Superstitions

Everyone has some superstitions. Whether it's how you walk, where you drive, what you say to your wife before you leave in the morning, etc ... we all have them. I'm willing to bet that 99% of us don't really believe the superstitions we partake in, but we do them out of that inkling of doubt and the "what if" and "just in case" nerves in the back of our necks and brains.

This is more true than ever when it comes to sports fans. Sports players might top us (see Wade Boggs eating before a game and Patrick Roy entering and exiting the ice), but then again they might not. We have traditions we stick to. Something we did once that lead to a win, and we're afraid that if we don't, our team will lose and we'll be at fault. It's another way of involving ourselves in the game, but this time it only comes at a catastrophic price. There is no reward, there is only punishment. No one runs around yelling "Ohio State won against Michigan because I'm wearing the same underpants I was wearing when they announced the hiring of Jim Tressel!". But someone, somewhere, was thinking to themselves "man, I always make homemade buckeyes for Ohio State Games, and I bought store made ones this time. If I hadn't done that, we would have beaten Florida and we'd be the reining champs!"

I'm far from exempt from this. Back in the run to Super Bowl XL, Pittsburgh got an improbable win over Cincy in Cincy in the wild card round. I was wearing my smaller brown corduroy pants, my original Pacman boxers, and my green Monty Python shirt. A week later, it's Pittsburgh vs. Indianapolis, and all the above mentioned clothing is clean. So I wear it again. And Pittsburgh pulls the upset that no one outside of Merrill Hoge picked on television. The following week on Saturday I look in the closet, and discover the clothing is not there, and is in fact, dirty. So I beg with Rachel to wash them. She does, and I wear them that following Sunday. Pittsburgh defeats Denver. And there's no need to ask what I wore on Super Bowl Sunday, is there?

Now, I know deep down inside that if you asked me rationally, I would tell you that my choice of clothing had nothing to do with the Steelers winning Super Bowl XL. But, somewhere else down there, in the pit of my stomach and grabbing at the back of my neck is an inkling of doubt that says "don't risk it". That says that maybe all things are equal, and the "sports gods" are looking around, seeing which sports fans are respecting them most, and giving victory to their team. Again, rationally, I don't believe this, but emotionally, I don't want to risk it.

Fast forward to present days. The Indians are in the playoffs, facing the (hated) New York Yankees in the first round of the playoffs. For game one, I headed to Ryan's house, and brought a pot of Cincy-style Chili with all the fixings. I enjoyed two four-ways w/bean as I watched the Indians pummel the Yanks. The next night was game two. I heated up the leftovers, again had two portions, and survived the extra-inning nail-biter the Indians won. Last night was game three. The Indians were leading 3-0 when I got home from jOURney and Wal-Mart. I made Rachel and I dinner: fiesta hamburgerittos, scalloped potatoes, and California Blend. The Indians lost the game.

Any guess on what I'm eating during the game tonight? I only hope it's not too late and the sports gods haven't already considered me lost. I'd hate to see the Indians lose this series. And I'd hate to have even a small, irrational part of me think it was my fault.