The Biggest Fan

My Mom may not be the biggest sports fan, but she’s my biggest fan, and because of that, sports have become a huge part of her world as well. She grew up in a time when it wasn’t acceptable for girls to play sports, but never once did she discourage me from being both a fan and a player. She didn’t mind that I preferred a Red Sox cap over pink when I was little and she always came to my games throughout grammar school, high school, and college, even if she was the only person in the stands. She still checks to see how the Red Sox and Marlins are doing and still listens to me describe my softball games in vivid detail. She may not have grown up with sports, but she developed a passion for it through me.

Two of my favorite sports-related Mom memories were when she joined a group of us playing pick-up softball on a weed-filled lot after school one day and when she left me a voicemail while I was away at a volleyball game, with detailed highlights from the Marlins first play-off run. Watching my Mom rip a hard grounder up the middle and hearing her give a report that would put a color commentator to shame made me proud and made me smile.

So as I sat next to my Mom (and Dad… next month is your month, Dad!) at the Nationals-Marlins game yesterday, watching the Nats wave to the crowd with their own mothers by their sides, I thought about how lucky I am to have a mother who let me love what I wanted to love instead of telling me what I should love. It was a valuable lesson that I’ve taken to heart.

My friends have often taunted me that someday I’ll have a daughter who will want to be a cheerleader. That would be the ultimate irony, but somehow I know I’d end up traveling miles and miles to watch her competitions and being able to go on at length about bases, pyramids, and herkies because it’ll mean the world to her and I’ll be her biggest fan as well.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.