Aye! Americans can cheer. And they have learned to do it together. For years, my nerves fried when I heard the high pitched shriek, usually from the vibrating throats of perkygirls and buffed boys wearing college sweatshirts as their fashion statement. The whoop-shriek was the worst part of American individualism. Europeans, along time ago, shunned the personal whoop.They mastered the collective roar, likely born in the Crusades and alive and well in pubs, and at soccer games. But last night, Americans joined the collective roar. Across the land, great growls of unified joy, sending every single shrieker heading for the exit.The age of the singular American whoop is over. The day of the collective cheer has arrived.