Football and family: an ode to my mother-in-law

“Mother-in-law! Mother-in-law! Mother-in-law!”

Jubilant that the Winnipeg Blue Bombers finally ended the 29-year Grey Cup drought, this was the phrase I yelled over and over until my voice was hoarse back in 2019. All the other Winnipeg fans with us in Calgary, including my mother-in-law, Sarah, were cheering, “Go Bombers go!” or, “Let’s go Bombers!”

Why did I chant, “Mother-in-law!” when Jake Thomas raised the Cup? I don’t know. It wasn’t conscious — it was just the first thing that came to my mind. But now I know why: deeply intertwined with my love of the Blue Bombers was my wonderful relationship with my mother-in-law.

The best part of watching Winnipeg finally hoist the Grey Cup was that we were there together. It was a celebration not only of the eleventh championship in team history but of sticking through the lean years together. We never gave up hope.

From the time I met my future wife in 2008, Sarah and I watched every game together. Our next Grey Cup was Hamilton in 2021, where we watched our beloved Blue win a second-straight championship, this one in overtime.

Thus, when I bought Sarah a new jersey for her birthday two years ago, it had the No. 1 on the back and a nameplate that read, “Mother-in-law.” Less than three years later, my mother-in-law was gone. At the young age of 70, Sarah died of cancer only 10 months after receiving the diagnosis.

The last game I watched with Sarah occurred when she was in palliative care. Looking back, she only had days to live, but still wore her jersey and a Winnipeg Blue Bombers beanie to keep her hairless head warm. Perhaps fittingly, the Bombers played the Saskatchewan Roughriders that day, losing 19-9.

It was oh-so-close: with 2:55 left in the fourth quarter and Winnipeg down by seven, Nic Demski caught a long pass from Zach Collaros and was seemingly on his way to the end zone to tie the game, only to have the ball punched out by a pursuing Jameer Thurman. I say it was fitting that our last game involved the Riders because Sarah grew up in Regina. Her father was even the team doctor for the Riders for a time. Thus, Sarah grew up a passionate member of Rider Nation.

However, she moved to Winnipeg in the early 1980s, a golden era for the Blue Bombers. Drawn to them by likes of James Murphy, Chris Walby, and Willard Reaves, Sarah swapped her green and white for blue and gold. Even then, she always said, “If the Bombers don’t win the Grey Cup, I’m cheering for the Riders.” I’ll forgive her that one faux pas.

In any case, when I met my wife and realized that her mother was a season ticket holder just like me, I was over the moon. It was the ultimate hall pass to attend games and watch them on TV: my wife couldn’t complain because I would be hanging out with her mom! That’s how it was with Sarah: we watched every away game at her house or mine and piled into her car to go to every home game.

It didn’t stop there. Like me, Sarah was an avid fan of the entire CFL, so we’d watch many non-Bombers games, enjoying three-down football and each other’s company.

Sarah was more than a fan of course. She was an incredible, award-winning family physician, president of The College of Family Physicians Canada, a devoted mother, an amazing cook, baker, jam/pickle/salsa-maker, seamstress, gardener, and an exceptional baba to our children. What’s more, Sarah literally saved my life on at least two occasions as she expertly guided me through two mental health crises that led me to hospital.

It’s safe to say that we were absolutely devastated when she received her lung cancer diagnosis in September 2023. Her father and brother had both died of the same disease. Still, we had hope. The first round of chemotherapy and radiation seemed to work and Sarah felt no worse for wear. We were overjoyed.

Then, all of a sudden, Sarah could barely breathe. Just a few weeks after her scan showed the tumor in her lung had shrunk, the cancer came back with a vengeance. It was the worst news — the cancer had spread to her liver and brain. Sarah was given 6-12 months to live. Then, in the early hours of Saturday, July 27th, Sarah died.

Just like that, she was gone. Like so many of you reading who have lost loved ones to cancer, we were devastated beyond words. How could such a wonderful, dynamic, passionate, steadfast, and giving person be taken from us so quickly? I still can’t believe she’s gone. It hasn’t sunken in yet. I don’t know how we’ll go on.

It was Friday, August 23rd, 2024. I was at Princess Auto Stadium with my daughter, age nine, for her first game at Princess Auto Stadium since Sarah died. As the right outfit is always my daughter’s priority, I had asked her the night before what she would wear to the game, thinking she’d have plenty of Bombers t-shirts from which to choose.

“I’m wearing baba’s mother-in-law jersey, of course,” she replied. Silly me. I hadn’t even thought of that, subconsciously assuming it wouldn’t even fit. Perhaps looking more like a dress than a jersey, it fit well enough for my daughter. Tears were streamed down my face.

The night was joyful to start, though it turned sour watching the Bombers flounder in the second half. After dismantling the B.C. Lions in a home-and-home with a defence that was seemingly impenetrable, Winnipeg looked like they were gunning for first place. Shockingly, with under two minutes to go, they were down 23-19 to the lowly Hamilton Tiger-Cats.

My daughter wearing Sarah’s jersey was a delight, but this was depressing on a night when my heart was heavy with grief for Sarah. Enter: the drive.

Zach Collaros — who had been intercepted three times, the third of which sent many fans to the exits — saved his best football for last, leading a most improbable touchdown drive. When Kenny Lawler capped it off with the go-ahead touchdown with 19 seconds left, we went absolutely wild, our celebration culminating in me lifting my daughter high in the air screaming. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.

In the midst of the jubilation, I remembered what Sarah had told me in the days leading up to her death.

“Zach, I want you to continue going to games and to take kids. I want them to love the Bombers as much as I do.” In that moment, I felt a weird mix of jubilation and profound loss that I won’t sugarcoat — if you’ve lost a loved one, you know what I mean.

I have the honour of joining my buddy Darrin Bauming postgame on Bonfire Sports to dissect every Bombers game and this year I attended my very first Labour Day Classic. It was a fun trip on the newly-minted 1930 Crew bus tour but I also felt devastated. Sarah would’ve been so excited for me — heck, she may have even attended.

Instead, she wasn’t there. I didn’t get to Facetime her from Mosaic Stadium. I didn’t get to eagerly meet up with her after the weekend to share the fun stories of all that happened.

Being near where she grew up and watching her two favourite teams, I felt her presence with me in Saskatchewan. With the two teams set to do battle again in the Banjo Bowl and the Blue Bombers back in first place in the West Division, I very well may scream, “Mother-in-law! Mother-in-law! Mother-in-law!” once again.