This was one assignment I didn't want to miss.

Hordes of beautiful women from Texas; low-cut shorts (we're talking borderline indecent here); more leg kicks than Gary Anderson on any given Sunday; enough cheering to brighten your entire month.

When my boss asked if I wanted to cover the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders last week in Tokyo, I answered with a Marv Albertesque "Yesss!" before he could finish his sentence. I nearly broke into a cheer of my own.

Two-four-six-eight, if there's a God I'll land a date!

Who cares if the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders are more marketing machine than athletic team? They're sexier than the Laker Girls and more fun to watch than the New Orleans Saints. There are even two movies about the troupe ("Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders" and the more creatively titled "Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders II"). Yes, this was the Holy Grail of sportswriting gigs and it landed right in my lap. Life can be cruel sometimes.

So why the heck did I oversleep the morning of the press conference? There's an easy explanation, I keep telling myself. I was up late the night before checking out the official Web site of the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. Believe me, there's a lot to learn about these 33 women. They do charity work year-round, host a variety show on TV and travel to U.S. military bases worldwide, giving the troops (and perhaps a few locals) a chance to go bonkers.

With apologies to my ninth grade history teacher, I now know more about the cheerleaders than the French Revolution. The site has video profiles of the women, a section where you can ask them questions, a Members Only area (never found out what's behind door No. 2, however) and an online store where you can buy, among other things, a swimsuit calendar from 1994. Oddly, this calendar isn't any cheaper than the 2000 version. Did I mention photos from exotic locations? Let's just hope the cheerleaders wear sunscreen because their blouses, vests, boots and Daisy Dukes don't cover very much. How I got any sleep that night is a wonder in itself.

By the time I made it cross-town to the press conference, I was about 20 minutes late. The festivities -- to promote the Cowboys' preseason game against the Atlanta Falcons at the Tokyo Dome in August -- were set to last about an hour, so I was in the clear. When I opened the door to the banquet room where the event was taking place, I was confronted with a surreal scene that was two-thirds "Flashdance" and one-third "Bonanza."

The lights were dimmed and hoedown music blared from large speakers. Eight cheerleaders had made the trip here and they were in front dancing, if that's what you want to call it. Some did flips and dips, others did splits; the whole routine made me dizzy. I've since tried duplicating one of the moves for a friend but wound up pulling a muscle in my lower back.

All of the women were smiling, even after a grueling 10-minute routine. Most people can barely grin after that much aerobic activity. About 50 other sportswriters were on hand wearing smiles of their own. There was enough joy in the room to resolve any political difference or border dispute across the globe. Just think of what these cheerleaders could do for peace in the Middle East. Suddenly, I found myself smiling, too.

Now it came time for the women to introduce themselves. First up was Amber Strauser, a 5-foot-6-inch redhead from Indiana who likes to watch MTV and wear Victoria Secret's Pear Glace perfume. Amber is in her second year with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders . . . at the tender age of 19! Hang on, that means she was only 18 when she started. Well, if Kobe Bryant can go straight from high school to the Lakers, why can't Amber make the same kind of leap?

As the women gave their vital statistics (age, years on the squad, etc.), they stood in perfect formation like well-trained marines: arms behind their backs, chests thrust forward. I got the feeling they had been schooled in every aspect of cheerleading, from posture to public speaking to smiling.

Looking from afar is one thing, but now it was time for the media to ask questions.

You've never seen so many grownups turn into shy schoolboys with crushes on the prettiest girl in class. No one wanted to go first. After a good 30 seconds, one brave sportswriter (certainly not me) asked Tomoko Mita, a Japanese in her second year on the squad, about her diet. Then came another question about how often they practice. Another about their charity work.

No one was asking the question that really needed to be addressed. So I raised my hand, eventually got a hold of the microphone and mustered up the courage to ask America's darlings, still covered in sweat from dancing, a tough one.

"What kind of advice (gulp) would you give (clear throat) the Cowboys coach on getting back to the Super Bowl?" I stuttered.

They looked stumped. An awkward moment of silence broke out before the group's 30-year-old leader, Cindi Alsobrook, looked right at me, winked and smiled.

I smiled back.

Fifty other sportswriters smiled.

"Practice makes perfect," she said.

Clever answer, I thought. But then I came up with an even better question that would surely stump her. Should Dallas use the nickel defense more on third downs or just rely on a 4-3 formation? Unfortunately, the mike had moved across the room at this point and I never got to ask. The topic of football never came up again at the press conference.

Next up was a brief photo op where the women posed and, you guessed it, showed off their pearly whites. I've never seen a group of cameramen look more elated in my life.

But then, before I even got a chance to arrange a one-on-one interview with, let's say, Amber, the press conference was declared over and the cheerleaders were whisked away through a back door. It looked as though they were late for an important meeting, and -- who knows? -- maybe they were.

No worries. The women will be back in August, and you can bet I'll be here to greet them with a smile.