Something Will Happen, or Spot a Red Sox Fan by His Pessimism in Just Three Easy Steps

Red Sox fans are some of the most loyal and can't-get-me-down fans in American sports. They sit through late nights, sure that one of these days their team will win it all. They turn their "rally caps" inside-out. They talk to their televisions as if the players are close friends: "Oh, come on, Manny! . . . Yeah, Ortiz! Way to save the day yet again." So, yeah, this behavior really isn't all that different from other sports fans, but there's something that gets lost in text, a feeling--a buzz in the air--that you really have to experience first-hand to understand.

But there's something else that happens during Red Sox games: pessimism. This isn't a typical "they won't win" pessimism; in fact, it's somewhat the opposite. No matter how well the team is doing, some outside influence must swoop in and remove the players' agency and free will and turn the game. Some people call it The Curse, brought about when the Sox sold Babe Ruth's contract to the Yankees in 1918, but I think of it more as The Resignation. "Something will happen to mess it all up, but if I believe (http://www.cafepress.com/redsoxnation) hard enough, maybe--just maybe--fate will smile on me, on us, and we'll be able to pull it out." [Maybe a fairy or two will be brought back to life in the process.]

Every Sox fan seems to think that he or she holds the fate of the team in her thoughts/hands/actions. Like a batter going through the same routine before stepping up to the plate, fans wear the same hats, underwear, shirts and sit in the same places. My father turned down free tickets on several occasions because the Red Sox never won a single live game that he went to and he didn't want to curse them. If you were to go to Fenway Park one night and ask every fan to raise his or her hand if s/he felt guilty for doing something to cause the 1986 loss when the ball went through Bill Buckner's legs, my bet is that a majority would raise their hands. The others would either be too young (like me) to remember or would be lying. My English teacher my senior year in high school told us the story of how he sent his son to bed because the Red Sox lost every single game his son ever watched on TV. Feeling guilty, he woke his son toward the end of the game to let him watch the Red Sox win and walked back into the room just at the precise second that Bucker's error occurred. He still blames himself (13 years later at the time he told the story) for the loss because he was the one who brought his son into the room.

Imagine how Bill Buckner must feel.

I guess my point is that I feel very bad for these players. No matter how hard they work, they will never get the full credit they deserve. If (when) they win the Series, if they do not win next year, even more will be taken from them. The Curse was meant to be broken during the 100th playing of the World Series, and there's no reason to expect a follow-up, repeat win. I anticipate that the fans will simply assume that they cannot win again but will continue to hope and pray that they will.

Truthfully, I must admit that I, too, am guilty of all that I talk about. Even as the last pitch hit the catcher's mitt in game 7 of this year's Yankees/Sox playoff series, I still held my breath, certain that somehow the Yankees would come back. I mean, a Yankees comeback was just bound to happen. Even after the game was over and the Red Sox were pronounced the winners, I kept waiting for George Steinbrenner to pull a South Korea and insist that the gold was given to the wrong person because of faulty scoring or bad calls. The shoe has never dropped.

Tonight is Game 4 of the 2004 World Series. The Sox lead the St. Louis Cardinals 3-0. Even though I know that I personally hold no sway over the outcome of the game, I will feel horrible come tomorrow if they lose tonight, certain that somehow my putting these words into writing has had an influence. I think all of this must go back in some way to Massachusetts being a Puritan-influenced place. Blue laws, anyone?

So, I'm going to try something different: I'm going to have faith in the skills of the Red Sox. These men have trained long and hard--their whole lives even--for this moment. Ortiz is a powerhouse. Johnny Damon can get it done when he needs to do so. Pedro, Schilling, Foulke, Wakefield, Lowe, Varitek: need I say more? (I even think Arroyo is great, clearly just a bucket of nerves when he gets on the plate--always looks like he's about to vomit--but has great potential and has sent a few real zingers to Varitek). I'm putting my faith in their skills and in their abilities to perform.

Go, Sox!!!