I’m taking a break from the blogging hiatus to say, wow, the Red Sox are World Series champions once again.
I don’t mean to gloat. If Facebook is any meter, I realize many of you are “sick” of the Red Sox winning “all the time.” I get it. Three titles in ten years is not too shabby. But it’s still hard to undo decades of suffering, passed from generation to generation of New Englanders. I recall a conversation 16 years ago when my friends Amy and Thom announced they were pregnant, and Thom said, “I want a girl, but I won’t get one because my teams never win.” (As a matter of fact, they did have a girl.) I share this example to illustrate how New Englanders think. Three World Series titles will help in our collective recovery but you can’t just shed overnight a mentality built on a foundation of disappointment after disappointment.
With that said, on my drive in to work this morning I thought to myself, I just have to accept it. We fully put to rest any lingering impacts of the Curse of the Bambino with our first World Series clinch in Boston since 1918. We are the 21st century’s answer to the decade in the 20th century when the Sox won titles in 1912, 1915, 1916, and 1918. Maybe it isn’t a jink to say “I think my team is going to win tonight.” Would the outcome of last night’s game been any different if I had gone to bed in the 7th inning? Worn a different color bra? Gone to the game in person?
Of course the answer is no, but if 80 years from now, the Sox are in a drought rivaled only by the one we endured until 2004, I take full responsibility.