Upon Further Review

When you spend a lot of your time sitting in butt-numbing bleachers at high schools watching basketball, volleyball and baseball games, you start to meet some of the fans. Few fans were as noticeable as Marian Quesenbery, or “Granny Q” as I came to know her. Sadly, Granny Q - one of Waynesboro’s biggest fans and supporter of all sports—died Thursday. It left a huge hole in the collective heart of Giantdom.

But we’re not going to sit here and type up all the things that could have been if she were still here. We won’t sit back and wish upon countless stars that we will walk into that gym come the fall for a volleyball game and see her still sitting in her lawn chair in the corner. We know that’s not going to happen (sadly). Instead, I’ll choose to celebrate the life of the ultimate Little Giant. We talked a lot folks, she from Gary, Ind., and I from Chicago immediatly gave us a lot in common and the one thing I noticed is we had similar senses of humor (though she wasn’t a fan of bathroom jokes, at least not that I could tell) and laughed at the same things.

Her grandson, Andrew Quesenbery, played his JV soccer game the night she died, and even scored his first goal of the season. Why? Because he knew that’s what she would have wanted him to do. So I’m going to write what I think Granny Q would have wanted me to write and would laugh about in her lawn chair.

1) The left-leg kick. When things weren’t going well for the Little Giants, let’s say a small error or something that gave up a point in volleyball, Granny Q would kick out her left leg, scowl and mumble something under her breath. She did this countless times, but caught me right in the small of the back when I watched the 2005 Little Giants volleyball team beat New Kent in the first round of the Group AA tournament at Waynesboro.
“Darn it, Granny,“ I said (everybody called her Granny). “Watch those hoofs.“
“Seiko (she butchered my last name, which is all she called me, all the time),“ she said. “Just be glad you’re not sitting facing me.“

2) The left-leg kick, arm-rest slam combo. Granny Q saved this for what she would call “dumb” plays from Little Giants who knew better. Let’s say Morgan Fox put up a weak set (which she hardly ever did) or Jessi Vint’s kill attempt went into the net instead of tattooing “Spalding” on an opponent’s forehead. She would kick that left leg out (missing me, this time) and push her fists into the arm rests of her chair.
“Come on [girl’s last name here],“ she said. “You’re better than that.“
“Granny,“ I replied. “You think you could do better?“
She smiled at me. “If I had my walker with me, maybe.“

3) The lift off. Occasionally a play was good enough to get Granny Q’s butt off her seat. It happened too often for me to pick out just one time so I don’t have any specifics (you know, the who, what, when, where and the like), but it was always tough to tell if she cleared the chair completely thanks to her habit of wrapping her lower body in a blanket when she was at volleyball matches. My guess is, it was more of butt bounce than anything else. (I’ve used the word “butt” three times which, for some reason made her laugh when I said it. Probably because I stopped myself from using another not-so-nice word when she was around and substituted it with “butt,“ but I’m just guessing here). But it was always a laugh-out-loud sight to see.

4) The lift-off, left-leg-kick, arm-rest-slam combo. Usually reserved for referees that made a questionable call. Case and point, the 2006 Little Giants’ tiebreaker match against R.E. Lee at Fort Defiance. A match-swinging call against the Giants came when they were making a run. The ball was clearly in. The back judge called it out. Granny Q could barely contain herself and kicked her left leg, slammed her arm rest and bounced just a bit off her seat. (Of course she was scowling and, yes, she mumbled something under her breath. Did you really need to ask?)
“That was in,“ she said to me. She never yelled at the refs.
“I’m not sure,“ I said. “He’s got a better view than us.“
“Oh, be quiet. What do you know?“

5) The smile. Which is all she did when Sarah Coffey jumped into Cynthia Atkins’ arms when the Little Giants beat New Kent and advanced to the Final Four in Roanoke. Our photographer, Rosanne Weber, captured that moment in time with her camera. A beautiful photo that I put in my scrapbook. I wish I has a point-and-shoot with me. Granny Q’s reaction, that huge smile, was just as magical.

I would have liked to say goodbye, but that’s just me being selfish. A way we all tend to greet death. We’re still the ones paying the bills, getting sick, paying four bucks for gas. The only reason we’re upset is because she’s not with us anymore. See, it’s all about us. I try to celebrate the life instead of mourning the loss. Just like her grandkids—Andrew, Sara, Haley and Logan Quesenbery—did on Friday. When tears gave way to laughs and smiles as they talked about her trick boxes, getting sent out for candy around Easter and her sitting in that lawn chair.

When my beloved grandfather died, Mom had to yell at my sister and I to “GO TO SLEEP!“ because we were up laughing about the man we called “Father” at 2 a.m. We laughed even harder because I was 20, she was 33 and we just got yelled at by our Mom. (I’m kidding, she was only 22.)

Like her old friend Bette Meeteer said Friday, Ganny Q didn’t want to be old and sick and in a wheelchair. Who does?

Where did Granny Q go? Well, that’s up to you and what you believe. Either way, it’s got to be a better place. Right? And, at the very least, she’s got the best seat in the house for the volleyball and basketball games she loved so much.

You know, when I first started as a sports writer many moons ago, my first boss put it on the line for me. He told me there’s no cheering in the press box (duh!), there’s no getting all buddy-buddy with coaches and be tough but fair.

He never told me that, after spending a whole day hunting down and talking to four very sad grandchildren, I couldn’t sit on the couch at home all night, put my own head in my hands and realize that I’m going to miss her too. Because, that’s the truth. She was awesome.

She put my arm in a death grip more times that I can count when I wrote something she didn’t like. The first time I met her wasn’t pleasant, I spelled her soccer-player granddaugther’s name “Sara Quesenberry.“ She came by our old office and really let me have it. I spelled her grandchildren’s last names right from that point on and, the following week, she called to thank me.

She gave me so much gruff for stuff over my almost six years here I could have made a scrapbook full of phone calls and in-person coversations. But, you know, she never held it against me. “But I still like reading it,“ she said after I wrote something she didn’t agree with.

One time she went back home to Gary, Ind., and stopped by the office before she left. “I’m heading up our way, what do you want?“ she asked. A couple of days before at a basketball game, we were talking about how much we missed good Polish sausage. (Come on, people. If you know some place around here to get some, let me know.) So I pulled out 20 bucks and told her I would love some Polish sausage. A week later she stopped by the office with the sausage and my 20 spot.

“Granny Q,“ I told her. “You have to take this, otherwise I can’t accept the sausage. And I really want the sausage, so take the money.“

She refused.

“Please, Granny,“ I pleaded. “If you don’t take the money, I’m going to get in trouble. So take the money.“

“Fine,“ she said and took the money back. I saw her at a basketball game about a month later and she called me over.

“I have something for you,“ she said as she handed me an envelope.

I poured its contents into my hand. She had cut that 20-dollar bill into a million pieces.

“There, now nobody is getting in trouble,“ she said with a smile. “So, how were those sausages?“

Sigh, Granny Q.

I’ve shared my thoughts, now share yours. Put your memories of Granny Q in the comments section. Every school has that granny at games. Heck, go to a Buffalo Gap football game or Riverheads basketball game and there are enough dentures in the crowd to supply the whole state of Florida for a week. But Granny Q was yours, Giantdom. And she loved every second of it.