School Fight Song.

Tonight our small, but mighty pep-band played an awesome version of the Boyer Valley fight song.
Unfortunately, the cheer squad was late getting back from offering hospitality to the Logan cheerleaders- it wasn't their fault and I wasn't angry with them about it. But something did happened that was just striking, I mean it amazed me so I wanted to tell as many students as I could about it.

On our side of the stands every single adult, 20's thru 80's were all standing up. 3/4 of the stands, it was moving. They were proud and they were clapping to the beat. It was incredible.

The other 1/4 of the stands? Not a single student stood. None. It was weird, like an episode of the Twilight zone. Now, I'm not angry about it or blaming anyone. I genuinely think that all our kids are simply clueless. But I don't think they had any idea how rude and sad and strange it was that they were all just sitting there talking or texting on their phones as if nothing were happening.

As the cheerleading coach, I feel like I've failed you. You guys, this may seem like no big deal, but it is a big deal. You don't talk while someone else is praying, you don't leave your hat on at a funeral, you stand up during the National Anthem, and you know what? You stand up when YOU school fight song or alma mater is played. If you don't know the words, fine- who really sings along to the National Anthem either, but at least, at the VERY least, you stand up. Its just what you do. It's like not talking with your mouth full or not farting at the opera. It shows that you care about yourself and take pride in yourself. It shows respect for tradition and for the community. Maybe you think it's a "one-horse town" and you can't wait to get outta here, but while you're here, show some class, show some pride in yourselves. Show visiting schools that you are glad your Bulldogs.

Mrs. Staley prints the words in the programs of every basketball game. So you don't HAVE to really learn them. But come on, if these are really the best years of your lives, and your classmates are your best friends, if you have any school spirit or self-respect at all, please rise when our own personal mini-national anthem is played. Our tiny little band can REALLY belt it out.

Just in case you want to print them out, write them down, copy and paste them to your MySpace & FaceBook pages or actually LEARN the lyrics, here they are:

Onward Bulldogs, Onward Bulldogs
Fight on for your fame.
Run the ball right down the court
And a victory's sure this game.
Rah, Rah, Rah!
Onward Bulldogs, Onward Bulldogs
Fight on for your fame.
Fight bulldogs, Fight and you will win this game!


And if you think that school pride is important, teach your friends or even forward on this email.

Be true to your school,
Coach Mallory

Thanks, I needed that

Thanks, I needed that
Charter Oak-Ute NEWSpaper & Schleswig LEADER, Thurs. June 1, 2006

It's not always easy to remain positive, the way cheerleaders are supposed to, but that's why we have cheerleaders- to help us (& each other) to think positive.

Last night I stayed at school to work on finishing the yearbook and to save money on gas, since we had the Spring awards banquet. I was feeling sorry for myself 1) that the yearbook staff had left so much for me to do and 2) that I wouldn't get to see my own kids that night. I thought I'd wait till just before the banquet to go because I'm not very comfortable in social situations, so it's awkward to try to make small-talk any longer than I have to.

Naturally my truck wouldn't start. I looked under the hood aimlessly, as if by looking at something I know nothing about would miraculously solve the problem. We used to have an old car that you sometimes needed to tap on the distributor cap to get it to start. That worked magically every single time you did it. My truck didn't seem to have a distributor cap.

I followed the cables from the battery to the spark plugs. I knew it wasn't the battery because it turned over fine, it just didn't start. I fiddled with the spark plugs, as if maybe that would help just like tapping on the distributor of that old Buick used to. Nothing. The guys at the garage had assured me that the plugs were fine.

There had been two or three mornings when it wouldn't start so I asked them to look when I had had it in for an oil change. They said that the plugs were too new, they had given it a tune up just last year. They said that it started up every time for them, but from my explanation it sounded like a fuel filter or fuel injector.

Trying to get it to start once more so I could make it to the awards banquet, I hoped it was just the fuel filter, not the fuel pump or the injector. I had bought a bottle of fuel injector cleaner the last time I got gas, I put it in the tank and followed it up with some unleaded that I had in the gas can that I keep in the back for the lawn mower. Nothing. The next day my farmer-in-law reminded me that if it were a fuel filter it would start to cut out whenever I'd try to accelerate. Never had, just didn't want to start.

I tried again. Nothing. I looked under the hood again, still not knowing what to look for. I wanted to find the choke. That always works, I told myself. Of course I had no idea where the choke was- somewhere below the steering column down by this side of where the throttle is inside I reasoned. No, nope. Hmmm, is it on top of the engine block somewhere? Oh, who was I kidding? Even if I knew where it was, there's always two guys whenever guys pull that trick. One inside to gun the gas and another under the hood to pull on the choke.

