Dead Sox

OK. I'll give it to them. The Red Sox won the World Series. Now the world can end peacefully...except if you're a Yankee fan, like me. Could there have been a worse week? The Yankees basically fire Joe Torre, A-Rod opts out of his contract, and the Dead Sox win the World Series for the second time in my life. Obviously someone up there hates me.

My wife asked me last night why I have such an aversion to the Boston-ites. I really have no good answer except that they are the Red Sox. Do I need go any further? I grew up just outside the shadow of the Stadium. I was bred on venom for everything Boston, though later in life I grew to love the Celtics and Larry Bird. But that toxicity for the Sox is still there. I can't stand Boston. I hate the team. I LOVE to see them lose.

To see them win the World Series is tantamount to heresy for me. I find myself this morning in a real emotional fog. What do I care that thousands of people today got their furniture for free? The Red Sox won the World Series! Is there anything right with the world today? No, absolutely not! The only thing worse than this would be, well, I can't think of anything right now, but then I can't see ten feet in front of me.

When I was in New York this summer to see my beloved Yankees play, I saw a t-shirt that read something like this: "What's the difference between the Yankees and the Red Sox? It won't take the Yankees another 86 years to win another World Series." Maybe not, but it only took the Dead Sox three. Chew on that, George, while you ruminate about the missteps you've taken this week. What have you done lately to reverse YOUR curse?