If ever I were to get someone accidentally pregnant, and she decided to keep the baby, and I decided to live with or nearby the thing, then my biggest fear as a parent would be that I somehow fail to properly instill the child with enough Longhorn Love such that I’d have to watch in horror as the little bugger decided to become an Aggie — or worse, a Sooner. [Or worse, some kind of Ivy League elitist bastard, what with their Skulls and Bones and hoity-toity grade inflation.]
It can be difficult to convince someone, even your own teenager, of just what made your college so compelling to you academically (and how much awesomer your keggers were than anyone else’s). Fortunately, you won’t have to. With the Team Baby DVDs from Team Baby Entertainment — recently acquired by Michael Eisner, btw — you can teach your kid that alma mater fight song before what’s-its-name even learns to read!
And they have them for all kinds of schools:
Crocodile Hunter ain’t got s*** on me now!!
Since Regis Philbin picked it as one of his gifts of the year, I decided to watch a clip of the Baby Irish DVD. Apparently, the band members and their funny unis make it into the mix at some point, but you’ll be happy to know this sample consists almost exclusively of football clips interspersed with toddlers running around in Notre Dame cheerleading gear, because it’s never to early to remind children that they better become jocks if they’re boys or cheerleaders if they’re girls if they want to be happy.
Speaking of, if you really want your kid to become a cheerleader, that seems much harder to force than jockdom, due almost exclusively to the numbers. Jocks? Well, between football, basketball, baseball, soccer, and even your crappier, drunk-parents-not-in-attendance sports like track and swimming, there are lots of available roster slots. For cheerleaders, what is it, like 7? And it isn’t as though the dance (aka runner-up) team gets almost the same cred. No, I think the safest thing to do is raise a boy. I’m glad we decided this together.
So, yeah. Go out and blow $20 on stock footage from university faults and clips of giddy costumed toddlers filmed on a whitescreen by whatever blind cameraman Goldstein uses for his citizen journalist wankfests. Just know that if you buy anything but the Longhorn DVD we’ll never speak again.
Hook ‘em!
I am mortally wounded. There is no Baby Jayhawk DVD. How am I to inculcate the Rock Chalk Chant into a faux fetus without this product? That’s it, I’m scheduling an abortion right now!
(Of course, I’m sure the lack of KU products has something to do with the lack of money thrown at Allen Field House.)
And why the hell would I even need a crappy $20 DVD when I can pay $35 to lug my baby to an actual football game?
The state of Florida is trademarked?
I guess that explains a lot.
“Sweetie, what does a doggy say?”
“Ruff!”
“Right! And what does a cow say?”
“Mooooo!”
“Right! And what does a Panther say?”
“TUDDOWN!”
As the Good Book says, raise a child up in the way that he should go, and when he is old he will not stray from it.
At my high school, one of the dance teams got the most cred. They were called the Redwings, and they were a high school version of the Rockettes. There wasn’t much actual dancing involved — their signature move was standing in one big line and doing high kicks. They wore fishnet stockings, white knee-high boots, and little red & white fringey leotards. To be chosen for the “team,” you had to be tall, skinny (duh), have long hair, and be smoking hot (by traditional high school standards). Actual dance skills were secondary to the physical attributes, because their routines required only minimal athleticism or coordination. If you could count to eight, that was probably good enough.
The cheerleaders were next in line in the female social heirarchy, and they were actually quite athletic, in contrast to the Redwings, who basically just stood there and looked pretty. Further down the social ladder was another dance team (who probably aspired to be Redwings or cheerleaders but couldn’t make it), the name of which escapes me.
This is a long comment about something that was fairly tangential to your post, but I’m curious if anyone else out there had a similar kind of Rockette-type dance team at their high school, because I always thought it was pretty weird.