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HERKIMER TELLS HOW TO MAKE 'EM HOLLER
Rex Lardner
November 27, 1961
Cavorting and mugging, the world's top cheerleading authority (right) conducts clinics for pretty apprentices
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November 27, 1961

Herkimer Tells How To Make 'em Holler

Cavorting and mugging, the world's top cheerleading authority (right) conducts clinics for pretty apprentices

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Leaping, arching, running stiff-legged, kicking in unison, kneeling and pivoting, swinging their arms, doing splits, their faces aglow, the apprentices performed in individual groups and again the gym was filled with sound. "Ready, gang—hit it! We're gonna fight with all our might! We're gonna win this game tonight!" "Hey, gang, let's yell! We got a team, we got a skipper! We got a team that works like a zipper! SMOOOOOTH!" "All set, you bet! Horn and hoof, horn and hoof, stomp the floor and raise the roof! Razzle, dazzle, zizzle, zip! Come on, boys, let'er rip!" "Ready-o, let's go! Clap your hands [CLAP, CLAP]; stomp your feet [STOMP, STOMP]!" One group of five ended their cheer with a debonair Yeah! bringing down their palms in a stiff-arm sweeping motion that looked very cool indeed. They got a big hand.

When this was over Herkimer gave a sample of a type of cheer he didn't approve of. "Poke 'em in the eye, sock 'em in the jaw, take their secretary, raw, raw, raw!" The girls were ecstatic.

At last Herkimer announced he was going to teach the girls a brand-new cheer and called down a representative from each school to help. They swarmed down onto the floor, many with letters on their sweaters, some with megaphones as well. Despite their unmatching appearance, all wore the same fresh-faced zeal on their faces. Herkimer soon had them doing a clock cheer. "Hey, gang, what time is it?" They snapped their fingers like a clock ticking, moving their arms like the hands of a clock. Time for a bas-ket, bas-ket, bas-ket! We want a bas-ket! Six points! "A basket is two points," Herkimer explained patiently. He took a deep breath. "Now let's do it again." He raised his right hand for their attention. "Hey, gang, what time is it?"

And so it went, on and on, until even Ridgely-Dulaney's roaring lion became weary. Casually removing his head and placing it on the stool where he had sat, the lion—now a tired young high schooler—announced: "I'm going bowling."

Blue, brown, knock 'em all down! volleyed and thundered a against the walls of the busy gymnasium.

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