At the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word convent near Broadway in San Antonio, a tight-knit group of women finds joy and connection in the local NBA team. Sisters such as Kathleen Coughlin, Francine Keane and Bette Bluhm mix prayer, banter and game nights, and even Victor Wembanyama comes up in their conversations as the Spurs carry the city’s attention.
The sisters say faith and fandom coexist easily in their daily life. “We pray for everybody, and of course, the Spurs are part of that group,” said Sister Kathleen Coughlin. That line between spiritual care and civic pride feels natural when the team is woven into neighborhood rhythms and family stories.
Humor softens the line between prayer and play. When someone asked if prayers were aimed especially at Victor Wembanyama, Sister Francine Keane laughed, “Especially Wemby,” before Sister Kathleen Coughlin replied, “No, don’t say that. They’re a team, they’re together. You’re gonna set up competition for prayers.” Their teasing shows how seriously they take both respect and shared fun.
Sister Bette Bluhm stands out as the convent’s most fervent Spurs supporter. “I never miss a game. I always watch the game,” Bluhm said, describing a ritual that organizes her afternoons and links her to fans across San Antonio. Her room is a small shrine to those routines, full of gear, printed schedules and personal notes.
Keeping score the old-fashioned way matters to Bluhm. “Yeah, I write the score for each game,” Bluhm said, and the handwritten ledger is more than data; it’s a record of seasons, close calls and memorable nights. Tracking those numbers becomes storytelling, a way to relive games and pass on memories to visitors who ask about a particular play or player.
>The sisters see something civic and human in the team’s makeup. “They truly model teamness and togetherness,” Sister Kathleen Coughlin said, using language that could apply as easily to sisterhood as to sports. For them, the Spurs are an example of collaboration, humility and steady effort—values that echo the convent’s daily life.
Fandom here is less about merchandising and more about belonging. Bluhm’s connection to the Spurs goes back years, rooted in the city’s culture and the comfort of a familiar tradition. “I’ve just been attached to the whole experience of being a Spurs fan,” Bluhm said, and that attachment carries weight beyond wins and losses.
Game nights bring people into the convent’s common room and spur conversations that bridge generations. Younger relatives drop by to watch while older sisters offer commentary and a running tally of stats. Those gatherings make the convent feel like another small corner of San Antonio where neighbors meet, cheer and commiserate together.
The convent’s approach to sports is quietly civic: cheering for the Spurs also feels like cheering for the city. Whether discussing a roster move or savoring a buzzer-beater, the sisters practice attentiveness and shared emotion in a space usually reserved for quieter rituals. It’s a reminder that sports can be a communal language, one that helps knit different parts of a city into a single conversation.
There’s a simple dignity in the way these women follow the team—devoted but not obsessive, prayerful but playful. Their fandom honors the human side of competition and anchors the Spurs to everyday life in San Antonio, from living rooms to convents. Across seasons and storylines, the sisters keep watching, writing, praying and laughing together.
