Showing Up Matters

Showing Up Matters

The most important thing you’ll ever bring to a cheer competition isn’t in your backpack. 

Pretty much every cheer dad has a backpack. It’s usually borrowed from your favorite athlete, so we’ll call it co-ownership.

Some are packed with shoes, a bow and a sweatshirt. Others have phone chargers, Advil, athletic tape, an extra bow, hairspray, a portable fan, and enough snacks to survive a 14-hour competition day. Mine (or “ours”) usually has all of the above—and somehow manages to gain five more pounds every time I turn around.

Over time, every Cheer Dad learns how to pack the bag. What takes a little longer to learn is what really matters.

It isn’t the backpack.

It isn’t the hotel.

It isn’t the perfect seat.

It isn’t even whether your athlete comes home with a jacket, a banner, or a medal.

The most important thing you bring to every competition…is yourself.

When you’re in the middle of a season, it’s easy to believe there will always be another competition. Another road trip. Another early morning. Another convention center. Another two and half minute routine.

Then one day, without warning, there won’t be. One competition will quietly become the last one.

You won’t know it while you’re unloading the backpack from the truck or standing in line for coffee. You won’t realize it while you’re watching warm-ups or cheering from the stands. You’ll only recognize it later, when the season has ended and the backpack has been tucked away.

And if you’re like most dads, you won’t remember where your team finished that weekend. You’ll remember watching your daughter scan the crowd until she found you.

Cheer has a way of teaching fathers something that has very little to do with cheer.

Showing up matters.

Not because you’re the loudest or because you know every score sheet. Not because you understand deductions or stunt difficulty. It matters because your daughter/son notices.

She notices when you make the drive, when you stay through awards, and she notices when you celebrate the good days—and especially when you stay close on the hard ones.

Your presence tells her something words never can: “You matter enough for me to be here.”

Years from now, your daughter probably won’t remember what shirt you wore or how many hours you spent sitting in bleachers and convention centers. She may not remember the names of every competition or every routine. But she’ll remember seeing you in the crowd.

She’ll remember the hug after a disappointing performance or even after a routine that killed it. She’ll remember laughing with you in the hotel hallway, making ridiculous TikTok videos, and she’ll remember the late-night dinner after finals.

She’ll remember that you were there.

Those moments don’t seem extraordinary while they’re happening. They become extraordinary because they’re shared.

So here’s a challenge for every Cheer Dad reading this.

At your next competition:

  • Put your phone away during her routine.
  • Learn the name of one athlete you don’t know yet.
  • Encourage another dad who’s new to this world.
  • Take one picture with your daughter—not of her.

And before you leave the venue, take a moment to simply look around and take it all in. One day you’ll wish you could.

At Cheer Dads, we believe backpacks carry gear, but fathers carry something much more valuable. Confidence. Encouragement. Security. Belonging. Memories.

Those are the things your daughter will carry long after the glitter has faded and the competitions are over. Because in the end, the greatest gift you ever gave her wasn’t what was in your backpack. It was the fact that you showed up.

Your presence is your legacy.

 


 

From Cody-

If this message resonated with you, I’d love to hear your story.

What’s one cheer memory with your daughter that you’ll never forget?

Leave a comment below or share it with us on social media using #CheerDads. Some of the best stories may even be featured in a future edition of The Clothespin.

 

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