Dang, why didn't I take Engines or Auto Shop in high school? Noooo, I had to take stupid Drafting. Like I ever use that? When was the last time I ever drew a 3-D schematic for some machine-tooled part? Dumb guidance counselor.

Finally I called my wife to ask for a ride after the banquet. The next day, if he'd gotten his crop in, I'm sure my beloved farmer-in-law and/or his mechanic neighbor could come look at it and at least help me get it to the guys at the garage. I started walking to the banquet.

I was relieved that I hadn't missed the meal. I was the very last person in line behind all the parents. I took the very last seat at the coaches and teacher's table. I don't know if I'm losing my hearing or if it was just the din of the crowd, but I had a tough time hearing any of the conversations at the table, which made polite small talk even harder.

Plenty of chummy humor between the Athletic Director who Emceed and the other ball-sport coached, who were sitting on the opposite end of our two or three tables. I never really fit in with all the jocks when I was in school either. At least the sports editors on the school paper were pretty nice to me. Maybe that's why I work so hard to actually coach and not just be one of those lazy sponsors who never even attends any games with their cheer squads. Maybe I'm overcompensating or trying to prove something to somebody. Whatever.

Yadda yadda yadda, scholarships, music, band, science, blah blah blah, etc. etc. Not that that's bad, all the presenters were great, all the kids deserve recognition, it's just that no one ever enjoys these things do they? I don't even like the Oscars that much. At least at the Country music awards you get to hear bands play. Dang it, Coach, why do you make me second to last? I just want to get it over with. I'll never be able to say anything as clever and insider as you football, basketball, baseball and golf guys... okay here we go.

Geez, how come I have no trouble at all talking in front of people all day long, but this freaks me out? Maybe because that's 10-20 kids at a time in a classroom and this is more than half the kids in school, plus most of my colleagues and administrators, plus all those kids parents all at once.

So I get it done. I feel bad because I fell like I made it sound like I didn't appreciate or don't like the football cheerleaders, but at the same time I don't feel like I did a good enough job of letting the basketball cheerleaders know how much I appreciated them or what an outstanding job they did. But, I didn't stutter or get any name wrong and I was brief- which is what most people want anyway. And when I got back to my table the History and Science teachers said they liked my joke, although they were the only two who got it.

Needless to say, it had been a rough night. I walked back to school Bethany wasn't there to pick me up yet, but there were post-it notes all over my windshield. It was the junior high cheerleaders. They'd been to Adventureland with the junior high choir. “We luv U Coach,” “#1 Cheer Coach,” “Go Bulldogs,” and “We will miss you!”

They didn’t realize it, but they had done what cheerleaders are supposed to do, even on the last day of school. They gave me a lift and reminded me to be positive. Thanks girls.

My life as a cub reporter at the Sports Desk

This should be my last week as a sports reporter. It’s almost a shame to retire so young from such an illustrious and rewarding career, but I believe that the time has come for me to hang up my cleats and move on. Besides, I’m pretty sure that there’s no danger of me joining the ranks NBC’s Bob Costas orChris Berman of ESPN.

Butch Walker, the publisher of the Dunlap Reporter was going to have to have surgery. He needed someone to cover Boyer Valley High School’s Friday night football games for him for at least a month. I’m pretty sure that his first choice was a former student of mine named Justin.

Justin is a premiere sports photographer. He was our yearbook’s photo editor last year and has sunk a lot of money into his equipment. Unfortunately for Butch, Justin had just gotten home from basic training for the National Guard and was headed to Alaska for several weeks on a photo-excursion with some uncle or something.

Butch’s next choice was Brett, a Junior and our mascot. Brett’s life long aspiration is to become a CPA. Not to cast aspersions on his writing abilities, but he’ll tell you himself that he’s more comfortable with numbers than words.

Be that as it may, he has served as an announcer for various 4-H livestock shows and junior rodeo events and he is at every game. Of course, how much of the game can you see from inside a foam bulldog head? Brett asked Butch for time to think about it, but told me almost immediately that he was going to decline.

If I remember right, I believe I actually had to offer to cover Boyer Valley Football for Butch before he (I hope not too reluctantly) made me his third choice. He had statistics forms for the head coach to fax him anyway, so the coaches would just fill them out and send them to me Monday morning instead. I’d do the write-up and send it to Butch’s wife and staff by deadline Tuesday.

