When my son was playing baseball, there were a few less than humorous columns that I wanted to write about coaches and parents and the baseball program. There was always a concern about a conflict of interest or of being accused of trying to sell the program. As a result, I waited until the end of the season.

The same holds true with my daughter's cheerleading program. By the time you read this column we will be at our last event of the year. It may be the last event ever for me. I can assure you that this is not a sales pitch. It's just another (not so funny) column.

The gym that my daughter cheers for is in Simi Valley and is called Cheer Force. I said before that there are many good gyms around here- this is just a story about the one that I'm familiar with.

This gym has several different teams of all ages that compete during the season and they're all pretty good. There is also a parent team made up, surprisingly, of parents. They asked me to join. I volunteered to perform the only gymnastic stunt that I was ever able to do. I can run out, do a sort of summersault, lay on the floor writhing and screaming in pain for several minutes, and finish up curled in a ball while grabbing my knee and gently whimpering like a small child. They graciously declined my offer and have kept a safe distance ever since.

Another team is called the "Special Needs Team" but I don't know why they call it that. These kids are the brightest, most talented, inspiring, hard working, and lovable group I have ever been around. When they perform, all eyes in the house are on them and they put on a show as great as any show you will ever see anywhere at any price.

Every one of these kids is ready with a smile and a "hello." There is not a drop of bitterness or petty jealousy to be found. Every one of them is willing to help anyone who needs it. There are no stars or prima donnas on this team- they would never make the cut.

I like to take photos at these events. I have a couple of helpers on this team who will always come over, look at what I've shot, and tell me they're all great even though I know most of them are not. I'll even get a hug, a wink, or a pat on the back every once in a while. It may not sound like much but it gives one a good feeling.

As it is with most great athletes, a good deal of the credit should go to the coaches, the other cheerleaders who volunteer for these kids, and of course, the parents.

A little bit more is required from the parents on this team, but you'll never hear any one complaining that the trip is too long, or my kid doesn't get to do that. I even saw a dad fixing his daughter's hair a few weeks ago. I once offered to fix my daughter's hair and she didn't come out of her room for several days. They really seem like one big family. I think it makes the rest of us feel good just to be a small part of it.

There are several members from the other teams at the gym who volunteer to give up their precious free time to help coach and encourage these athletes. Of course there are the full-time coaches and the owners who allowed all of this to happen. It inspires all of us to do a little more than just enough.

Finally, when these kids go on stage it is a truly unforgettable sight and when the routine is over, and they wave and blow kisses to the crowd, the dads cheer and the moms get teary-eyed.

I, of course, am too busy taking pictures to get emotionally involved and besides, I'm a big, strong grown man. It is curious and somewhat of a scientific wonder that at the end of every one of these performances, there is a little tear left on the viewfinder of my camera. I don't know where it comes from.

I have no way of knowing if these kids will carry the lessons they've learned from their parents and coaches for the rest of their lives but I know I will.

I also think I know why they're called a "Special Needs Team." It must be because they fill so many of the special needs in all of us who are fortunate enough to be around them.