Most of the crowd filtered out of Xfinity Center as the band blasted the alma mater, but Andrea Kimbrough remained in her seat four rows back in section 103. For guard Shatori Walker-Kimbrough’s mother, this is the best part of every Terrapins women’s basketball game.

Not because she loves to stand up and sing along. It’s more because of what the routine means: The game is finally over.

Moments after the Terps’ 83-77 win Thursday, two women from the Rebounders, the program’s official booster organization, spotted Kimbrough as they walked toward the tunnel. “You survived?” one woman joked.

It didn’t take long for the next passerby, coach Brenda Frese’s husband, Mark, to ask Kimbrough the same question.

Kimbrough drives more than four hours from her home in Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, to see her daughter play at Xfinity Center, but more often than not, Kimbrough isn’t in the stands. She’s too nervous to sit in her seat. So she usually parks herself on a couch in the concourse level, following the game by the crowd noise.

“I’m so scared she’s going to break something,” Kimbrough said. “She’s so skinny.”

It wasn’t always like this.

When Walker-Kimbrough was growing up, Kimbrough would sit in on her only child’s piano lessons. They would ride bikes together. And Kimbrough loved to attend her daughter’s volleyball matches and watch her compete in the triple jump at track meets — Walker-Kimbrough’s other two high school sports.

“I could watch her jump all day long,” Kimbrough said. “That’s more my speed.”

But Kimbrough was never among the parents in the crowd at Walker-Kimbrough’s high school basketball games. Walker-Kimbrough said it began her freshman year when she started alongside four seniors.

Her mom wasn’t ready for the increased competition and physicality, Walker-Kimbrough said, and it began affecting her.

So Kimbrough became the president of the boosters at Hopewell. She spent Walker-Kimbrough’s games handing out programs or working in the concessions stands. She was everywhere but the bleachers.

A small glass window on the wooden door to the gymnasium, though, provided a sliver of space for Kimbrough to peer through if she built up the courage to check in on her daughter. Walker-Kimbrough remembers running out in transition sometimes and seeing her mother’s face peeking in from behind the single-pane window.

Then she’d disappear.

“I knew she was always in there somewhere,” Walker-Kimbrough said. “I just didn’t know where she was.”

When Walker-Kimbrough committed to join the Terps and play under Frese, it meant Kimbrough had to find a new spot to watch the games. It’s tough for Kimbrough, who works as a probation officer in Pennsylvania, to make it to all the Terps’ home games, so she tries to attend at least one per month.

Guard Shatori Walker-Kimbrough performs a crossover on a defender during the Terps’ 83-77 victory against Wisconsin on Feb. 25, 2016, at Xfinity Center. (Marquise McKine/The Diamondback)

For the road games and home contests she can’t make, she usually has her television tuned in. But her eyes are rarely fixed on the screen.

She washes dishes or does the laundry. Sometimes she’ll run errands to Rite-Aid or Wal-Mart.

“There is 24 hours in a day,” Walker-Kimbrough said. “There is plenty of other times she can go to Wal-Mart, but she decides to go during game time.”

When the Terps played at Rutgers on Feb. 21, Kimbrough was outside cleaning her car down the stretch. A neighbor stopped by to tell Kimbrough “Good game,” and she had to ask who had won.

The Terps did, 73-59, thanks to a team-high 21 points from her daughter.

A year ago, Walker-Kimbrough had suffered a bloody nose in a game against the Scarlet Knights. So Kimbrough couldn’t bring herself to watch the rematch.

“That kind of kicked my asthma up,” Kimbrough said.

It only gets worse when March rolls around. The Terps advanced to the Final Four in each of Walker-Kimbrough’s first two years in College Park, meaning Kimbrough had to deal with five elimination games each year — not to mention back-to-back conference tournament championships.

“I hate March Madness,” said Kimbrough, who plans to attend the first two rounds of the NCAA Tournament.

During the Terps’ 81-58 loss to eventual national champion Connecticut in the Final Four last season, Kimbrough spent the game sitting on the floor in the lobby.

It was her daughter’s first loss in 29 games.

“I got a nice quiet corner and collected my thoughts,” Kimbrough said.

There have been games this year in which she’s been able to watch all 40 minutes. Some by choice. Some not.

When she attended the Terps’ game against UConn at Madison Square Garden, she was trapped in the middle of a row behind the bench. She couldn’t escape during the 83-73 defeat.

But when Walker-Kimbrough dropped a career-best 41 points — one shy of the program record — at Purdue on Feb. 2, her mom willingly watched the whole contest with about 10 co-workers at Zooky’s Sports Tavern in Pennsylvania.

“She was like, ‘Oh, this is your new standard,'” Walker-Kimbrough recalled her mom telling her after her performance. “I was like, ‘Mom, I can’t score 40 every game.'”

In the most recent game Kimbrough attended — Thursday’s win over Wisconsin, during which Walker-Kimbrough dropped a game-high 27 points — she kept to herself in the corner of section 103.

Shatori Walker-Kimbrough’s mom, Andrea Kimbrough, sits in her seat during the Terps’ 83-77 win over Wisconsin on Feb. 25. at Xfinity Center(Marquise McKine/The Diamondback)

She was overcome by a wave of emotion. When the Terps fell behind 22-13 in the first quarter, she considered climbing the stairs to the concourse.

“I was actually thinking about her during that time,” Walker-Kimbrough said. “I can only imagine what she was going through.”

A quarter later, when Walker-Kimbrough buried one of her five 3-pointers, her mom raised both hands toward the rafters before standing up and clapping. Kimbrough’s a vocal fan when she’s in her seat, even if that’s a rare sight.

After years of seeing her mom only occasionally peek through the glass door in her high school gym, Walker-Kimbrough has gotten used to it. And even though they live four hours apart, their relationship hasn’t weakened.

When Walker-Kimbrough returns to Aliquippa, they still go on walks together. And Kimbrough still makes her daughter dribble a basketball as they go.

“I know she misses me a lot. I play for her,” Walker-Kimbrough said. “I always ask myself, ‘How does one give back to the person that gave you life?’ Like I just want to do it for her. To hear her say that she’s proud of me, that’s the best feeling ever.”

As Walker-Kimbrough trotted toward the tunnel to the locker room at halftime Thursday, she looked up to her mom in the stands who was shouting, “All right, 32.”

Walker-Kimbrough pointed to her mom, who was wearing a black shirt bedazzled with silver jewels that read “Shatori Mom” on the back over the No. 32.

Kimbrough smiled and pointed back.

“We’re really close,” Walker-Kimbrough said. “She’s like my best friend.”