me reeling. I spend the next 45 minutes working on pyramid, tumbling, and trying to figure out how I was going to tell Nicole I wasn’t going to be there Thursday. At the start of practice, it seemed like a hard conversation to have. But, after hearing how important the next team practice was going to be, it had me doubting if I really should go to the pitching clinic at all. As I finally walked up to Nicole at the end of the night though, I wasn’t sure if I was even going to be able to get all of the words out.
“Nicole, can I talk to you for a second?” I asked before I lost the nerve.
“Of course,” Nicole smiled back at me. “What is it, Max?”
“Well, um, I wanted to tell you something.” It was a weak start, but I kept going just so I could be done with it. “I have a softball clinic I need to go to on Thursday so I won’t be at practice. I would have told you sooner but I just found out about it yesterday, and I need to go if I want to make it onto a good team for the season.”
There was a pause after I spoke, as Nicole tried to take everything in. It felt like a million years went by in that time, but it was actually only a few seconds. That was a good thing too since I held my breath the whole time.
“We’re making a lot of changes on Thursday that involve you and Lexi primarily,” she slowly told me. “Are you sure if you miss it you will be about to catch up on everything?”
“I think so,” I nodded. “I never really struggled with the old routine, so even if we change everything back to that I think I’ll be okay.”
“That’s very true.” Nicole glanced over at the other girls of Blast as they were packing up their gear, and then back at me. “Max, do you like cheerleading?”
“Of course,” I replied, not really sure where that question had come from.
“Is it just because it’s so easy for you?”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I like that I got to make friends and work on some harder stuff sometimes too.”
“But nothing we’ve been doing on Blast has been hard for you for a long time now.” Even though Nicole’s statement was a fact, it also sounded a little like a question. I more or less just shrugged in response, not sure what else to do or say. “You’re an amazing cheerleader. And the gym is lucky to have you here. But I think we’re not challenging you enough. Next year we want you to move to one of our senior teams, as long as you’re interested.”
“Really?” Her comment made sense after all of my time in skills classes, but it was still a little weird to hear. Moving up to a level 4 team was one thing, but until that moment I always assumed any move I made would be to another junior team.
“Absolutely,” Nicole said with a smile. “You’re really talented, and we know you have even more potential than we’ve seen so far. But I don’t think any of that matters if it’s not what you want. I’m not saying you missing a practice means you’re quitting the gym. But I want you to really think about how much cheerleading means to you. If you make a senior team, then missing practice for things like softball clinics won’t be something that can happen often.”
“I understand,” I said as seriously as I could. I was glad my dad had mentioned almost the same thing so I had already been mulling it over some time. “Right now I just don’t feel like missing one day is going to matter much. The skills are easy enough for me that sometimes practice feels like I can just be going through the motions and still make everything hit.”
“You aren’t being challenged at Blast.” Nicole’s way of summing it up was perfect. She said it with a serious look on her face, one I didn’t know how to interpret. “Well, best of luck at the softball clinic. When you’re here Friday for your skills class I will fill you in a little on everything and then next Monday you can get everything under your belt. If you and your stunt group can make it Saturday to the open gym that would be a good time to play catch up as well.”
“Okay,” I replied with my best attempt at a smile. “Thanks, Nicole.”
I walked over and grabbed my cheer bag then, not really focusing on the girls around me. Nicole’s words were replaying in my mind, and the idea of being on a senior team was almost too much to accept. Part of it was because I knew usually only athletes that were 13 and up got places on senior level teams, despite the fact that 12-year-olds were allowed in that division as well. That fact meant that Lexi, who was only 11, and Halley, who was only 12, would likely not be placed on a team with me. In fact, I realized as I walked towards the door of the gym, there were only three other girls on my squad who were 13. It meant if I stayed at the gym I might be moved to a team where I didn't know anyone at all. The idea of having to start over and getting to know up to 29 other cheerleaders while working on harder skills was intimidating, to say the least. I tried to remind myself that it was only an obstacle I would tackle if I stayed at the gym. And with that decision still up in the air, I tried not to focus on it. Instead, I began focusing on the softball clinics that were now only two days away.
