‘Cheer’ Is Back—and the Competition Is Fiercer Than Ever

“My goal was to be the best cheer program in the country,” Navarro College coach Monica Aldama says in the second season of Cheer, which premiered on Netflix Wednesday, “and that’s what I did.” No lies here: The first season, a pop-cultural explosion in January 2020, ended with the steely-eyed Aldama leading her team of elite athletes to her 14th national championship title. Long-term domination, however, does not a gripping docu-series make. (As former student assistant coach Kapena Kea quipped in Episode 2: “Who needs another ring?”) I wondered how the Netflix phenomenon would raise the stakes in its sophomore season. In the premiere, viewers got the answer: Trinity Valley Community College, Navarro’s neighbors in Athens, Texas, and their closest rivals.

TVCC enters the chat, turning Season 2 into the kind of “cheer-off” not seen since Bring It On. Cheer now splits its time between both squads, introducing us to Aldama’s counterpart, TVCC coach Vontae Johnson, who may be (almost) equally competitive. A former collegiate and Team USA cheerleader, he’s hands-on to the point of jumping in on lifts, elevating a sprightly stunter— who is balancing on one foot—in the palm of his outstretched hand. Johnson and his fierce, hungry star Jada Wooten are tired of coming in second place at “Daytona” (shorthand for the Florida setting of nationals), and he’s running his grueling program accordingly, including by making his squad run until they puke. In one fantastically craven scene, Johnson poaches the longtime choreographer behind Navarro’s flashy, frenetic routines to revamp TVCC’s more classic stunt work. (Ever interested in moving backstories, Cheer tells us that Johnson, like many others spotlighted on the show, turned to cheerleading as a way out of a tough upbringing between Florida and Texas.)

The TVCC Cardinals bring a brash, underdog energy that goes right down to their chant: “Here’s to you/ Here’s to me/ National Champs, we’re soon to be/ and if the judges disagree/ Fuck them, here’s to we.” Still, it’s hard to outdo Aldama’s reality-drama bonafides: her resting bitch face (and I mean that as a compliment) and cool monotone remain exquisite. When assistant coach Andy Cosferent mentions that hard-working tumbler Brooke Morosca has been hoping to make mat, Aldama deadpans “Everybody hopes,” the line that becomes the title of the premiere. Morosca doesn’t make it, dissolving into tears.

If Navarro is vulnerable to the upstart TVCC, it’s because fame has weakened their competitive edge. Cheer breaks the fourth wall, documenting stars like Lexi Brumback filming Cameos and Aldama joining Dancing with the Stars. She’s no longer just a cheer mastermind, but a spokeswoman for the Cheer brand, filming incessant TV interviews and all but acting as an agent for Season 1 breakout La’Darius Marshall. It’s eerie to watch the team—especially wide-eyed, tender-hearted Morgan Simanier—seize sponsorships and commercials in the aftermath of Season 1, hoping to parlay reality TV buzz into permanent, stable careers, knowing that two years later, the limelight has faded. To Aldama, fame begets pressure; all the more reason Navarro needs to successfully defend its title. Kea, for one, has his doubts: “If they do lose, they weren’t here for the right reasons.” It’s one of the oldest clichés in reality TV, but the point stands nevertheless.