October 31, 2003

 FORGET CURSES IT’S ABOUT SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECIES FOR CUBS, SOX 

      Every year we hear about the “Curse of the Bambino” and how it is the main reason why the Boston Red Sox haven’t won a World Series since 1918.  This past year, with the resurgence of those lovable losers from Chicago we heard about the “Curse of the Billy Goat” and how that is the reason why the Cubs haven’t won since 1908.  In reality losing isn’t about anything superstitious, like curses, it’s about inevitability and a sense of impending doom that overtakes both the organization and its fans.  How else to explain a home town fan’s assistance in his team’s failure, and the obvious nervousness of a manager afraid of making the wrong move that culminated in more failure.  It’s not about curses per se; it’s about self-fulfilling prophecies and the belief that failure is inevitable.

       The differences between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox are plenty.  The biggest difference is that one organization prides itself on winning, while the other seemingly awaits an impending failure.  The Yankees call on the ghosts of the past to help carry them through tough times while the Red Sox anxiously try to dissuade any appearance from their ghosts.  The Yankees believe they will win; the Red Sox await the inevitable loss.  In the end the Yankee confidence always gets the better of the Red Sox fatalism.  

       Pedro Martinez is far and away the best pitcher on the Red Sox staff.  He has arguably been the best pitcher in the game for most of the past decade as well, but over the past couple of seasons arm injuries have limited Pedro to no more than a seven-inning pitcher.  Bing game seven of the league Championship Series doesn’t alter that fact, and Pedro was showing his limitations as the game wore on.  The dominance he showed early began to fade in the fifth inning.  He escaped from major jams in the sixth and seventh innings, and in that seventh inning each ball the Yankees hit was hit hard.  The ball wasn’t moving with the same velocity, it wasn’t breaking with the same sharpness.  Pedro was getting very close to the end.  When David Ortiz upped the Red Sox lead to three in the top of the eighth it allowed Manager Little more flexibility.  But it didn’t mean that Pedro would add more gas, more sharpness to his pitches.  To show respect is one thing, to lose such an important contest is quite another.  Manager Little was nervous.  He didn’t know what to do.  Nearly a century of bad results weighed heavily on his mind.  He froze and ultimately did nothing.  And he lost.

       On the other side Manager Joe Torre saw that Roger Clemens was having trouble hitting his spots and quickly took him out before the game got out of hand.  Manager Torre was filled with confidence that his bullpen would keep the game close and that his offense would eventually click in.  This is the confidence brought on by years of success.  Manager Torre didn’t freeze-- he made the move.  And he won.

       Similar strategy and results took place in the National League Series, only it took place in Game Six.  The Cubs were cruising along and starter Mark Prior was dominating the Florida Marlins.  But his pitch count was rising to frightening levels as the game neared its end.  In the eighth inning, with the Cubs clinging to a precarious three run lead, Prior began to tire.  The fan’s interference of a foul ball that Moises Alou would have likely caught seemed to throw him off his game.  It was as If Prior began to think that this was the omen—that this was the beginning of the end for the Cubs.  A tired and nervous Prior then began to leave his pitches up in the hitting zone.  Manager Dusty Baker did the freeze act.  He had left Prior in despite a high pitch count in a game against Atlanta in the previous round, and had been validated as Prior had closed out a shutout.  Baker, as the cliché goes, went to the well once too often.  Against Atlanta Prior still had some sharpness left on his pitches.  This time exhaustion and impending doom straightened out his fastball and made him an easy mark for a young and energetic Marlin squad feeling good fortune was waiting for them. 

       Both managers tried to wring water from a stone, and both managers lost.  Both managers were dealing with a history of losing and were nervous and hesitant, while in the other dugout a free flowing thought process was taking their teams to victory.  As much as the Red Sox and the Cubs try to downplay their histories, and try to explain how most present day players aren’t aware of the history each organization and each fan base are aware and do not let the managers and players forget it.   

      It isn’t about curses; it’s about the belief in curses.  It’s about the belief that tragedy will rear its ugly head.  It’s a belief that Bill Buckner and Leon Durham are inextricably linked to a history of failure and that the ghosts of failures past will always haunt the teams.  Somehow, someway victory will become failure.  Outside forces will always keep each time from the Promised Land. 

       If you believe—then it will come true.