I crossed my fingers with one minute left, and I didn’t uncross them until I was jumping up and down, aggressively hugging my teammates with glistening eyes that were looking at the excitement ahead. 

About three football games ago, my dad was telling me about how in 1994 at FHC— when he was a senior in high school— he and my mom got to go to Ford Field and watch the football team at the state playoffs. 

Ever since that moment, my mind was entranced with the idea of cheering at Ford Field. Before my season started, I honestly wasn’t sure what would happen after beating all the other teams, because it hadn’t happened in my lifetime yet. 

However, the further and further the football team went in the playoffs, it became very clear what the final goal was: states. 

As a cheerleader, I haven’t missed a single football game in four years. Whether I was sick or supposed to have other plans, cheering always seemed more important, however this last Saturday, I was dragging myself out of bed, complaining the entire ride there and really dreading it. 

If you had told me at the beginning of the season I would be cheering in snow pants, I wouldn’t have believed it. But as luck would have it, not only was I wearing snow pants, but I was also wearing a puffer coat, winter hat, mittens, and snow boots in an attempt to keep the blizzarding storm at bay. 

I didn’t even come close to resembling a cheerleader, but there I was. Poms in hand, slipping and sliding on the icy track as I tried to chant out, “FHC if you want to win tonight”—along with a slew of other cheers. 

We were one touchdown behind the entire game. A lot of girls on the team had doubts about the outcome of the game, and rightfully so, considering we had been hearing for weeks about how we were going to get demolished this game. However, with the score being 7-0 down to the very last second, it was clear the team held their ground. 

My friend looked at me with four minutes left on the clock and said something along the lines of, “I don’t see how we could possibly win now, ” and I remember looking at her—doubt plastered across my face—and saying, “you would be surprised.” 

And we certainly were. I uncrossed my fingers and felt as pure shock washed over my body, I turned to my teammates to confirm what I just heard. We won. I get to end my six years of cheering at Ford Field. 

I am incredibly proud of the dedication, time, and energy I have put into my sport, and ending my cheerleading career getting crushed in the last round of playoffs was not something I was looking forward to, but now, I could not have asked for a better ending to this chapter of my life.