100 Kick-Ass Female Characters: #45
45. Becky “The Icebox” O'Shea, as seen in the film Little Giants, portrayed by Shawna Waldron
Fun fact that nobody believes until I show them photographic evidence: I spent a very large portion of my life as a competitive cheerleader. Literally from the time I was 7-years-old until my freshman year of college, I spent 4-5 days a week, 9 months out of the year at cheerleading practice. While cheering I broke my nose, completely ruined my left knee, was knocked unconscious, and sprained my wrist so severely the doctor casted it. To this day, I help out with the all-star squad in my town, running tumbling practice and showing poor backspots like me how to take a hit without dropping the poor girl they're holding over their head. Now here is the truly ironic thing about my cheerleading career: I had absolutely no desire to ever be a cheerleader. Tomboy that I was (and still am), I wanted to play football and girls were not allowed; my well-meaning grandmother then signed me up to cheer for the peewee football team, thinking it was "close enough." As it turns out, I really did end up enjoying cheerleading, but I will forever be bitter I was not allowed to play football, especially since I was just as good as the boys in my class who I played ball with every day at recess.
And so, when Little Giants came out, the sight of Becky O'Shea experiencing my plight was the greatest thing ever. For those who are unaware, Little Giants tells the story of the O'Shea brothers, one of whom is a town hero and Heisman trophy winner while the other was always the younger, wimpy brother. Kevin (the football hero) coaches peewee football and Becky, Kevin's niece, is the best player at the tryouts. However, Kevin does not pick Becky because she is a girl, and that really pisses her off. Organizing the other kids who were cut from the team, Becky convinces Dan (her father) to coach a team they can play on. Because the town can only have one team, the brothers go head-to-head with their teams. Yet, for all it's brotherly love connotations, the story really is Becky's.
Becky is a well-known tomboy, abandoned by her mother and raised by her father. Her nickname is "The Icebox," boys are afraid of her, and she drives around town in a go-cart. Nothing scares The Icebox, and she detests anything "girly." But then Junior Floyd moves to town (Devon Sawa at his pre-pubescent dreamiest) and Becky develops a massive crush. He joins her team, and, while Junior likes Becky and respects her as a teammate, he flirts with Becky's girlier cousin Debbie. Becky gets her first taste of the cruel truth every tomboy learns: a teenage boy will think you are the coolest person ever, but, unless you're wearing lipstick and giggling, he isn't going to want to kiss you. She even calls him on this as she tries to weasel her way into a kiss, but Junior's compliment - "You could beat up my dad!" - is not what Becky wants to hear. Upset, Becky decides she wants to be a cheerleader instead so Junior will like her and look at her as a girl, shocking everyone and crushing the team's hopes of a win since she is the best player they have. It is only after Spike (the closest thing to a villain this movie has) hurts Junior in a late hit that Becky literally throws in her pompoms, puts on her jersey, and proceeds to kick some serious ass. The movie ends with the Little Giants winning, and Becky and Junior sharing their first kiss (which, okay, might have given me unrealistic expectations for junior high.)
What makes Becky such a great character is encapsulated in the scene where Becky takes the field following her adventures in cheerleading. As her father calls her by her name, Becky tells him, "Call me Icebox." And, when Junior wishes her good luck by using her nickname, she says, "Call me Becky." It was the first time (at least for girls my age) that a dichotomy was made for female characters; you could play football and still like a boy. You could like "boy things," but you didn't have to "act like a boy." Especially in pop culture, the women who get the most praise are the ones who adopt traditionally masculine characteristics; moreso lately, I've started to see praise for the traditionally female characters. But there is still this stubborn belief that some people hold that, if you are a "strong" character, it's weak to show your femininity, and I have never understood that; it's just a different sort of misogyny, and, what's worse, it's the sort of internalized misogyny women aren't even aware they hold.
Becky O'Shea managed to figure out a way to balance the two aspects of her personality at 12, and that deserves all the kick-ass praise in the world.
Fun fact that nobody believes until I show them photographic evidence: I spent a very large portion of my life as a competitive cheerleader. Literally from the time I was 7-years-old until my freshman year of college, I spent 4-5 days a week, 9 months out of the year at cheerleading practice. While cheering I broke my nose, completely ruined my left knee, was knocked unconscious, and sprained my wrist so severely the doctor casted it. To this day, I help out with the all-star squad in my town, running tumbling practice and showing poor backspots like me how to take a hit without dropping the poor girl they're holding over their head. Now here is the truly ironic thing about my cheerleading career: I had absolutely no desire to ever be a cheerleader. Tomboy that I was (and still am), I wanted to play football and girls were not allowed; my well-meaning grandmother then signed me up to cheer for the peewee football team, thinking it was "close enough." As it turns out, I really did end up enjoying cheerleading, but I will forever be bitter I was not allowed to play football, especially since I was just as good as the boys in my class who I played ball with every day at recess.
And so, when Little Giants came out, the sight of Becky O'Shea experiencing my plight was the greatest thing ever. For those who are unaware, Little Giants tells the story of the O'Shea brothers, one of whom is a town hero and Heisman trophy winner while the other was always the younger, wimpy brother. Kevin (the football hero) coaches peewee football and Becky, Kevin's niece, is the best player at the tryouts. However, Kevin does not pick Becky because she is a girl, and that really pisses her off. Organizing the other kids who were cut from the team, Becky convinces Dan (her father) to coach a team they can play on. Because the town can only have one team, the brothers go head-to-head with their teams. Yet, for all it's brotherly love connotations, the story really is Becky's.
Becky is a well-known tomboy, abandoned by her mother and raised by her father. Her nickname is "The Icebox," boys are afraid of her, and she drives around town in a go-cart. Nothing scares The Icebox, and she detests anything "girly." But then Junior Floyd moves to town (Devon Sawa at his pre-pubescent dreamiest) and Becky develops a massive crush. He joins her team, and, while Junior likes Becky and respects her as a teammate, he flirts with Becky's girlier cousin Debbie. Becky gets her first taste of the cruel truth every tomboy learns: a teenage boy will think you are the coolest person ever, but, unless you're wearing lipstick and giggling, he isn't going to want to kiss you. She even calls him on this as she tries to weasel her way into a kiss, but Junior's compliment - "You could beat up my dad!" - is not what Becky wants to hear. Upset, Becky decides she wants to be a cheerleader instead so Junior will like her and look at her as a girl, shocking everyone and crushing the team's hopes of a win since she is the best player they have. It is only after Spike (the closest thing to a villain this movie has) hurts Junior in a late hit that Becky literally throws in her pompoms, puts on her jersey, and proceeds to kick some serious ass. The movie ends with the Little Giants winning, and Becky and Junior sharing their first kiss (which, okay, might have given me unrealistic expectations for junior high.)
What makes Becky such a great character is encapsulated in the scene where Becky takes the field following her adventures in cheerleading. As her father calls her by her name, Becky tells him, "Call me Icebox." And, when Junior wishes her good luck by using her nickname, she says, "Call me Becky." It was the first time (at least for girls my age) that a dichotomy was made for female characters; you could play football and still like a boy. You could like "boy things," but you didn't have to "act like a boy." Especially in pop culture, the women who get the most praise are the ones who adopt traditionally masculine characteristics; moreso lately, I've started to see praise for the traditionally female characters. But there is still this stubborn belief that some people hold that, if you are a "strong" character, it's weak to show your femininity, and I have never understood that; it's just a different sort of misogyny, and, what's worse, it's the sort of internalized misogyny women aren't even aware they hold.
Becky O'Shea managed to figure out a way to balance the two aspects of her personality at 12, and that deserves all the kick-ass praise in the world.