Two Minute Warning

First Day on the Field

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The roar of the crowd rumbled like distant thunder, the kind that sends a thrill through your veins. For as long as I could remember, that sound was like a dream on the edge of reality. But today, it was real. Today, I wasn't watching from the stands or watching from home. Today, I was part of it.

I tugged at my orange and black uniform, my fingers trembling slightly as I adjusted the hem. The bright lights of Paycor Stadium shone overheard, and I could already hear the faint hum of excitement as fans poured in. My first day as a Cincinnati Ben Gal and I felt like I might burst out of my skin.

"You ready for this?" A voice cut through my whirlwind of thoughts.

I turned to see Harlow, one of the veterans, flashing me a reassuring smile. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, her confidence as sharp as the sparkle in her eye. She looked like she had done this a thousand times, and honestly, she probably had. But me? This was my first time stepping onto the field as part of the team.

"I think so," I replied, half-laughing, trying to swallow down the nerves.

Harlow gave me a friendly nudge. "Don't worry. First day jitters are normal. You will get used to the rush. Just remember to breathe and don't forget to smile. The cameras love that."

I nodded, my heart pounding like a drumline. The cameras. The lights. The fans. And more importantly....Joe Burrow.

I hadn't exactly told anyone this part, but part of the reason I had auditioned to become a cheerleader was because of him. I mean, he was the guy every Bengals fan admired, cool under pressure, wickedly talented, and well.....not bad to look at either. It wasn't just a silly crush though. There was something about the way he led the team, how he seemed to always know what to do, even in the tensest moment, that drew me in.

"Alright, ladies, let's go!" Coach Harper's voice broke through the chatter of the locker room, commanding yet encouraging. She was everything you'd expect from a former cheer captain tough, but fair. And she had an eye for spotting potential, which was how I had made it this far.

I followed the rest of the squad as we made our way down the tunnel. The sound of the crowd grew louder with each step, a wall of energy waiting to meet us. My stomach flipped as we approached the field.

This is it. My moment.

The tunnel opened up, and suddenly, I was on the field. The air was electric, the sky above a perfect canvas of bright blue and white clouds. The stands were filling fast, splashes of orange and black everywhere, like a sea of Bengals pride.

"Focus," I whispered to myself, forcing my feet to move, trying to shake the sudden wave of nerves.

As we lined up for the pre-game routine, I caught a glimpse of the players warming up on the other side of the field. I scanned the sea of helmets, my eyes searching for one in particular. There he was number 9, Joe Burrow, tossing the ball casually with that signature coolness. My breath caught in my throat.

"Eyes on the routine, girl." Harlow whispered from beside me, a teasing grin on her face. "You will have plenty of time to swoon later."

I blushed, but it wasn't like she was wrong. I snapped my focus back to the task at hand, trying to remember every move we had practiced. The routine wasn't long, but it had to be perfect. First impressions mattered, especially when half the city was watching.

Coach Harper's whistle blew, and the music kicked in. My body moved on autopilot, following the rhythm, executing the steps we had drilled into our muscles over the last few weeks. For a few seconds, the noise and the pressure melted away, and I let myself get lost in the moment. This was why I wanted this job. The thrill, the rush of adrenaline, the chance to be part of something bigger.

The routine ended in a perfect formation, and the crowd erupted in cheers. We held our poses, smiling brightly, waiting for Coach's signal to break. I felt a small surge of pride. I had made it through my first performance without messing up.

As we walked off the field, my heart still racing from the excitement, I couldn't resist one last glance toward the players. Joe was jogging off the field, helmet in hand. For a second, his eyes met mine, and I swore he smiled.

Or maybe that was just the adrenaline playing tricks on me.

"Nice work out there, rookie," Harlow said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Thanks," I said, still a little dazed. "I can't believe that just happened."

"Believe it," She replied, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "It only gets crazier from here."

And as I looked around at the stadium, the fans, the players, everything I had dreamed about for so long. I knew she was right.