After spending so many months at TNT Force, walking into the middle school gymnasium where the softball pitching clinic was being held was a little strange. First of all, no one was wearing makeup, glittery clothing, or cheer bows. Second of all, it was so serious. Usually, when I arrived at cheerleading practice, I was greeted with hugs and high-fives, people would be laughing and chatting, and everyone was usually smiling and glad to be there. At softball, however, people looked really focused and intense, and not very welcoming at all.
I saw a few girls I kind of recognized as I walked in and headed over to the check-in table. It was a little weird to not have my dad there, but unlike cheerleading, softball wasn’t really a sport where parents stayed to watch practice. So, I signed in, pinned a white square of paper with the number 12 on my shirt and then went to get some catching gear on. There was a large group of girls all there to pitch as well as catch, so I quickly slipped on my leg and chest guards and grabbed a face mask so I was ready to go as soon as someone needed me. I assumed I would be able to chat with some of the girls and hang out before we got to work like I was so used to doing at cheer. Unfortunately, that was the complete opposite of how things went.
Instead of chatting and making friends, I was more or less ignored by everyone as they focused on the task at hand. Everyone was there to show their skills, although the clinic was supposed to be a time to work on your pitching with the help of local coaches. The girls in the gymnasium were trying their hardest to throw nice and accurate, to make their pitching appear effortless, and prove they should be on one of the top teams. None of that involved talking to anyone else or getting to know people at all apparently. Some girls seemed to be talking in little groups, but they usually were wearing the same shirt, showing they were on the same team the year before. Although I had played every season since I moved to Texas, it had always been in the younger age division. So, not many people at the clinic would even recognize me. I tried to remind myself of this, thinking it would be different if I knew the other girls walking in. That wasn’t too important, though. The important thing was for me to focus on catching and show the coaches what I could do. All I had to do was find someone to team up with that I could catch for.
“I’m Max,” I said with a smile as I put my hand out to greet a pitcher who was standing closest to the catching gear pile. “Do you want to work together?”
“I’m Zoe,” she said back to me, not shaking my hand. Instead, she looked down at me, her intense brown eyes looking me over. “You’re kind of short. Are you sure you can give a good strike zone?”
“Of course,” I assured her, knowing that where I held my mit while catching was super important to whoever was pitching. “I’ve been catching for two years, so I know how to make my height work to my advantage.”
“Whatever,” Zoe replied, then walked over to one of the open lanes. I
shrugged it off, happy to be getting started if nothing else.
The large gym was taped off with blue painter’s tape, making it clear where each pitching and catching team should stand. There was a standing coach at each of the lanes, but over time they rotated through to see all of the girls and give tips as needed. Zoe turned out to be a really bad pitcher, throwing wild pitches that I had to struggle to get control of. But, as I had assured her, my experience made me good at my job. Since I was shorter than most of the girls, I was able to shuffle my body easily and only allowed a few balls to get past me.
Eventually, Zoe took a break and I began catching for another girl that was waiting for a turn to pitch. The girl jogged over to my lane as soon as Zoe walked away, clearly eager to show the coaches what she could do. I was hoping to take a little break, but thankfully the new pitcher was a lot better than Zoe. In fact, by the time she was done throwing a few dozen balls my way, I only had to move to catch a few stray throws. She pitched right on the money almost every time.
“You’ve got a great arm,” I told the girl as we were packing up. It was the first time I spoke to her the whole night since I was usually 30 feet away from her. “I’m Max.”
“Thanks,” she replied with a smile. “I’m Cate. You’re really good at catching. That girl throwing before me really made you work for the ball.”
“Yeah, just a little,” I laughed, glad I was talking to someone who was finally at least a little friendly. “So how long have you been pitching?”
“Just a year,” she explained. “But my dad is a baseball coach so I spent a lot of time practicing at home this winter. He coaches my brothers’ team so he wanted me to come today so other people could see me pitch too.”
