I remember when we were in pre-marital counseling with Pastor Chris and we were talking about our ideas of what to expect in a marriage. I looked at it like "we are a team." I grew up playing pretty much every sport that I could: soccer, basketball, softball, cheerleading (yes, it's a sport, not up for discussion!) and to this day, I still VERY MUCH buy in to all of those sports sayings. You know, "get your head in the game," "quitters never win and winners never quit," and what not. I think I've enjoyed a fair amount of professional success by framing a lot of things like a game, or a competition. You know, "practice like you play." I could go on forever.
Anyway, going into this marriage, I was EAGER to have a teammate. Someone who would always have my back, and I would always have him. Someone to work WITH. Someone who could be strong where I was weak. Someone I could pass the ball to when I got in trouble. You get the point, right.
And Michael has been of that... and MORE. Figuratively and literally, he is my biggest fan! He cheers me along in everything. In work, in home stuff, all of it. And I am his biggest fan, too. We celebrate victories together.
Over the summer, Michael hardly missed a softball game. He sat out in the sun (or in the shade when possible), took team pictures, blew me kisses through the fence and I was always so happy to hear "That's my wife!" when I made a good play.
I kept an eye on him. Those of you who know me know how I worry. When I was playing 2nd base, and I'd survey the land to find him, and when he was out of site, I'd internally freak out, thinking he'd probably been hit by a car, or fallen into a ravine (you know, the usual, I'm not extreme at all, right?). I'd have to get my head back in to the game. Always, I'd hear my biggest fan cheering from somewhere off the field.
It meant so much to me. He's my favorite biggest fan. And my favorite sports photographer.