Just look at those words themselves. Bundled-up cheerleader. It's like non-alcoholic beer. The purpose is completely defeated.
The weather drops into the 20s and 30s, and the poor cheerleaders take the field wearing something akin to a parka. I don't know about you, but I won't even consider taking orders on when to cheer from someone who doesn't even care enough to show some belly-button.
So here's my proposed solution: heated plexiglass enclosures.
I don't want to call them "cages," really, because that makes it seem dirty, and what I'm talking about here is something clean and wholesome. All I want is for these women to be warm and able to perform their art in a comfortable, very lightly-clothed atmosphere.
And I think we could accomplish this, even in a place like Denver, with a plexiglass enclosure and a couple of space heaters. I want you to be able to lose that big fringed leather coat, ma'am. That has to restrict your range of motion. How are you supposed to let me know that you've got spirit, yes you do, when your arms are weighed down like that, and there is no accompanying jiggle?
Plexiglass. Hockey uses it to keep pucks from killing spectators, and the NFL can use it to keep fully-covered torsos and legs from killing the spirit of fans. Give these women some shelter, pump some heat in, and let them cheer with roughly 4% of their skin covered. That's how the founding fathers would have wanted it.