Now, I’m not completely oblivious to the fact that I wouldn’t be everybody’s first choice to write sports. I coach a predominantly female sport that is often ridiculed or at least marginalized as a non-sport. I’m an Art teacher for Cripe’s sake. Those two put together and people tend to think I’m a sissy. If they don’t suspect I’m gay, I’m sure they at least think that I’m way too “in touch with my feminine side” to like or know anything about sports.

I’ll admit this much; growing up I wasn’t good at sports, I had a short attention span, and I was bad at memorizing names and numbers. This doomed me where communicating with other guys is concerned. I couldn’t keep the names of rock bands, brands of stereos, or makes and models of cars in my brain, let alone stereo component and car parts.

So I’d hang out with girls. That was fine, I didn’t like competing with guys or comparing myself to other guys and I DID like girls. Man, did I like girls. Unfortunately for me, maybe because I treated them well, because I listened to them, or who knows, maybe they thought I was gay too, all the girls I had crushes on only wanted to “just be friends.”

I’ll also admit that I didn’t have a lot of respect and probably unfairly prejudged and stereotyped a lot of “jocks.” The athletes in my high school seemed to me to be arrogant (even when they lost), treated girls like disposable tissues, and were hypocrites where health and fitness were concerned. They had better bodies than me because they worked out and exercised, but they deliberately drank till they puked or passed out on a weekly basis, if not more often.

But, over the course of the last 15 years or so my attitude has changed. I see that sports is an outstanding opportunity to teach character. Coaches see kids in a context that regular classroom teacher’s don’t. Everything from work-ethic to resolving conflicts with teammates. I’ve read books by Tiger’s Manager Sparky Anderson, Husker legend Tom Osborne, and UCLA basketball Coach John Wooden that I feel have helped shape me and I hope have helped me shape the students I coach.

I’ve come to realize that successful jocks can’t be dumb jocks. Strength and skill aren’t enough. The guys who are starters in high school are the ones who were paying attention in junior high. You have to know how to execute a play and how to compensate for the unexpected. Even a game of force like football has strategy as subtle as chess and the winners are the ones who take advantage of that fact.

And I have watched at least ten high school football games a year for that last twelve years. I still don’t follow the NFL or NCAA that much, I’ll catch a couple games of each per year. Frankly high school football is a lot more fun. It’s much more unpredictable. I also like it better because I know who’s playing. Now that I’ve been at BV for five years or so, I had the Juniors and Seniors way back in junior high.

And I’ve come to recognize the value sports holds as a cultural lynch pin. What I mean is, girls may talk about their feeling, they may talk about guys, they may talk about shoes. Guys, guys talk about their work, the weather, and sports. Fortunately for me, I’ve learned enough about football and baseball to hold my own. What’s more, I’ve learned that if you ask questions, guys who know more about it are all too happy to share what they know. That way you don’t sound like a freak or a snob, you just sound like either you don’t have satellite or your wife won’t let you waste all day in front of the tube.

I have to tell you, there’s no seat in the stadium like the one I’ve had this past month. Stay out of the coaches’ way, use the telephoto lens, and don’t trip on the chain gang and it’s amazing what you get to see and hear. Several times I’ve had to step out of the way of a train wreck that crossed out of bounds. Of course, I never seem to click the shutter button in time to capture it.

Nothing compares to being up on the edge of the field, only two or three yards ahead of the action. Why watch millionaires play on TV when you can experience the action up front. The best seat is to be standing the whole game and it only comes with a press pass.

Click HERE to read one of my football stories

trying to remain cheerful

I've seen other cheerleading websites, but I’ve only ran across one other cheerleading “blog” while surfing the web. And mine is the only Cheer Coach’s “blog.” A blog is a web-log, a journal or diary kept on the internet. Most of the more famous blogs are political. There are now so many of them that you hear TV news pundits talking about a “blogosphere.”

Of course, last I knew the only other male cheer coaches in Iowa was one guy at a community college and some guys who own an exclusive Cheerleading gym outside of Des Moines. I’ve been posting a lot of entries lately, if you’d like to take a look at it, click on over to http://cheercoach.blogspot.com.

Before you say, he has too much time on his hands, keep in mind that that a blog isn’t something that you have to put a lot of work into like most websites, A blog is a free service and they basically give you a template and a program to add to your web browser so that all you have to do is type and click.

It’s been an interesting season so far. Iowa allows each high school 8 cheerleaders during football season and 6 for basketball. In a perfect world, you’d have 2 Freshmen, 2 Sophomores, 2 Juniors, and 2 Seniors. In a perfect world, you’d hold tryouts in the Spring, get 12 or 20 candidates and choose the best 8. Then you’d go to a camp or clinic during the summer and maybe even get a few practices in before school even started.

