Long Live The Curse!

Long Live The Curse!
by Martell

I do not want the Red Sox to win the World Series. Don't take this the wrong way--it's not that I dislike the Red Sox, or wish sorrow for their fans. Not only do I like their team, I also admire their GM Theo Epstein, and I bow down to the writing genius that is Bill Simmons. In fact, being a Padres fan, if there was any one team I should be rooting against, it would be the Yankees. (The wounds of the 1998 World Series may never heal...) Then why, you may ask, am I not rooting for Boston? It's because I have an allegiance far greater than my hatred for the Yankees. It's because I'm a curse fan.

This isn't just about the Red Sox. It's about curses everywhere, from Chicago to New York to Florida and beyond. Wherever there are teams that have a long and storied tradition of losing, teams that continuously find new and unusual ways to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, that is where my rooting interest lies. I will always be pulling for that improbable streak to continue. Here are my reasons why:

1. It's about history.

I love history, and curses are all about history. The longer the curse, the richer the history. The way these stories get passed down from generation to generation is the way all history used to be taught, back when people actually knew things (Ken Jennings notwithstanding). Nowadays, kids only study history when required to--rarely remembering any of it--and it's been like that for a while. It seems like every year there's another poll where 79% of Americans don't know who Lewis and Clark were or who the 16th president of the U.S. was or something crazy like that. But everybody knows who Babe Ruth was. Which leads me to my next reason:

2. It's about passion.

Curses make people care more about their teams than they otherwise would. Don't believe me? Let's take a trip back to the summer of 1994. That was the year the New York Rangers made it to the Stanley Cup finals. They hadn't won the Cup since 1940, and facing elimination in the Eastern Conference finals, Mark Messier guaranteed a victory in Game 6. The Rangers won that game, won again in Game 7, and headed off to face Vancouver. Rangers fans everywhere were going crazy, and even non-Rangers fans got swept up in the excitement. People I knew that didn't even watch hockey were rooting for New York. And when New York won Game 7 and took home Lord Stanley's Cup, the cameras panned to a fan holding a sign that read, "Now I Can Die In Peace."

And since then, nothing. There has been nary a word from Rangers fans. No more anxiously awaiting the start of the season, hoping this will finally be "the year." They had their year 10 years ago and they don't care any more, at least not like they used to. Even when the next season started that fall, people weren't into the Rangers like they were just four months earlier. The curse was gone, and so was their passion. God forbid that should happen to Red Sox fans.

3. It's about community.

Going to Wrigley Field is an amazing experience. There is an atmosphere at a Cubs game that I've never experienced anywhere else (I haven't been to Fenway yet). People there live and die with the Cubs, but the beauty of it is that they do it together. After the game, the surrounding neighborhood becomes one big tailgate party, with everyone talking about the game, the team, the season. Even outside of Chicago, Cubs fans are a community, a fellowship bound together by their mutual disappointment and resilience in maintaining hope.

Contrast that with the White Sox. There isn't one-tenth the sense of kinship among fans of that team. And outside Chicago, the only place I see White Sox hats are in early 90's rap videos. Of course, they HAVE won a championship more recently than the Cubs, so maybe they just haven't had time to regain their passion yet. Let's see...the Cubs last won way back in 1908, while the White Sox last won in...1917. (By the way, that was one year before Boston's last championship. That's right: the White Sox have had a longer dry spell than the Red Sox.)

Same city, same torturous history, completely different sense of community. The difference is the curse.

4. It's about character.

Adversity builds character. We've all heard that since we were kids. Of course we don't like it, but that doesn't mean it's bad. That's why our parents forced us to clean our rooms and eat our Brussels sprouts. It's why we had to wear braces and glasses and shoes we didn't like. It was our parents' job to prepare us to live life on our own, comfort and pride be damned.

Well, fans of cursed teams know more about life than anyone else. They've learned how to deal with disappointment and failure. They've learned to be philosophical about these sorts of things. They never get spoiled. Instead, they've learned to appreciate the small victories, like a properly executed sacrifice or a half-price beer. Because of this, fans of cursed teams are more well-equipped to deal with the harsh reality that is the world in which we live. In fact, they're just better people than everyone else.

Of course, they all act like deranged sanitarium escapees when they're at the stadium, but I mean aside from that.

5. It's about order.

This may be the most important reason of all. For Red Sox and Cubs fans, losing is part of reality. It is part of what defines their very essence. As long as this is so, all is right with the world. But if that were to suddenly change, there is no telling what type of psychological damage they would suffer; schizophrenia at the least, and probably much worse.

To put it in perspective, imagine waking up Sunday morning, going outside, getting the newspaper, opening it up, and seeing Charlie Brown kicking a football being held by Lucy. I mean actually making contact. And Lucy smiling. You would think you had lost your mind, right? Well, this is exactly the same thing. For Red Sox and Cubs fans, winning a championship would call into question everything they know to be true, and that would just be too much for them to take. I mean, Boston and Chicago are home to some of the top business schools in America. I'm not sure our economy could withstand the loss of brainpower. Our children's future depends on this.

So the next time you see the Buffalo Bills letting another Super Bowl victory slip away, Florida State missing a game-winning kick against Miami, or the Red Sox being eliminated from the playoffs, don't feel sorry for those teams or their fans. Just remind yourself, "It's a blessing, not a curse."

Martell can be reached at martell@babblog.com.