The New Orleans Pelicans’ Early Birds do Tootsie Roll at 76 | Entertainment/Life

Five, six, seven, eight.

When I walked into Premiere Fitness in Metairie on Feb. 7, Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” was already in full rotation and 27 senior adults were fanning their faces to the beat.

Then they started moving.

“Group One comes in on one. Group Two on three. Group Three on five,” called out Willy Foster, choreographer and coach. “Now, when you’re bringing that arm around to reach down, nobody throw out a shoulder. We don’t have time for that today.”

I’m not sure what I expected when I arranged to practice with the Early Birds, New Orleans Pelicans’ over-55 dance team, but I didn’t expect Nelly.

Watching the moves they had learned in the 30 minutes before I arrived made me rethink jumping right in.

I decided to observe. After all, I had photographs to take.

More than 200 people audition for the Early Birds each year. Only 27 members are selected. The team reflects the full spectrum of New Orleans. Some are lifelong dancers, while others found their way back to the practice later. They perform once a month during halftime at the Smoothie King Center. It’s a paid gig — an hourly rate for practices, performances and appearances. There are Saturday practices in Metairie and a dress rehearsal at the arena before each game to set and perfect the routine.

This is not a hobby class. This is halftime.

Many of the Early Birds — and Foster herself — have been with the organization since the Hornets era.

Foster, 35, blends serious expectations with an understanding of the lives her dancers have already lived. She started as a dancer on the Hornets’ kid team, the Stingers. As a young adult, she was a Honeybee for two seasons, then danced three years with the Houston Rockets before returning home to coach. She’s in her sixth year working in the NBA.

“I get to tie in the culture that I grew up on with the team,” Foster said.

Second-line songs, line dances, rap and other New Orleans staples are layered into their routines, eight counts at a time.

Under her leadership, the practice moves quickly. Water breaks are short and frequent.

When dancers return to their spots, some are peeling bananas. Team member Gwen Simpson brings fruit to every practice — one of the small gestures that separates this group from the typical image of professional dance rehearsals. Some call her the group’s Carmen Miranda.

There is laughter. There is encouragement. There are corrections.

When they moved into a section that involved eight counts of striking a pose followed by another eight counts of striking a different pose, one of the dancers said to me, “Get in here and join us.”

Sixteen counts of posing had me thinking, “I’ve got this.”

Then the music shifted to Flo Rida’s “Low,” and we were “tootsie rolling” to “apple-bottom jeans and boots with the fur.”

I did my best to keep up.

Two rows in front of me, Sharon Carter Sheridan, 76, was doing just fine. She’s been dancing with the group since it began in 2007. 

“It’s so exciting,” she said. “Once you get on that floor and people start clapping and screaming, the music is just so much fun.”

Charlene Hibbs, who invited me to the practice, says dancing again is about connection — with longtime friends and with a part of herself that never left.

For Hibbs, it really comes down to joy.

“After decades as a dance teacher, the joy of performing again and sharing it with my teammates takes me back,” Hibbs said.

She says the thrill of stepping onto the court in her 60s reminds her of stepping onto the Saints’ field when she was in her 20s. 

Celeste Pfefferle said the crowd always takes a second to warm up.

“You never know which move it’s gonna be,” she said. “But there’s a move that sets them off, and they go crazy. And then you’re lucky if you can hear the music because they’re into it.”

When Sharon McCoy told me that she had to get the moves just right or hear about it from her daughter, we laughed together. Even though we had just met, we recognized the shared knowledge of mother-daughter dynamics.

Rehearsing with the group made me appreciate the subtle rebellion of 27 seniors learning choreography to Flo Rida on a Saturday morning in Metairie.

They have careers behind them, adult children, grandchildren and decades of life experience. And yet once a month, at halftime, they step onto the court at the Smoothie King Center and wait for the crowd to join them in appreciating the rhythm.

In their practice studio, despite my weak “tootsie roll” efforts, I felt right at home.

Not because I kept up.

But because they did.

Five, six, seven, eight.

The Early Birds are scheduled to perform at the Feb. 24 Pelicans’ game against the Golden State Warriors at the Smoothie King Center.