I’m here to tell you, there is no perfect world. Last year I had 5 Seniors and one Freshman. We had tryout practices but only had 4 candidates. We had tryouts, but 2 of the 4 candidates chickened out.

We were supposed to have ordered new uniforms last Spring, but we didn’t even have a squad until school started about a month ago.

I had 5 cheerleaders, 2 of which are TOTAL rookies, and only 4 ½ uniforms, 2 bags, 4 sets of pom pons, and only one megaphone (guilt-guilt & shame former cheerleaders!). Did I mention that 3 of those 4 ½ uniforms fit really bad? And we haven’t had time to think about new uniforms because we’ve hardly practiced so we hardly know any chants. (Let alone cheers and stunts).

Nikki is the skinniest kid on squad... a 25 inch waist but we STILL can't get a uniform that fits her. We need to do something about it- parent in the stands were even complaining about how her navel shows. I don't think I've had a 25 inch waist since I was say 8 yrs old.

We're kind of a motley crew, but at least there's a squad. Underclassmen all the way.
3 Sophomores; one was on Varsity last year, one was on Junior High for a brief time, and another that was on junior high for two years- she even got 3rd place at the Iowa State Fair for Gymnastics!

Then there are the 2 Freshmen; complete rookies to the sport of cheerleading, one of whom is pretty cynical and pretty stubborn.

Several kids have approached me and told me that they’re planning on coming out for basketball season. AWESOME- although, if I want uniforms that fit, should I wait till after tryouts in November to measure & order? Of course, I had several kids tell me that they were coming out last Spring but they didn’t.

One of my rookies must have felt alienated, like she didn’t have any friends on the squad, because she went to work and recruited two (for THIS season). One’s quiet as a mouse and while the other cheered last year in Junior High, is painfully shy and doesn’t want to perform in front of the whole student body at pep rallies.

That’s Varsity. Junior High is about as complicated- 3 out of my 5 Junior High cheerleaders are now ineligible because of poor grades, and one of the 2 left has a broken ankle, so she’ll be on the Disabled list for about 6 weeks.

Guess how she did it- she was watching a cheer competition on ESPN and decided to practice some chants at home.

Then there are the three seventh graders; THERE'RE SO TINY! I guess I got too used the almost-all-Senior Varsity squad I had last year. This group really makes me feel old though, because when I first came to Boyer Valley 5 years ago, I taught them Art as Second-Graders!

Class of 2005

This Sunday, Charter Oak- Ute will commemorate the graduation of another class. Boyer Valley Seniors walked across the stage last week. I’m not quite sure when Denison-Schleswig or Maple Valley hold their graduations, but I’m sure it’s that time of year for them as well.

I’d like to dedicate this week to those members of the class of two-thousand and ought five.

I feel a special connection to your class. I’ve been a high school teacher now for 12 years, just shy of what sociologist call a “generation” (13 yrs) and most of you were born the year that I graduated from high school, 1988.

You were eighth graders when I moved here to Iowa, so I’ve really got to see you change if you’re in St. John Lutheran, Charter Oak’s youth group or a student where I teach in Dunlap.

I want to talk to you as if you were my own child or at least a niece or nephew. I want to give you some meaningful, practical advice that you can use.

First, if you’re sticking around here and going right into the job force: my advice is the same for freshmen coming into high school. Get involved, only obviously I don’t mean in school, I mean in your community. The only way to make a place better is for you to help. The best way to make sure that other people will be willing to lend you a hand when you need it is to lend a hand.

You’re really lucky to live somewhere where people know each other, look each other in the eye and actually talk to each other. Take advantage of it. No matter how well or how poorly you did in school, you will do well if you get involved and participate in your town, local clubs and civic organizations, and of course your church.

You won’t regret it, you’ll earn respect and help contribute to our quality of life.

Next, if you’re entering into the armed services, either active service or in the Guard or Reserve. I know way too many of you. First of all, thank you in advance. You may be in it for a job or for money for college, but you’re working, standing, sacrificing, risking and fighting for all of us.

The best advice I can give you is what my dad, a Marine sergeant told me. “They can tell you what to do, where and when to sleep, what to eat, how to speak and act, but no matter how much they try, they can’t tell you what to think unless you let them.”

People who’ve been through Basic tell you that the most important thing to do in basic is to be a team player- the whole goal of Basic training is to break you down as an individual so that they can rebuild you as part of a unit. Help your fellow soldiers and don’t be ashamed to ask them for help and you’ll not only survive but thrive.

