By Lorry Myers
I embraced bleacher behavior early in life and learned the appropriate cheers for each sport. I’ve been known to stomp in time, howl with the crowd, and stand up to sing the Fight Song. If I’m in the bleachers to root for my team, then I’m going to root for my team.
I thought my children’s activities were exclusive to bleacher sports when my daughter came home one day and announced that she had joined the golf team.
Wait, we are not golfers.
How could Mariah compete in a high school sport that she had never been exposed to? I explained the situation to the coach hoping he would help me to dissuade her. Instead, Coach told me if she was serious, he could teach her. Mariah borrowed a set of clubs and showed up early for the first practice.
Apparently, she was serious.
First home meet, I arrived early at the Country Club golf course uncertain what to do. I was pacing back and forth trying to figure it out when the coach walked up and said that the players were cresting the hill and I could watch the first hole from the patio of the clubhouse.
No bleachers here.
By then, experienced golf parents began arriving, bringing things I didn’t know I needed. Through borrowed binoculars, I watched Mariah’s ball fly over the ridge and land on the green alongside the clubhouse. She looked so cute out there so when she was in earshot, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I jumped out of the patio chair knocking it over behind me and cupped my hands as I frequently do in bleachers. “OK! ALL RIGHT! YOU CAN DO IT! KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE BALL! KEEP YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME. YOU ARE LOOKING GOOD!” Then, I followed this with a few fist-pumping “Woo-Woo’s” for good measure.
Who needs bleachers to cheer for your child?
For the complete article, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard