The Super Bowl attracted the attention of millions of viewers not only from the States but beyond. In the center of attention were certainly Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce, whose love is blossoming in front of the eyes of their many fans, but other celebs also made impressions, including Reba McEntire and Usher, among the rest.
The Charmed star Alyssa Milano and her son were also spotted among the crowd. And as much as seeing a mother and her child bonding and having the time of their life together, their photo at the Super Bowl caused quite a stir on the social media.
The reason why is that just a couple of days prior to the game, Milano started a GoFundMe page to raise money for her son’s baseball team that was supposed to travel to Cooperstown, New York.
“Any amount would be so greatly appreciated. You can read more about the team and make a donation,” she wrote on X.
The fundraiser sought for $10,000 and encouraged people to donate to the “diverse, hardworking and really good” 12U team.
Given her net worth, the backlash of her asking for donation and then posing at the Super Bowl was harsh.
“Alyssa is worth a reported $10 million. And look, having traveled to 3 tournaments last summer in 3 different cities in 3 different states, I get it. It’s beyond expensive. But to ask for donations here given her worth and the fact her husband is a CAA agent is really something,” one user wrote at the time.
“Alyssa Milano needs our help, guys!!! This is serious!! Let’s dig deep,” another user quipped on X.
“I remember when raising money for an extracurricular trip actually meant EARNING money for the trip. You know, car washes, bake sales, recycling drives. Kids actually working for it,” someone else said.
Netizens had a lot to say about Milano’s Super Bowl showing.
“How can he get to the game and you request money to take his team to Cooperstown? How out of touch are you,” one person on Instagram asked.
Another asked: “Is this why you created the Go Fund Me? To get you and your kid to the Super Bowl?”
“Damn. Probably could have spent that money one [sic] your son’s baseball team, huh?” another said. “But what do I know.”
Milano answered back and posted a strongly-worded statement after people started targeting her son’s Instagram.
Every parent raises money for their child’s sports teams and many of them do so through GoFundMe. I am no different,” Milano explained.
“As much as I’d love to pay for the entire team and their families for travel, transportation, hotel, food and beverage, uniforms, trading pins, and all the things teams do for this kind of trip—I can not afford to do so. Maybe someday. Also, if I did pay for everyone—my trolls would find something else to be hurtful about.
“Regardless of how you feel about me, going on to my hardworking 12 year old son’s Instagram page and leaving these kinds of messages is so horrid. Leave the kids alone,” the actress added. “Let them play baseball. If you are against donating—don’t donate. If you’d like to donate to help the team’s families — we appreciate it—the link is in his bio.”
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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