You CAN support the troops and still not support the war, so don’t resent people who do, you’re fighting for their freedom to do so. Remember you are a citizen soldier. You serve at the pleasure of your Commander in Chief, but that doesn’t mean you have to vote to please him too.

And most importantly, "6 Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." ~Deuteronomy 31:6

Now, those of you headed for college. College can be a pretty scary place (at least for the first couple of weeks) and it will probably be more challenging than high school was. Don’t quit after the first semester. You can do it.

To survive at college, you will need to follow the same advice that I give to 7th and 8th graders the first day of school: show up to class, do your work, put your name on it, and turn it in. If you do that much, you can at least expect to pass. Your grades may not be stellar, but you’ll pass.

Next, keep perspective. For some kids, the first semester of college is as emotionally intense as all four years of college put together. Don’t let that panic you. It feels cool to know that all of a sudden you’re out on your own and legally a grown up, but keep in time that you’re still learning, growing and maturing and you don’t know everything yet. So let yourself make mistakes.

Some people seem to think that college is all about pizza, beer and sex. Keep fun in it’s place. Are you having a drink? Or does the drink have you? Are you having sex, or does it have you? It’s normal to try new things, it’s normal to want to fit in with everybody else, and it’s normal to want to have fun, but always remember that your decisions determine your destiny. Most of the people who drop out of college can’t blame grades or money- the grades and money get eaten up by poor choices.

Finally, to all of you. Enjoy the ride. Life is a journey, not a destination. Use things and love people, don’t use people and love things.

“Success is the peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” ~John Wooden, UCLA

A lot is said about kids today. Mostly critical and cynical (by me included) but I want to be the first to tell you that most of you make me feel very secure about the future.

Congratulations, and good luck.

Loud and proud

March 7-13, 2005 is National Cheerleading Week. According to USA Today. There are about 3 million cheerleaders in the US today. Varsity Spirit, largest of about 50 cheerleading companies, made almost $150 million last year. American Cheerleader magazine debuted in 1994 and now has a circulation over 200,000.

Tommy Lee Jones recently stared in “Man of the House,” a movie where he plays a Texas Ranger charged with protecting members of the University of Texas cheer squad who had witnessed a murder. Its cheesy, contrived and predictable, but still cute. Of course, I may appreciate it more than most. I’ve been coaching Cheer since 1993. I know what its like to be trapped in a van with six giggling teenage girls for hours at a time.

The first organized cheers were chanted at Princeton football games in the 1880’s. The first official Yell squad was at the University of Minnesota in the 1990’s. In the roaring 20’s squads started adding pyramids and tumbling. Cheerleading was a predominantly male sport until all the men went off to war in the 1940’s.

Cheerleading is purely American. Think about it. Baseball evolved from Cricket, Football evolved from Rugby. Only Basketball and Cheerleading are purely American originals.

In High School, cheerleading is about school spirit. College cheerleading is all about stunts and athletics. Unfortunately, the cheerleaders for professional football and basketball seem to be more about glamour and swimsuit calendars. Kind of like how respectable high school and college wrestling are as sports, but Pro-Wrestling is pretty much a corny, violent soap opera.

Club squads, which are not affiliated with schools have become very popular recently. Performing and competing against other cheer squads has become more important to these “all-star” squads as a sport in their own right then raising the spirit at football or basketball games.

The National Federation of State High School Spirit Associations’ official rules book states the first duty of Cheerleading is to “boost school spirit, promote good sportsmanship, and develop good positive crowd involvement Cheerleaders are in a position of great influence, therefore” …"high standards of conduct are essential. Cheerleaders can become the schools most effective student leaders.”

As a coach, I tend to agree with this philosophy. I take it even further. Cheerleading can be a tremendous opportunity to develop important qualities in yourself, your squad-mates and your classmates that will help you throughout your life and in every aspect of your life. The most obvious one might be fitness and fitness habits. I personally think that the most important ones are service, confidence, and positivity.

Service is vital to Cheer and to leadership. You would be amazed as a football or basketball player at the difference that a good cheer squad and crowd noise can make. We are there for them. Cheerleaders shouldn’t be self-focused, we should be focused on others. The ball-team athletes will tell you, there’s something powerful about playing with a lot of noise. Cheerleaders can make a lot of noise, but their job is to get the crowd to make noise, to lead them in cheers.
When the stands are packed and chanting in unison, its electric. It really can help the players, it literally can help determine the outcome of the game. If you’ve been to any of the Lady Bobcat basketball tournaments, you know its true.

