It’s Friday afternoon and I’m glued to my TV, where I’m streaming the webcast of a week-long competition. The final results are minutes from being announced and I lean closer to the TV, as if that will somehow transport me to the geographic site of the competition. In reality, I have a better chance of going blind from sitting too close (just like Mom warned).

I’m specifically not mentioning what sport, event or contest this is because it’s not the point.

Instead, imagine your own version of playoff or finale you get caught up in.

Maybe it’s the regional cooking showdown, synchronized pancake flipping (it’s not a thing), Microsoft Excel World Championships (that is a thing), the Masked Singer, Love Island … it matters not.

The suspense builds. A year’s worth of effort, travel and training are on the line for ten competitors waiting to hear who comes out on top. 

That’s where I’m at - anxiously waiting despite having zero skin in the game, zero investment, zero contribution, just pure loyalty to the event and the people. 

I do have a favorite though. We all do.

Seconds before the results are announced, my friend, we’ll call her Gina (because that’s her name) comes over. I give her a quick hug and blurt out, “Finals. Announcement. Hi.”

Gina bypasses the need for filler words. She takes one look at my eager “this is my Super Bowl” face and without words, says, “I’m in!”

She stands right by my side mirroring my anticipatory energy.

As time allows, I fill her in on what we were watching, an event she has zero context for, a niche competition she doesn’t even know exists.

As each score is announced and my favorite team (or chef, or singer, or pancake spinner, or bachelor…) hasn’t been called yet, Gina’s getting more and more into it. 

Tenth place. Ninth place. Eighth place. 

We’re both standing now

“WE’RE STILL IN IT!” Gina yells.

I level-up to match her energy.

When the announcer begins the third-place call, the name starts like our hopeful favorite’s.

Gina gasps.

It’s not them.

“DON’T DO THAT TO ME!” Gina scolds the TV.

“It’s 50/50 right?” Gina confirms our odds of our team winning.

I hadn’t even done the fraction. I’m just excited every time I don’t hear my team’s name announced.

Here comes the second place announcement …

It’s not our team!

“WE WON!” 

Gina is jumping up and down.  We high-five. We might have chest bumped.

She’s cheering and celebrating like she’s been a fan for years - of a team she learned about five minutes ago.

She didn’t know the rules, the backstory or the strategy.

She cared because it mattered to me.

That moment isn’t about fandom. It’s about friendship.

She didn’t borrow my expertise, she borrowed my excitement.

You don’t have to be an expert in someone else’s quirky little world to share in their joy.

What matters is showing up, jumping in with genuine interest and celebrating what lights them up.

Sometimes, the best kind of support is borrowed excitement.

And hey, if that means cheering for a team whose name you just learned five minutes ago, all the better.