Yes, my mom and dad were both Marquette Basketball players.
Let me be clear, however: they were players, not prodigies. Each do have their own claims to fame—my dad played alongside Doc Rivers, and my mom was Top 10 in program history for rebounding upon her graduation.
But to me, this part is minuscule. It's about so much more.
These two shaped my perspective on the program before I came to be here, writing this on the same floor of the same residence hall that my dad lived in 30 years ago.
The Marquette interest sparked in me when I was a kid.
I grew up on Cobeen lunches mid-Marquette basketball camp and sleep for dinner, tuckered out from the eight-hour days. I remember getting dropped off at the Al for that first session, mini-pinny in hand, ready to take on the day. I had so much fun that I peed my pants on the steps down to the court from laughing too hard (huge, huge shout out to the Al McGuire Center Custodial Staff of 2000-something).
I got to experience Marquette basketball not only through these camps, but my parent’s stories.
My dad's stories always tended to be my favorites, and today have become even more fun to listen to. He talks of Marc Marotta living on his floor, or the time Rick Majerus met my grandparents.
My brother, Charlie, who went through the same #MUBB conditioning process as I, held the same passion for Marquette and basketball. This definitely had in impact in his life—he went on to win a DI Wisconsin State Basketball Championship and an NCAA DIII National Championship.
My sister, bless her soul, still loved basketball despite her inability to dribble, shoot, pass, run a straight line, etc. Seeing her at the Marquette/Providence double-OT game was more than heartwarming.
Combine Marquette and basketball, two of our favorite things, and you get a group of people in blue and gold, doing the thing they love and loving the thing they do. Marquette basketball tied together every bit of my family and, as a result, every bit of the things I loved.
My parents never shoved basketball down my throat. They just put a ball in my hand, and Marquette in my head. They did not have to convince me to love Marquette basketball. The love for it came naturally, as it does for so many. They showed me the greatness of Marquette basketball almost 15 years before I even experienced it as a Marquette student—and yes, I’ve dreamed of Marquette since I was a little tyke.
I’m no Marquette basketball player, although I found myself reminiscing (and rendering my escape from Marquette basketball impossible) as I joined the club team and now work for Marquette Athletics Media Relations.
Yet from the mini-pinny days, Marquette basketball has meant three things to me:
1. Family, by the blood in my veins;
2. Passion, by the fascination its withheld in me;
3. Success, by the place it has brought me.
Marquette basketball, thank you for first stealing my parent’s talents and then my heart. You’re a special program that brought together created my family, and I can’t thank you enough.
To my both my Marquette fam and blood-relatives: We are—always have been; always will be—Marquette.
*And to my beautiful family and parents—my role model, Cliff "Charlie" Fischer, and guardian angel, Jill Anson Fischer—I love you both tremendously.
