Overheard: DC fan to other DC fan toward the end of the game, nodding towards us: “Wonder how they feel being here now?”
How did I feel? Well, mostly I was cold, because it was friggin’ cold. And I had to pee, because I’m eight months pregnant and I always have to pee. I don’t think that’s what they meant, though. I think they were wondering if we were embarrassed to be there in Militia colors, if we regretted traveling down the east coast to watch a game that didn’t go the way we wanted it to. And what I thought was this: if that’s really how you think I feel, you have a pathetic idea of what a real fan is.
Of course it’s great to be a fan when your team wins. That goes without saying. But if that’s all you experience, if that’s all you know and those are the only times you show up (and stay ’til the end), the wins don’t mean as much. I mean, I’m from Boston, ferchrissakes. The 2004 Sox season doesn’t mean that 2003 didn’t happen. They’re equal parts of the story, and the latter made the former that much better – that much more real.
If you can stand it, think for a moment about the last game of the 2009 season when DC scored that heartbreaking touchdown in the final seconds. OK, you can stop thinking about it now. Know what the Militia did after that? Won eleven freakin’ games in a row (including three against DC, ahem). And this is not me saying that that’s what I expect now – that would be ridiculous, especially from someone whose maximum physical contribution to the game is waddling from the car to her seat in the bleachers. But whatever does happen with the rest of the season, I fully intend to be there – in person when I can, and in spirit when I’m, y’know, giving birth and stuff.
So how did I feel being at the game last night? I’m the Militia Cheerleader, dude. I support my team at every single game. What on earth do I have to feel bad about?
Overheard in the Militia Fan Zone, fourth quarter:
Announcer: “Illegal shift, offense.”
Militia Fan: “Illegal…oh, now you’re just making shit up!”
Backseat Coach: (standing on bleacher seats) “I gotcher illegal shift right here, pal!”
Other Militia Fan: “Hey ref, you suck!”
Announcer: “Pass interference, defense.”
Assorted Militia fans: “Make-up call.” “Mm-hmm. Make-up call.” “We’ll take it.” [We all nod at each other.] Pause.
Militia Fan: “Hey ref, you still suck!”
What can I say? We’re from Boston.
Overheard from cheerleaders WAY cuter than me: Two little girls sitting near us for the first half of the game, there in support of – I believe – Aunt Patty. These girls had it going on:
Go, Patty! Go, Patty!
Don’t get hurt! Don’t get hurt!
Do the best you can! Do the best you can!
Score a whole goal! Score a whole goal!
This was in somewhat stark contrast to Backseat Coach’s own form of gametime feedback (“Hey, Ref! If you had one more eye, you’d be a Cyclops!”). But I suppose they’re equally valid forms of support, each in their own way. (I totally plan to co-opt the girls’ cheers for the rest of the season, however. Yeah, Militia! Score a whole goal!)