Hoover says the band and the squad have since made peace. She asked the band for a record of their songs, so they can do a routine to 10,000 Men of Harvard at the Dartmouth game. And at the last game, the band cheered the cheerleaders' performance.

The spectators are not exactly supportive, however, although the cheerleaders attribute their reluctance to follow along with the cheers to lack of practice, not hostility. Janus says, "The first home game crowd didn't know quite what to make of it. You know, the pom-poms and all."

The alumni need to loosen up, Janus says, and she's counting on the cheerleaders to get them going. Janus is a shouter at games. One Saturday afternoon she let out a particularly lusty bellow and a distinguished crusty alumni next to her glared. "Madam," he corrected, "It's not appropriate to shout."

Not all the alumni find rooting so reprehensible. Some of the middle-aged graduates always greet Coutu after a game with a pat on the back. "They tell us how sweet we look," she says. She expects once they accept the cheerleaders' presence, the spectators will start cheering with them. Football player Pendergast hopes so too, for the cheerleaders sake. Right now, "the people in the stands do more laughing at them than cheering. Or at least that's what I hear on the bench." Pendergast believes the crowd's attitude bodes ill for the squad's future. "If they don't get support, I don't know how long they will last, he adds with regret.

And the football players will regret it if the squad breaks up. Pendergast says he "really appreciates having them down there." Jim Cesare, a retired football player, says, "I like it." Why? Because it shows "the schools finally understands that football is an important part of the school."

Hoover recalls the first cheerleader squad-football team encounter. "We were practicing before the UMass game down at the field, and they didn't know who we were. They asked us what we were doing and we told them we were going to be their cheerleaders. They got all excited. They said, 'yeah, all right.'"

At games though, the team is less demonstrative. Hoover says they smile and clap, but don't usually say anything to the cheerleaders. Coutu suspects it is because "they are all wrapped up in the game." But their oblivion doesn't distress her. She knows that the team is inwardly grateful. "the general reaction is like, 'wow, they really care about us.'"

The cheerleaders get few opportunities to "mingle with the football crowd," as one cheerleader put it. Coutu doubts this will change even on an away game weekend. "I'm sure when we go away, we'll be pretty much segregated. They want the guys to keep their minds on the game." She doesn't feel deprived. "I'm not there to meet the football team, I could go to guts to do that." Even after the games, the men remain elusive. "After the game they just rush into the locker room and change," Butler says.

Some Harvard students, band members in particular, have asked Powell if she feels "high-schoolish." Powell vigorously defends the squad against charges of immaturity: "Look at all the other big-name colleges. They all have cheerleaders." Similarly, they scoff at accusations that they are perpetuating the sexist stereotype of a submissive, giggly teenager. Butler insists cheerleading is a sport, like football. "We aren't just jumping up and down; your feet have to be pointing exactly one way, your hands have to be in a special position." If it looks childishly simple, Butler says, that is just "part of our job; to make it look easy. And smile."

Pendergast backs her up. "I know it's not in the typical Cliffie tradition," he says, "But I don't think it degrades Harvard women."

Others are less convinced. Susan H. Goldstein '80, president of the Radcliffe Union of Students, thinks the creation of a Harvard cheerleading squad is "almost embarrassing." When Goldstein went to Harvard football games freshman year, she remembers, "people would always make fun of the other team's cheerleaders. We felt elite, because we didn't stoop to that."

Nancy J. Krieger '80, founder of the Women's Clearinghouse, is "surprised and also not surprised" by the squad's appearance. She suspects the cheerleaders are reacting against the expanding presence of feminism at Harvard. Women's issues are no longer the sole concern of a "feminist clique," she believes and some people, threatened by more widespread acceptance of feminism, "are in retreat." She adds, "Having women go back to cheerleading will not bring back the good old days."

But close your eyes at the Dartmouth game this weekend, listen for the cheers, and you'll swear you're back at good ol' Central High, U.S.A. Now, if only the band would march in straight lines...