How does a job with a demanding schedule, strict rules and, oh yes, no pay sound?
By EMILY NIPPS
Published October 7, 2003
TAMPA - Shortly before 9 p.m., the women gathered in a circle outside their locker room.
Coordinator Sandy Charboneau gave them a pep talk. She was sorry for being so negative during rehearsal, but she just wanted the women to be the best they could possibly be. Some nodded and understood.
Then they all bowed their heads. "...Lord, allow us to remember what we're out there to do, Lord," cheerleader Dawny Foster prayed. "And that's to be Tampa Bay Buccaneers Cheerleaders, Lord."
It was Monday Night Football and the world was watching, but the cheerleaders were too busy to be nervous. Minutes earlier, they were pulling curlers out of their hair, pasting on false eyelashes and borrowing each other's body glitter.
They were squeezed in a locker room much smaller than the one the players use , but there was no shortage of mirrors. The 32 women spent the last two hours before showtime on their appearance. While one sat on the floor and painted her eyelids, another stood over her, adjusted her cleavage and then shimmied to make sure everything was in place.
Lined up and smiling with their freshly painted faces, they marched out of Tunnel B.
They grinned and waved their pompoms at excited, beer-wielding fans, who yelled "Ladies!," "Wooooo!" and the like. But the cheerleaders probably couldn't hear them and definitely couldn't see them. When they're performing, the audience becomes a blur.
They did their pregame show, then lined up to greet the Bucs as they came out of the tunnel.
It was the closest they'll ever get to the players. Bucs cheerleaders may not, under any circumstances, have contact with the players. Romantic contact is the worst offense.
And that's fine with them. Most of them don't have time. Only two cheerleaders are married, and the ones who aren't are lucky if they can make time for a quick lunch date.
"It's not a good time to get into a new relationship," said 28-year-old Tammy Denbo, and she should know. In between doing her hair and shaking her hips, she works as a lawyer.
The married ones, like 26-year-old financial analyst Kimberly Giacinto, must have supportive husbands. "Put it this way," she said. "The only time I spend at home is the 30 minutes I take getting ready in the morning and the 30 minutes before I go to bed at night. I live out of my car."
To the Bucs cheerleaders, it's a small sacrifice, especially for women like Lauren Rudolph, who has dreamed of being one since she was a Little Miss Swashbuckler as a little girl. Rudolph, 18, was elated when she made the team but cried when she learned her hair was all wrong.
"They know from the first interview (at tryouts) that they might have to change their look," Charboneau said. "And we don't make them do anything they don't like. You want them to be happy. Most of the time, when they get a makeover, they love it."
Looks, of course, are crucial to being a Bucs cheerleader. Every fan likes a different look - be it long hair, short hair, curly hair, blue-eyed or African-American - and the cheerleaders try to reflect that.
You won't see two platinum blondes next to each other on the field. Each corner of the field gets an even mix of blondes and brunettes.
At halftime, the cheerleaders threw on Bucs jerseys with names and numbers of players ("We have 32 girls, so we had to dip into the second string," Charboneau said). They danced a routine, complete with a huddle, a pass by "B. Johnson" and a Beyonce bunny-hop dance by "Sapp."
It was a routine they rehearsed for hours. This was in addition to the hours spent visiting sick children this year and the three weeks they spent in the Middle East visiting U.S. troops.
And here's the clincher: They make no money. They get two tickets per game, but no other compensation, not even for posing on calendars.
So why do it? Why give up dates and change your hair and live out of your car just to cheer on a bunch of guys you're not allowed to talk to?
"Because if I show up at a nursing home or visit children dressed up as a lawyer, it's not really special to them," Denbo said. "But if I come as a lawyer dressed up as a Bucs cheerleader, it means something. I have a much bigger impact dressed in this outfit."
