Saved from the Golden Sperm

in 8th grade i tried out for the Cupertino High School Drill Team. it was both the most traumatic and most fortuitous experience of my high school career. this is my tale...

as a marginally cool, largely ignorant 8th grader, my knowledge of the Golden Spurs consisted of the following:

1. they were the high school dance team
2. my best friend's older sister was one (she was cool)
3. they mostly looked alike - size 0-4, pony tail, make-up, BIG smile, knowing look...

WHAT then would posses me to try and become a Spur? what switch flipped in my brain that i made this mad leap down the rabbit hole? in my little 8th grade mind it was simple really. i had danced off and on since i was a kid and i wanted a high school identity (basically, a gang that would have my back.) plus, i even had the pony tail. what could be more natural?

reality. what could be less natural? i was around a size 10, was painfully self-conscious, and couldn't do the splits.

SO, tryouts.

show up to the Wagon Wheel. like it's not terrifying enough just being on campus at THE HIGH SCHOOL, i'm surrounded by midrif bearing elf girls, chirping, giggling, and the lot. really, i believe they were speaking another language. well, we proceed to learn THE ROUTINE. it's a predictably lame jazz-type-stripper-infused number. to 8th grade jenni's mind this translates as, "this is AWESOME. i will master this AWESOMENESS." i roll, i slide, i leap, i fall, i spin, i wag my ass, i even flip.

one week later it's audition day. i've been trying for 7 days to convince my anatomy that my legs ARE supposed to split 180 degrees apart. legs not having it. i have also been trying to convince my face to SMIIIIILE! while failing to execute said splits. i think it came out more like a lunatic grimace. people, i gave it my all (of course, telling myself the whole time i didn't really care if i made the team.)

moment of truth. the next day the list is posted. failure. rejection. tears. my BF's big sis consoles me. we all decide it's for the best. after all, i am going to be a swimmer, so who has time for drill? ...

immediate payoff? in the course of my spastically enthusiastic audition, i injure my hip. then, right after the auditions, we take our 8th grade trip to yosemite for science camp. i hike daily, sometimes up to 8 miles, all on my injured hip. the injury becomes chronic! my doctor forbids me from P.E. for THE REST OF THE YEAR! let's just say, P.E. was not my favorite class. this was a major coup. instead of running, failing at pull-ups, and being forced to play volleyball/basketball (2 sports i consider to be vile torture,) i got to hang out with the guidance couselor. she just so happened to be the mom of the HOTTEST boy in school. so, said hot boy came around often - hello eye candy!

people, this was the gift that kept on giving. i get out of almost all running my freshman year as well. i milk this injury for all it's worth! by the time i'm a sophomore, i find myself somehow magically transformed from Presidential Physical Fitness Reject to High School Aquatic Athlete. this means, no P.E at all while in season, major favoritism while out of season.

i proceed with four years of swimming and water polo, in which time i learn:

1. the Golden Spurs are often treated to the lovely moniker "Golden Sperm"
2. they all wear matching socks, which freaks my friends on the team out, yet they feel they too must wear the socks
3. the have that knowing look for a reason. they KNOW. example - they make out with each other to impress drunk boys
4. they don't win

meanwhile, i definitely found my gang. and let me tell you, i'll take a pack of water polo players at my back over 90lb dancers any day. not that i'm knockin' the Sperms. i had friends who were spermies. i just felt bad for them. heh.