I call my Mom on game nights.
Decided to write this after my Mom tricked me into handing over my favorite #Warriors hoodie. Had to vent.
I call my mom on game nights.
…on Golden State Warrior game nights. To any other Warrior fan, game nights are exciting. Game nights are amazing. Game nights are something to look forward to after a tough day at work.
I happen to be a Warrior fan and I do feel all of the above. But in addition to that, my Mom’s a huge Warrior fan… who also happens to be a newly diagnosed Triple Negative Breast Cancer fighter.
Stephen Curry, along with Dray, along with Klay, HB, Mo’ Buckets, Livingston, Barbosa, Bogut, Luke, Kerr, and the entire organization have done more for my Mom, my family, and me these past few weeks than they’ll probably ever know.
I* text my Dad 15 minutes before tip off to remind him that there’s a game and to put it on for my Mom. I talk to my parents for about 10 minutes, then my Mom “shooos” me (or *one of my sisters) when the game starts.
Locked in, per Steph’s instructions.
She can’t be bothered. This is her zone.
Time to leave Mama Ruby alone.
During the game, I’ll get texts (or Snaps) from my sisters about how my Mom is yelling at the TV telling Mo’ to stop missing buckets, telling Curry to keep making 3’s, and/or just rooting on Dray and telling the refs that they suck.
The other night she asked me why Kerr keeps sitting everyone after playing so well. Had to explain the whole “saving them for playoffs”, “developing the bench”, “they need rest!” spiel before she could hang up on me.
The combination of these moments and many more other amazing drives, lobs, and ridiculous shots seem to give my Mom this insurmountable energy.
The same energy that’s drained out of her after chemo, after her appointments, after commuting to and from Hercules, Berkeley, and Oakland.
But when game time comes, you wouldn’t even know she’s gone through this. I see her fighting. I see my Dad, my sisters, her doctors and nurses, etc. fighting on.
That’s why I call my Mom on game nights.
