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.
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