There’s a special kind of chaos that unfolds at youth sports events—and no one adds more delightful unpredictability than grandparents. They’re the unsung sideline MVPs, with their unfiltered commentary, generational wisdom and unwavering devotion. My mom is the human version of a hype squad. Even when she’s just coming along to watch practice, she cheers like my kid’s playing in a championship final. Warm-up laps? She’s clapping. Stretching? She’s shouting encouragement. It’s sweet. And also … please stop yelling “Great job, number 12! What a pass!” during water breaks. (Love you, Mom.)
There’s a wide variety of these sideline silver-hairs. There are the ones who are part comic relief, part moral compass, and part team historian and then there are legendary grandparents.
I once met a couple who had nearly 10 grandkids in sports and never missed a game. Baseball, soccer, swim meets, lacrosse, volleyball—you name it. They showed up with matching embroidered chairs, each topped with a foam cushion. Their rotating sweatshirts had every grandkid’s name stitched on, and they waved giant poster-sized face cutouts from the stands. And then there are the quiet heroes—the ones who step in for a single mom or dad. They take on all the driving, handle the snacks, the schedule, the sideline support. Rain or shine, early or late, they’re there.
Then there was the grandmother who served as team photographer for every one of her grandkids’ teams. And the photos? Professional, edited, gallery-worthy. She basically ran a free photo studio from the sidelines.
And my absolute favorite grandparents? The ones who rain or shine, they’re there. Whether or not the parents can make it, they show up—always. They know every single player’s name, their backstories, their stats and what position they played last weekend. Honestly, I think they could write the post-game recap better than anyone. Every team deserves someone like Hailey and Brooke’s grandparents in the stands (see cover photo).
Then there are the unfiltered elders. It’s not just that they always show up—it’s that when they do, nothing goes unsaid. They say what everyone’s thinking, and often what no one’s thinking. Like the grandpa who once leaned over—in earshot of the kid’s parents—and said, “That poor boy couldn’t find the ball with a flashlight and a map.” Or the grandmother who, after her grandson missed a wide-open shot, turned to the parents around her and said, “Welp. He’s got his daddy’s aim.”
