First the Pats lost to the Bills for the first time in 15 consecutive games….yeah, seriously. Now the Bosox are teetering on the edge of playoff elimination. The flop-pocalypse is nearly complete. Who will save us now?
With two games left in the regular season, the Red Sox are back to square f*$king one, tied with the same record as the Tampa Bay Rays. This was a team that prior to Hurricane Irene, had 9 games on Tampa Bay and were a lock for the Wild Card. But apparently the real damage wasn’t done to our cities and town, but to our beloved sports teams.
In fact, the Red Sox have have gone 7-20 since “Irene ravaged” the East Coast. Since then the Sox starters have compiled an ERA above 7.00, worst in the majors. Were these the winds of change blowing in from Irene or was this an omen? It got me thinking: what is behind this epic collapse (one of the worse in baseball history)? Then it hit me:
We’ve angered the New England sports Gods!
After a miracle-like Boston Bruins Stanley Cup title, the Patriots’ Draft Day Extravaganza and the Red Sox acquisition of not one, but two 100 million-plus contracts to sluggers, we were sure this was OUR year. Possible quadfecta among the Bruins, Pats, Celts and Sox. F the Yankees, we used a payroll to outspend, and supposedly outclass every other team by talent and skill alone. But as a result, we’ve grown arrogant and expecting of victory.
I admit it. I’ve forgotten what it’s been like as a die-hard New England sports fan. The agony mixed with hope and desperation. Cub’s fans back me up on this one. To love your team is to love misery.
Gone are the days hoping for that Championship Banner or that World Series win. Forgotten are moments of deep prayer, deals with God (or the Devil), and of course, Stephen King’s voodoo hex on A-rod in the ALCS. Life has been good to us in the greater Boston area and we’ve moved away from our blue-collar, never-say-die roots.
We, New England, have turned are backs on the sports gods and now we’re paying for our insolence. Save us, JEBUS!
With two games left, and Erik “They got me from Seattle…enough said” Beddard takes the mound as our last attempt at redemption. Life gets worse before it gets a whole lot better, and maybe this rock-bottom low is the kick in the ass the Sox need to make it into the playoffs (knock on wood) and tear it up in the post season.
Throw out your false idols (and those stupid pink Sox hats), don as much Sox gear as you can and make offerings to the Sports Gods (I’ll be leaving cookies out for David Ortiz).
Start chanting more “we believes” and stop saying the season is over. Hope springs eternal and there are still two games left. Just have some FAITH! Otherwise, don’t call yourselves Sox fans, infidels. If only we still had Johnny Damon on our team…