There is something relieving about watching someone else participate in a fitness activity. Maybe it’s because the pressure is off me — I don’t have to perform. I don’t have to exert myself. All I have to do is cheer. And I rock at cheering.
Apparently, my cheering is a sound to behold. Baseball fans may recognize some of my more famous chants, such as “Great running!” and “That was a nice catch but maybe next time you could not catch it so the A’s can score because while you seem like a lovely team, I really like the A’s!” and “Good contact!” I have a tendency to not just go with the undescriptive scream for joy, but rather offer a complete thought or precise praise towards the recipient of my cheer.
At my last A’s game before the big move, I gave my usual hearty bellow of encouragement during my favorite part of the game — the men who rake the field between innings. “You guys are raking the dirt quite well! But I think you could do better! More running! Keep up! You’re doing better! There you go! See how even those lines are? Nice job!” I called all in a row. The A’s fans sitting in front of me actually turned around and asked if I knew the raking men. Of course I don’t, I replied. But doesn’t everyone benefit from a little cheer?