I felt sorry for the couple of hundred cheerleader chicks that lined the inside track during the two hour march pass who had to maintain a cheery non-stop boot-scoot with fixed smiles. They probably had some 90 year old choreographer yelling at them for the past six years telling them they are lucky little bitches that have it too good and that they do not know the meaning of sore feet until they have marched several thousand miles across mountains hotly pursued by raping and pillaging Nationalist forces.