Some people are built for the spotlight, and some are simply doing their jobs—Kathleen Nimmo Lynch’s name belongs to the second kind of story. On a gray Boston morning, the Charles River looks almost metallic—still, watchful, reflective. Office lights flicker on across the city’s brick-and-glass skyline, and the machinery of professional sports begins another day of meetings, schedules, and decisions. Somewhere inside that system is Kathleen Nimmo Lynch, a name that most people never noticed—until suddenly, many did. What followed was not fame in the traditional sense, but visibility of a stranger kind: abrupt, amplified, and largely uninvited. In the…