“You had me at hello.”
That’s not from “Jerry Maguire” or some meme. Not today, at least. It’s from me, talking to the Golden State Valkyries.
Even if Earth’s greatest scientists can’t measure how small of a flying rat’s ass you give about sports, bear with me for a minute. In ways big and small, the Bay Area’s WNBA team changed my life. It gave me something that so many of us need in so many parts of our lives:
A rooting interest.
Casually rooting for an expansion team is easy. It’s like seeing a kitten with bigger cats: so cute, so feisty, so trampled.
(Side note to those who lack that flying-rat’s-ass gene: An expansion team usually has lots of players whose former teams didn’t prize them enough to stop them from being drafted away. An island of misfit toys.)
If you could select one thing to symbolize the entire human experience, a WNBA expansion team might be it. One of the most brutal things in life is when someone — a spouse, a friend, a boss — doesn’t value you as much as you think they should. That’s what an expansion team is. That’s what an expansion team has to overcome.
How can you not root for that?
“Valkyries fans are fully engaged,” San Francisco Chronicle columnist Ann Killion wrote this week, comparing the mood with how glum things feel around the San Francisco Giants. “The vibe at Chase is joyous every night, lacking the hard — occasionally bordering on hostile — edge too often felt in men’s sports. The fans have found a community inside the arena, and many of them have felt overlooked or shut out by other pro sports experiences. The place is packed with kids, families, senior citizens, members of the LGBTQ community, couples on date nights. And when folks get there, they’re entertained.”
I had my first in-person view of the Valkyries last weekend and would add an “amen” to Killion’s words. (The highlight video above is from that game.) The Valkyries have basically done everything right, from attractive merch to social media savvy, from a smart coach to scrappy players. All in a place called Ballhalla.
Even picking a mascot wasn’t as cringe-worthy as it often is for other teams. The mascot for any expansion team really ought to be Sisyphus, futilely pushing a boulder uphill.
But the Valkyries don’t fit that mold. They woke up and chose Violet.
This is a team that is already the most valuable franchise in the WNBA, selling out every game. They’re scrapping their way to more victories than anyone thought possible. They might even make the playoffs. An expansion team making the playoffs is as absurd as a reality-show blowhard becoming pres—
OK. Bad example.
Anyway, they’re waaaay better than anyone thought. But as noted WNBA fan Hamlet once said, “Ay, there’s the rub.” You found yourself so smitten with that kitten that you adopted her, and she’s glorious and adorable and fully capable of scratching your favorite piece of furniture while simultaneously coughing up a hairball.
And when a big cat whaps Kitten upside the head, your heart breaks a little.
Even if our kitten leads the world in doggedness, we’re probably not watching some rom-com with a happy ending like “Jerry Maguire,” no matter how hard we root for it. As this voice in the back of your head keeps reminding you: This is a team of rejects, not stars.
Shhh.
It’s true: Trying your hardest and being a great teammate won’t make up for a lack of talent. But it will make you proud of yourself. It will brighten the lives of those around you. It will make you worth rooting for.
That’s what the Valkyries are doing. And if you’ve grown weary of cynicism in sports and in life, savor these moments. Win or lose.
If you feel like a misfit toy sometimes, draw on the Valkyries for inspiration. Maybe they won’t have you at hello, but they just might complete you.
Murphy Slaw
Something old: Magic Johnson turned 66 this week. If somehow the COVID vaccines don’t make you appreciate medicine and its miracles, Johnson’s birthday should. He announced in 1991 that he had HIV, which at that time often progressed to AIDS — then death.
People still die of AIDS, certainly, but it’s more often a life sentence than a death sentence. And Magic continues to be someone worth rooting for.
Something new: This pretty much reflects the United States of Absurdity.
Something borrowed: This is obviously a writer’s mug — I could show you the embedded coffee stains if you need more proof — and I love it because it reminds me of bonding with a dear friend who had the same mug. This Thread of supposedly the top 10 opening lines from literary works mentions several you’ll see here, including three of the list’s top five. See how many you recognize.
Something blue: Sometimes social media is worth it just for the entertainment value in the comments. Take a Thread like this:
You’ll find tons of comments here. This one pretty much sums up the entire human financial experience, circa 2025:
Fun. Having coffee this morning, I saw a woman wearing a Valkyries t-shirt. Wish I'd had your column to show her.
You’re a down-to-earth breath of healing. In a time when I fear to read the news, when there isn’t good news to be found, your column is one of survival, ideas for hanging in and even joy.
Diane