Seeing those red, black and white colors pass through the sign every Friday night led by the cheerleaders running with the flags was thrilling. I despised getting the last letter when I was a freshman because if the people in front of you ran slowly you could get trampled by a breakaway full of 80 horses. I was cheering on the pitch, I felt like I was a different person. It was like living a double life. The cheering made my voice heard. Making those different claps it seemed like every movement, every word and every smile counted. It helped the public. He helped the kids. It's the cheerleading squad. It helped