On Being a Celebrity’s Aunt

Because I grew up in Los Angeles and attended UCLA, I’ve occasionally met a celebrity.

One of my relatives is even a close friend to a famous movie star.

When I was younger, I held them in awe–wow, a famous person–but that changed the day I parked next to a Navy pediatrician at the commissary. (Pediatricians are god-like celebrities when you have a newborn).

I was loading in my groceries when she rushed up, toddler in tow. “I don’t know what I”m going to do,” she said. “I left the whole basket of groceries in the store and ran out.”

When I glanced at the child, I saw the reason.

Fortunately, I had baby wipes and a spare diaper in the car. I started handing over the goods and earned her gratitude.

A celebrity can be normal!

I’ve  been amused by the personal life of a celebrity ever since. I loved seeing photos of President Obama and his daughters–particularly when the teenager rolled her eyes.

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be in such a family–where the famed family member draws attention wherever you go. Even if it’s your band concert people ignore you to get the attention of that celebrity.

But one weekend, I learned how proud you can feel, while having a head-shaking moment as the past overlaid the present and the celebrity was, still, the boy I’d loved for 31 years.

Members of our family traveled to Seattle to watch the Seattle Sounders soccer team open their season against the Kansas City Sporting professional soccer team.

It was a big event because Kansas City won the national championship last fall.  40,000 people attended the game with us!

Our family went for an even bigger event: my nephew started as the Kansas City goalkeeper.

After Kansas City won the national championship last fall, their goalkeeper retired. The backup goalie, Eric Kronberg, was promoted to the spot.

We were thrilled.

Eric is a great guy and waited a long time to earn this slot.

I don’t follow any soccer that doesn’t have anything to do with my nephew, and I’ve never been to Kansas City to watch his team play.

My husband and I, two of our sons, and Eric’s parents journeyed to the Emerald City to watch Eric start.

How did others in the stands know Eric?

We weren’t the only ones wearing Kansas City Sporting gear and cheering.

While we had purchased fine seats, when we arrived at the section designated for KC fans, we (because we were wearing KC hats) were directed to join them.

My husband and older son went to our seats, but the younger son and I stayed with the fans.

I thought it would be fun.

It was gloriously fun! But also awe-inspiring.

When Eric entered to warm up, the crowd around us stood and began to chant: “E-ric Kron-berg.”

How could I have been in such a fog? Of course these rabid fans would know the name of the goalie!

My son and I looked at them, amazed, and then joined in.

I nudged my son. “That’s my nephew.”

He nudged me back. “That’s my cousin.”

(As the blood relative, he won.)

All around us strangers cheered for Eric, hooted and hollered.

It was thrilling. But a little disconcerting.

A celebrity or just a boy?

The crowd screamed with excitement for a rugged 6′ 5,” 210-pound muscular athlete.

I saw him, too.

But in my mind’s eye, I also saw a snub-nosed freckled six year-old, anxiously watching between the older cousins as a they played a game.

I saw a triumphant bridegroom jumping into the air on a Mexican beach.

I remembered a joyous exclamation from my mother-in-law early one morning when the phone rang: “Eric’s here!”

Mostly, though, I thought about what a kind, loving, thoughtful, sweetheart my powerhouse and competitive nephew is.

I’m so proud of him because while he’s a great athlete, he’s a fine man.

I’m now a rabid fan.

Have I mentioned I’m his aunt?  🙂

Maybe it’s not so hard to be related to a celebrity. 🙂

(They lost the game in the last second on a team mistake, 1-0. Eric blocked four shots. At least I think that’s what they’re called . . . )

(Note: I have three nephews and nine nieces, along with assorted outlaws and adorable great-nieces. All are fine people it is a pleasure to know, love, and enjoy. Eric just happens to be the most famous.)

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