Jinxing sports teams-- don't tempt the sports gods

So, the Red Sox blew a game against the sadly underperforming White Sox last night. This, after bludgeoning them the night before. And after a compelling performance against Atlanta the night before that. Fans: Yay, they are hitting! Awesome! Announcers: "the hard-hitting Sox..."

Jinxed. 

I have a hard time getting openly excited or proud of any team I support, mainly because I know how fast that changes-- especially in New England, right? Just like the weather? It's a hold-over, a regional fatalism, that is somewhat linked to old Puritan beliefs. At least, that's my theory, and I'm not the only one to hold that theory close. It's too seductive to say, hey, my team is awesome, they'll beat anybody. Because then they don't. 

I blame the announcers. They get running on about this player or that, how amazing they are, what their stats are (listening to Youk: "exit velo")-- and then they stink up the park like week-old tuna. The pundits run hot on a team, and all of a sudden they are in a slump. The White Sox broke their fourteen game losing stretch (more than a streak) last night, and I'm blaming the talking heads in the booth. 

The same goes for special occasion celebrations before games. O, let's honor the 2004 Sox...and then the team deflates that day. Papi is in the booth? yeah... no one hits. And this is not just about baseball-- it was a really nice run for the Patriots, until it wasn't. Blew a bunch of sunshine Mac's way, and he crumpled like a bad report card on the last day of school. And the Bruins-- dangitall, they had a great season, two years running here, and splat. Season over before the popcorn was ready.

So this is why I'm not watching the Celtics. I mean, I don't anyhow; I've never gotten all that excited about freakishly tall people running around in flappy shorts and slipping in sweat puddles. But still, I'll keep an ear out for the scores. 

When Meg was playing competitive softball, I held my breath for every pitch, every game I went to. And I went to all of them, from little kid ball until the end of high school. I didn't get to see a lot of the college games because, for whatever odd reason, most of them are played in either southern New England or Maine. Not easy to get to. But the ones I was at, I held my breath, every pitch. It is all part of the no-jinx mentality. 

I think it's got to do with speaking things into being, or tempting the sports gods, or something like that. Hubris on the part of the spectator. I used to get so annoyed with the foolish dugout cheers when Meg was younger, not just because they were stupid and distracting, and often became the focus instead of the game for some young players, but more because sending up such attitude to the sports gods seemed to tempt fate:

"Strawberry shortcake, banana split...we make your team look like ----"

I'd rather hold my breath.

Sox are on at 4:10.

Have a good one,

C