"It's my parents' anniversary. I'm flying back home to Indiana for the weekend.”That was my excuse for getting out of the upcoming road trip: USC @ Oregon State. Football season, 1981. The yell leaders were at practice, getting a secondhand reprimand from our yell captain because our yell coach was upset.
None of the yell leaders had stepped up to fill the vacant slot for the road rip. For some reason, no one was eager to travel to an easy win at a win-challenged school in a remote location (where just two yell leaders--the captain and the chosen one—would cheer in a hostile environment with no band, little fan support and perhaps most importantly, no song girls).
"So that explains all that hostility, that resentment."
Longtime USC Yell Coach Lindley Bothwell thought the lack of volunteers showed a lack of commitment and had let it be known: somebody had better man up or else.
“What about you, Boyd?” asked the other yell leaders after they themselves had excused their 
way out of the trip. I was the last option because two weeks earlier, I had been “chosen” to cheer at the USC @ Indiana game (same two-man deal).
I had been “chosen” for the Indiana road trip because I was from Indianapolis and cheering for USC at ole IU was like my very own personal homecoming. We stayed at the Indianapolis Hyatt and ate at my mom's house. At the game, IU's student section was full of kids who had been my classmates two years earlier at Indianapolis North Central High School.
A good chunk of my 1980 graduating class (circa 1,000 students) had 
gone to IU for college. In 1981, a good chunk of them saw me cheering at the USC vs. Indiana football game in Bloomington, Indiana.
Perhaps it was those festive mini-reunions with my former classmates that fostered such good spirits between the Hoosier cheering section and the two USC yell leaders. At one point, the females in the IU band's flag corps kidnapped us both and carried us to the student section.
"The same guys who constantly made 'black' jokes surprised me by standing up for me."
SC won the game 21-0 and the road trip was one of my all-time college cheerleading highlights, which was exactly why I now was the last candidate for the vacant spot on the Oregon State trip. I had already gotten mine.
Moreover, I had only “gotten mine” because some of the other yell leaders had lobbied for me to 
go on the Indiana road trip, seeing as how it was my homecoming. To my astonishment, the same guys who constantly made “black” jokes surprised me by standing up for me. If only I had remembered that before telling a big white lie.
“What about you, Boyd?” asked the other yell leaders, desperate for somebody to volunteer for the Oregon State trip.
“It's my parents' anniversary,” I said hastily. “I'm flying back home for the weekend. Sorry, already have the reservations, been planning it for weeks.”
In truth, there was no anniversary. My parents split up 
around junior high. I lied because I was tired and needed the rest, not another road trip.
Eventually, another yell leader caved in, went on the trip and saved all our asses, allowing us to finish out the football season as unfired SC yell leaders. The Trojans went 9-2 in the regular season, highlighted by Marcus Allen's Heisman Trophy and John Mazer's great comeback win in the Oklahoma @ SC game.
A late season loss at Washington dashed SC's Rose Bowl hopes, then the Trojans' George Achica block UCLA's last-second field goal attempt and knocked the Bruins out of the Rose Bowl. New Year's Day, the Trojans lost to defending national champs Penn State in the Fiesta Bowl, where I was USC yell leader with a love hangover.
Some time later, after my SC yell career was over, I learned that some of the squad had been 
angry with me for going on the Indiana road trip with the full knowledge that I was returning to Indianapolis a few weeks later for my parents' anniversary.
Upon further reveal, my lie had sealed my fate, unbeknownst to me.
So that explains all that hostility, that resentment, that distance, thought my newly-informed self, reflecting on a year's worth of ill-will.
My fellow yell leaders thought they had stood up for me for no reason, since I was apparently a rich kid who could jet back to Indiana at will. In reality, we were anything but rich. But I lied, not even realizing how much I had poisoned my world.
By the time I found out, it was too late. The school year was over. My next stop was UCLA. If only I had been honest, my USC yell leading experience might have turned out quite differently.
If only I had remembered that before telling a big white lie.