Cheerleaders would also be amazed at how much young children watch them, imitate them, and want to be like them. Service could be small thing like picking up trash in the stands after a game, being quiet in the team bus, letting players get on and off the bus before you, or big things, like donating lots of time or money to some charity, church or community activities.
Either way, you can have a lot more influence by helping others than by ordering people around. If you take the focus off yourself and focus on helping others. You’ll be surprised and how good you feel, and how important you become. Perhaps, most importantly, you’ll have a lot less conflict with others if you’re not always trying to get your own way.

Standing in front of hundreds of people, jumping, shouting, and chanting aren’t things that come easy. Leading a pep-rally, speaking your opinion, standing up for what’s right, making new friends, engaging a stranger in conversation, holding up under peer-pressure, saying no, knowing that you have strengths and abilities to handle any situation- these are all things that you can develop by being a cheerleader. Trust in others and trust in yourself. What could Cheering offer that is more valuable than confidence?

Positivity is the next thing that Cheer offers. Think about that old saying “If you’re not part of the solution, then you’re part of the problem.” People who look for the good in any situation and any individual can usually find it. Once found, it can be used to make things better for everybody. Too often, too many of us tend to be critical of one another and ourselves. That kind of negativity is unproductive.

Optimism is more effective, progressive and productive. Certainly life isn’t always easy, cheerleaders don’t have to be in denial about real life, but if you’re going to encourage others, you can’t focus on what’s discouraging.
Like the old saying says; “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade!” Knowing that no matter how bad it gets, you can still get through it, move on, and learn, even gain from the pain- how awesome is that?

Some people think that they could never be cheerleaders, they’re not “perky” enough. Don’t think of it as being saccharine or Pollyanna, think of it as being positive. That’s part of the American character, that’s looking forward instead of feeling sorry for your self or criticizing and blaming the people around you. That’s leadership.

Checking out the competition

How hard could it be? Taking kids on a field trip to the World Herald in Omaha shouldn’t have been much trouble. I only had twelve kids, I’d taken at least that many junior high kids to the L.A. Times two or three times when I taught at L.A. Lutheran.

When I was a kid I enjoyed Teen Gazette meetings every fall at the Arizona Republic/Phoenix Gazette’s editorial offices. It was pretty well empty since we met on Saturdays, but it still had the look and feel of “Lou Grant” or “All The President’s Men.” They held a mock-press conference for us with then Congressman John McCain. Then in the spring they’d have us out to the “R&G Ranch” for our own miniature company picnic. One or two correspondents from each of the major high schools in the Phoenix area eating burnt hot dogs and talking about our plans for each of our schools’ yearbooks or newspapers.

I guess that’s when I caught the journalism bug. I fear that all the kids caught on our recent field trip were colds, maybe a flu or two.
Maybe the Republic and Gazette did take us on an actual tour, but I don’t remember it. The trip to the L.A. times was a blast. They took us inside the presses. Sure we didn’t get to climb all over it or anything, but we were actually inside the thing. It’s huge, it felt like being inside a ship, like the big cargo ships they use to haul iron on Lake Superior.

When they started it up, the ground shook like in an earthquake. Soy ink covered everything, you had to walk carefully to avoid slipping on it. Their editorial offices were bustling with activity on a weekday. Post it notes and clippings and posters hung all over cubicles and up the walls and electrical conduits. Paper was everywhere, it reminded you of foliage, it gave a unique meaning to the idea of an “urban jungle.”

Maybe I have ink in my veins the way circus people have sawdust in theirs, but I enjoyed it as much or more than any of my seventh and eighth grade Journalism students. The tour guide even had to scold me once for getting separated from the group because I was left behind when I was talking to one of the pressmen in the printing plant. Don’t worry, there were parent chaperones along too, I wasn’t completely irresponsible.

The World Herald trip just didn’t turn out quite as well.

Why is it that whenever you want to go on a big trip, you can never seem to leave on time. 10:30 and the substitute hadn’t shown up yet. Four kids were missing. How hard can it be to take 12 kids? One was in the bathroom, one had forgotten about the field trip, “Was that TODAY?” Another didn’t want to go along and almost threw a tantrum in order to be allowed to stay behind. If she’d been smart, she would’ve pretended to be sick and stay home that day altogether- that’s what the fourth missing kid had done. Finally all eleven students and two drivers piled into our vans and were on our way.

Since we had so few kids, the BV Transportation Director wanted us to take two vans instead of one bus. That meant I’d have to drive. I offered the bus driver a map, “I’ll just follow you,” he said. That wasn’t too much of a problem until I stepped on the gas as we passed the Dunlap golf course to head South on Highway 30.

