This is from the Fan Posts, not my work, but truly something that Iceman worked long and hard on. It had me in tears. For that, I show it to all of you. Enjoy -- Ridiculous Scott
Jam Dancers: Angels among men, femininity perfected, mushroom-topping..uhhhh in spandex shorts?
Yesterday the Bakersfield Jam mascot, Swish, stopped by to share with RU his final, glorious performance. In a sad, yet celebratory five youtube minutes, Swish managed to Stanky Legg his way into our hearts forever. And may his efforts never be forgotten.
After much consideration, I realized I could not allow the efforts of the Jam Dancers to go unrecognized as well. Between the booty shakes, leg twists, and near-stripper-esque twirls, the Jam Dancers have kept
thousands hundreds of people entertained when the snack bar couldn't.
The Bakersfield Jam website has recently been asking WHO WILL BE THE BIGGEST LOSER? Well I have the answer: Humanity. With the Jam Dancers out on the street doing the Soulja Boi for nickels, all of mankind cannot help but cringe at the loss of morale this disaster will create. Thus it is only right that we celebrate their many, many victories over boredom....
Take this little ditty for example:
She got a Donk indeed - it brings tears to my eyes. Little girls and boys in that arena had something to aspire to the day of that performance. The bottom line is this: these rag-tag girls will be missed, almost as much as the shenanigans of one Mister Swish.
Hit the jump for a few more remembrances.
Just in case the video above wasn't enough to satisfy your thirst for booty shorts, here is another dance routine straight from a by-gone era of cock teasing that straddles (pun intended) the line between strip dance and cheerleading... Good Ole Fashioned American Style.
Seeing as Jon L has been doing some player analysis, I will do the same for a few of my favorite Bakersfield Jam Dancers.
You were a fiery spark-plug of a gal. Popping and Locking your way into our hearts and minds was the easy part, but saying good bye will forever make me less of a man. May you find future employment someplace where your jazz hands will be appreciated.
You remind me of the goth girl I dated in High School, and yes, that's a good thing Mallory. Your hips moved faster than Will Conroy's fists and smack-talking mouth this year. And that is both something to be proud of and to build on. Keep your chin up kid....
Weight: None of your damn business
Amber E., you're my favorite Amber on this dance team (there are three), not only because of your rainbow display of highlights, but also because you're the bad girl of this dance squad sista! Your country-fried attitude seeps into your dance steps like lead paint into my water supply, making your hip tosses, splits, and booty shakes all that much more vivid and yet surreal.
Every dance team needs an anchor, and you Mia are it. With your Latin flair and Rubenesque form, you glide like melting butter across a skillet, seamlessly floating into my dreams. If Charles Barkley was The Round Mound of Rebound, then you Mia are the Cinderalla of Paella.
In closing, I would like to say that these Jam Dancers were more than just entertainment at a minor league basketball game. They are, in fact, the very essence of America. All of our ills and worries are summed up in a single flexing of the inner thigh. The crows feet drawn from the corner of an old man's eyes are quickly eased by the gyration of young, sort of good looking women in ill-fitting spandex. Isn't that what America is all about? And yet here, at the precipice of doom, these youths will press on, forever etched in our memories as doing just enough dancing to entertain, but not enough to knock out the Futurecast.
Goodbye Jam Dancers, We Barely Knew Ye...
UPDATE: I hope I don't get sued over this...only meant for comedy purposes.