Celebrate your right to know.

This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life, the day I could only dream about, the day that my teachers told me would never come, the day I’ve been rehearsing for in front of a mirror since I was 11 and first discovered body hair.

Today is the day I finally get to use the word “flummox” in a sentence, as in “This morning I was flummoxed after reading an article.” This sentence might not win me any style points from Strunk and/or White, but it’s true: Even the title of the article on espn.com flummoxed me; it was so absurd I had to click on it:

Cheerleader continues cheering after breaking neck

Immediately I started imagining a horrible cheerleading accident after which the victim, much like the headless chicken, ran about flailing arms and legs as if still cheering before collapsing to the floor in a lifeless heap in front of a stunned audience, the only sound in the hall being that of the competition judge reading off the miserably low scores.

It seems I wasn’t too far off – only the real story was far more grotesque. There was a very bad accident: A cheerleader fell from 15 feet and landed on her head breaking her neck. She lay motionless for a few minutes. The paramedics strapped her onto a gurney and were wheeling her out as 14,000 avid fans of cheerleading competitions looked on …

Up until now the article seemed routine, but then things started getting surreal.

The paramedics strapped her onto a gurney and were wheeling her out as 14,000 avid fans of cheerleading competitions looked on WHEN ALL OF THE SUDDEN THE BAND STARTED PLAYING THE SCHOOL FIGHT SONG. Let the flummoxing begin! An 18-year-old woman might be spending the rest of her life in a wheelchair, and the band leader can think of nothing better than to play some droning ditty about a fierce wildcat and eternal allegiance to an overpriced institution? Does he do this at home, too?

Mrs Band Leader: Honey, your mom just died. I’m sorry.

Mr Band Leader: It’s alright, Dear. I’ll just play a rousing rendition of We Will Rock You on my sousaphone and everything will be fine.

That, it turns out, was just the beginning. Upon hearing the music, the semi-groggy cheerleader continued cheering with her free arms – perhaps aggravating her injuries in the process – so that her teammates “knew I was OK” and didn’t worry about her. Said the very embodiment of selfless team spirit: “I didn’t want the team to get distracted. I needed them to win for me.” Why, oh why do people say crap like that? Would winning some hooray-for-everything competition improve her chances of a complete recovery? Would it ease the minds of her parents?

And now the story has ascended to the lofty, oxygen-deprived heights of just-plain-silly. At some point in front of the computer, the writer of this piece forgot he or she was covering a trivial competition involving an unfortunate accident and not something a bit more dramatic like, say, The Battle of Antietam, Hamburger Hill or a five-alarm fire.

“Kristi Yamaoka wasn’t about to let a broken neck and concussion keep her school spirit down,” the article begins. Other than getting Ms Yamaoka’s name placed at the top of the Alma Mater’s fund drive mailing list, what does a sentence like that accomplish? What does the journalist wish to convey? That school spirit is vitally important? That broken necks and concussions can be overcome if one has faith in some big-headed mascot with a permanent snarl?

Of course not. The message is simple and, in America, universal: We are all heroes. We are all victims. That explains Ms Yamaoka’s ill-fitting win-one-for-the-gipper response. It also explains her coach’s response: “She didn’t want to leave the floor. She said, ‘Just let me finish the game.’ That’s Kristi — 100 percent school spirit.” 100 percent brainwashed is more like it.

Do we Americans, as ueber-patriots, actually buy the Hollywood party line, forever casting ourselves as the everyday hero? You see it everywhere: movies, tv shows, beer commercials, pop songs. But do we really believe it?

The question flummoxes.