“Say, Mr. Mallory,” one of my high school passengers informed me, “That part-time bus driver in the other van, is also a part time cop.”

Suddenly I reduce my speed from the 60 mph I prefer, down to the more prudent 55.

When we arrived in Omaha I noticed something. The only parking in front of the World Herald are meters. The last thing I had considered was bringing enough change for parking meters.

Now, in Los Angeles I took my classes down to historic Olivera Street to get some authentic Mexican food for lunch. That’s the site of the original pueblo and home of a charming open-air market. We had talked about taking this group to the Old Market, but it’s several blocks away and between our late start and our conservative speeds, I thought we were way behind. So we circled around a few blocks until someone shouted “There’s a Subway!”

Problem. No free parking. A parking lot, our clumsy, hulking vans barely duck under the 6 foot clearance, the only spots left inside are compact. Somehow we manage to squeeze in. “I hope you have some business in this building” barked the attendant. I talked him into letting us park just for the hour. In fact, he only charged us for one van in the end. I wish he’d made that offer in the beginning. I only had $6 in my wallet, I had a vegetarian sandwich with no chips or drink, just so I’d have the $3 I’d need to pay for parking.

As we pulled out, he told me that the Herald had it’s own parking garage. That was a relief. The L.A. Times validated our parking so that it was free. I hoped against hope that the Herald would be as generous. We circled the block twice. Finally I pulled into the Herald’s garage, only to be stopped by the guard arm. There was no guard house, no attendant, and no speaker. Just a sensor for reading employee’s parking passes. We were stuck and a car lined up behind our two vans. Finally I motioned that we should back up, on a one-way street, I felt like a bumpkin.

We circled two more times till I tried the parking garage across from the Herald. Same problem. This time there was a guard house, but no attendant. It looked like it was still under construction. This time there was a button to press for assistance on a speaker. I pressed it several times but got no answer. I could feel my blood pressure rising as kids began to chuckle either at our predicament or perhaps at my incompetence. I grabbed my cell phone and the flyers from the Herald’s P.R. department and dialed our tour guide.

“We’re having trouble finding a place to park,” I told her, as the driver in the car behind our two vans this time gestured and cussed at us.

“Where are you?” she asked, oh good, I thought, she’ll send someone who’ll let us in or something.

“Uh, at the parking garage across the street,” I told her.

“There’s plenty of metered parking.” She offered.

“We’re just supposed to park by a meter?”

“That’s what most people do.”

Perturbed, I motion to back up again and we both made u-turns and pulled aside parking meters. I frantically searched my pockets for what little change I did have. Fortunately two students also volunteered to feed the meters.

I have to say that the World Herald’s lobby is immaculate and very informative. It’s a first-rate museum display. But it’s really just their lobby. Our tour took us past the presses. They’re impressive too. Three towers, thee-stories each, with six presses making up each tower. The presses can run the 700,000 or more copies a day at anywhere from 35-60 miles per hour. But we walked past it on a balcony, we didn’t actually get very close to it.

Of course, I was probably just in a lousy mood from fighting downtown traffic and failing to find decent parking, but it seemed like a fairly short, dull tour. The tour guide was pretty new, just out of college. She didn’t offer much history, much detail, or any exciting anecdotes. I had made a point of asking that she include the editorial offices on the tour, not just the presses. They were immaculate too. Almost too tidy, too clean and organized to have any flavor. They were almost dead too since the afternoon edition had been completed, it would be hours before it saw any real action.

Of course, high school kids are worlds apart from junior high kids too.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Dead silence.

“Okay, I guess we should just get back to school in time for seventh hour.”

“Howmuchdiditcost? Howlongdidittaketobuild?Hasanyoneevergottenhurtononeofthosedohickys?”

Then there was the ride home. Kids were already laughing nostalgically about my inept driving and parking. This time the bus driver took the lead and darned if he wasn’t going 75 on I-29 where the limit’s 65 so that he lost me. My passengers wanted to stop at Arby’s in Missouri Valley to get some kind of iced coffee drinks. I was disappointed to be out of money myself at that point, but I stopped.

And this was ALMOST the crowning moment. After collecting all of their money and placing their order at the speaker, instead of driving forward to the first window, I leaned out my window and offered the money to the speaker.

What really topped it off was when I finally got home that evening and realized that I’d been walking around all day with a hole in the crotch of my pants.

Maybe next year I’ll take them on a field trip to the Dunlap Reporter instead. That way we can just walk.

