Take Me Out to the BORE Game

Hi Boston, it seems great now, doesn't it? The Red Sox winning their second series in only three years. Swept out the Rockies Sunday night. Don't worry, next year they'll win in Boston--just as you want it.

And they' ll keep on winning. They'll win the Pennant next year. And they'll win the Series again--probably against the Yankees (stop salivating on your PC.) And this will happen year after year. They will always win. You know why? Because now the Sox have the curse of not being able to ever lose.

So what can be wrong with that? Isn't that what we always hoped for, Boston?

But just imagine this:

The Red Sox start winning every home game. It seems like a miracle! Fans go wild.

First, the games are really close. Fans still bite their nails to the bone. But then the games get less dramatic. The Sox start shutting out everyone-like they did the Rockies in the 7^th game of the playoffs.

Suddenly it's not so exciting anymore. Who wants to pay all that money to go see a perpetual winner? Boooooring.

The first thing to go is season's tickets. Who wants to go into debt to buy tickets to a ball game when you know who will win--every time.

Then the price of regular tickets goes down as people stop coming. It gets so bad that you can buy a ticket on the day of the game. Have you ever heard of such a thing?

But it doesn't stop there. Families with young kids can afford to go to Fenway. That is so ridiculous. Who wants to be at a ballgame with people who can afford the tickets, who are not at least willing to take out a second mortgage to get to a game?

Naturally, the prices of hot dogs, popcorn and Cokes go down. Wow! People buy more and more and the fat ratio of the Boston population goes up. At the same time that people realize they can afford the snacks at Fenway, they also realize how disgusting they are. The old-time vendors start losing money. Some quit. Soon other vendors move in: "BROCCOLI! Get your BROCCOLI here! Should have had a V8? You can get it right here in the stands.

Things get so bad, that you can find parking at Fenway. (People stop taking the T to games; migraines decrease in Boston and CVS goes out of business.) Road rage goes down. And anger-control therapists lose their clients.

Because they have time on their hands, the therapists start going to the Park and analyzing the games. Soon they replace the announcers who get fed up and quit. Now instead of RBI's, you got people talking about GYPTMAE's--Give Yourself Permission to Make an Error.

Umpires start getting tested to see if they're taking No Doz. And the owners? They stop wearing suits to the games. What's the point? They try to sell the Sox but no one wants to buy. Who wants a nonstop winner?

And the Sox themselves. Many start having nervous breakdowns because no matter what they do, they can't get it wrong. Ortiz drops 20 pounds. Ramirez's dreadlocks fall out while he's running bases. You think he was slow before? He's really walking the bases now. He gains 30 pounds.

Signs go up: Please Stop Believing. No one respects the Big Green Monster anymore. Now they call it The Teal Care Bear. How humiliating.

And at last, Red Sox Nation becomes Red Sox County, then Red Sox Village, and,finally , Red Sox block.

So maybe the Bambino is just giving us a taste of watching-out-for-what-you-wish-for syndrome. Let's ask the Babe to turn things around. Please give us back the old curse. Give us back our good old, heart-breaking Red Sox....and the old ball game.