When my high school teachers attended my soccer, volleyball and basketball games, I thought it was weird. Other athletes seemed to appreciate these teachers' attendance, but it seemed to me that it would be more fun for them to play a sport themselves instead of watching me.
Now that I'm older and struggling with balance and vision as I recover from brain surgery and radiation, I'm a big fan. Ann and I attend all of the home games for the Storm, Seattle's WNBA team. When they're away we watch them on television if the game's available. We scour the newspaper for articles about them. Storm player bobbleheads of Lauren Jackson, Swin Cash, and Sue Bird grace our living room. In the back room, we have our "Title IX Shrine," posters of the original Seattle ABA team, The Reign, the Storm team the year Sheryl Swoops played, and a signed cartoon of Lauren and Sue (we're on a first name basis.)
Here's how to be a fan: On game day, wear your Storm gear. Also wear your Storm gear every other day. Make sure you have enough so that you aren't stanky. At church, if there are prayers of thanksgiving, be sure to pray in thanks for the Storm. Even if you can hardly walk, practice your layups on the court at the neighborhood park. Pretend you're Sue--as you practice layups and at all other times.
At the game (of course you'll go), stand up at the beginning of each half until a Storm player scores. Only then can you sit down. Yell and clap when directed by the booming voice. When the other team enters the arena for warm-ups, clap for them. When their starters are introduced, clap again. If there's a really good player on the other team or especially if there's a player who once wore a Storm uniform, clap a lot. We are good sports, we Storm fans, and we appreciate good basketball players, whether or not they play for us. When the game's underway, however, cheer only for the Storm. Some Storm fans boo the referees, but you should not do this. It's obnoxious. The refs, like everyone else out there, are doing their best.
Have a beer at the game. Vendors sell microbrews, and you can't buy ice-cream anymore, so you may as well have a beer. After the game, talk about each big play with your friends. Honk your horn joyfully. Drive like you cheer, politely. The next day look sadly at anyone who was not at the game. Nod your head as if that person who did not attend has a disease. Then tell them when the next game is as if you assume they want to know.
If you have an office, or even just a wall, hang Storm memorabilia for all to see. Do not take your memorabilia down in the off-season. This would be treasonous.
I'm a big fan. You can be, too. Mary
"For me a brain tumor and its treatments are not a pause in the adventure of life, but instead a part of the adventure of life." Mary has survived big hair, a brain tumor, coming out, distressed bowel syndrome, hallucinations, radiation, and a car wreck. Here Mary takes us from public transportation horrors to the joys of sharing life with you. Though you probably won't want to have a brain tumor; you will wish that you could see the world through Mary's eyes. Sister Jen
A Photograph of me without me in it
Saturday, October 2, 2010
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