Accident site outside Dunlap, Iowa, popular for hills
This is a link to the Omaha World Herald Story about Kirk Sturgill

Here's another poem by a student

You walk down the hallway
By Aaron Riester

You walk down the hallway
And hear the people cry
You see the sadness everywhere
As tears fall from each eye
To lose one that was loved
To have to let him go
Strikes such feelings and emotions
That one should never have to know
And you want nothing more
Than to have him back with you
You’d rather swim in memories
Than face what’s really true
Wounds will eventually heal
Though a scar may still remain
Remember that where he is now
He can feel no pain
So let his memories bring you joy
Let the stories raise a laugh
Because forever will we think about
The good times that were had

I was a teenage werewolf

"How did you ever end up coaching Cheerleading?"

Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that one. Speaking as a Journalism teacher, if I wasn’t the male Cheer Coach, I’d probably encourage my students to interview him. I’d think there’s a story there, it certainly is a novelty.

When I attended the Iowa Cheer Coaches Association conference in Ames a couple of years ago, I was one of only two male coaches, and the other guy was coach at a junior college.

There has really only been one time, to my knowledge, that someone gave me a hard time about it. It was in L.A. An Athletic Director at another Christian school approached me, assuming I was one of the football coaches, to let me know something about that days game. When I explained to him that I wasn’t the football coach, I was the cheer coach, he laughed and made a homophobic joke and sympathetically asked me how I "got stuck" with cheerleading.

When I told him that I didn’t feel like I had been "stuck" with it and that I actually enjoyed it, he didn’t quite know what to do with me. He awkwardly back-stepped out of the conversation and made his way to the "real" coaches.

"So, how did you come to coach something like cheerleading?" I hear you ask. Alright, I’ll tell you.

I wasn’t ever particularly good at sports as a kid. Freshman year of college, I happened to be in the student union when some of the girls on the cheer squad came looking for guys to be "yell leaders." There were only four of them and they needed more to help them build pyramids.

I was full of school spirit and figured it was a great way to meet girls, so "what the heck." That was just one season, freshman year. My wife Bethany, on the other hand, didn’t cheer in college, but she did for years in high school.

The first year that we taught at Los Angeles Lutheran Jr/Sr High School, Bethany was expected to coach both junior high and varsity cheer. It didn’t take long for us to see that it was unreasonable to expect a rookie teacher to be expected to coach two sports simultaneously. When we approached our principal with the dilemma, he was more resourceful than we had anticipated. He had remembered from my file that I had cheered in college.

At first I was very reluctant, but we reasoned that Bethany and her high school cheerleaders could help me train my junior high cheerleaders. Besides we welcomed the additional stipend, meager as it was.

I have to tell you, if teaching is both one of the most difficult and yet most rewarding professions, coaching is even more so. You can’t get to know a student very well once a day during a fifty minute period alongside twenty or more other students, you can get to know them fairly well when you have just six or eight of them for a couple hours every single day. My hope and prayer is that by coaching, I can make a greater difference in the lives of a few young people.

I coached junior high cheer for about five years. After two or three, Bethany got out of coaching and took on other responsibilities as L. A. Lutheran’s Spiritual Life Director. No doubt, a step toward becoming a counselor, like she is today. During that time they went through several different Varsity coaches. I’d like to think that for a while, some of my junior high squads performed better than their high school counterparts. Eventually, they asked me if I would take over the varsity squad and assigned the junior high to a new rookie teacher.

I coached two more years in LA and I considered it a ministry, not just an after school activity. We prayed before and after games and once a week we had a meeting/Bible study kind of the way I imagine a Fellowship of Christian Athletes "huddle" might have at a public school. I wanted to be a "coach," and not merely a "sponsor," so I made every effort to work hard every practice and improve as much as we could. Our squads attended camps and attended workshops and combed through magazines and videos for ideas.

I’m honored to say that the cheer coach at Lutheran High in L. A. today cheered for me as a junior high student and for both Bethany and I as a high school student. It’s a kick to exchange email with her about what our squads are doing.

This is my third year coaching cheer at Boyer Valley and my ninth year coaching altogether. There are ups and downs, and anytime you’re dealing with teenagers, let alone teenage girls there are days when you feel like you’re going crazy. But it’s still a lot of fun, and as rewarding as ever. I may not be the best coach that’s ever been around the sport, and my squads may never get on ESPN, but I like what I do.

School spirit is important. Supporting the other teams, coaches, and athletes at our schools is important, and I’d like to think that being a positive adult male influence for young women is too.