A few years ago, my sisters (now ex) boyfriend was one of the guys who served as "judge" for the Buccaneers cheerleader tryout. There was nothing about him that said he should get such an assignment. Worked at Raymond James financial, ordinary guy all-around. Think he knew somebody in the organization and dumb-lucked his way into it. Said it was without a doubt the greatest day of his life. Nothing but unbelievably hot chicks in their underwear dancing around and trying to get him to like them enough to give them a high score.
lol, that's good stuff.When I worked for FSN they would always stuff us in this waiting area in the Palace and the Pistonettes or whatever they were called were always back there. They would be stretching, throwing their pom poms around and generally being great whores. After the Malice at the Palace I was there for every game for like a month, and actually ended up getting to know a few of them after work. They made $75 a game, and weren't allowed to talk or associate with the players at all. Preggo cheerleaders=bad business model. At least the NFL cheerleaders get calendars, Pistonettes get to be in the background of Anderson window commercials.