I recently spoke with a number of Boston Red Sox fans who expressed the belief that the Red Sox would win the World Series this year. After I finished laughing, I posted this message at baseballboards, and figured it would go well here. I feel that since the purpose of the SDMB is to fight ignorance, it is high time I tried to get through to Red Sox fans:
The Red Sox have no chance of winning the World Series this year. None whatsoever; zero, less than the Expos or the Orioles.
The Red Sox will never, ever win the World Series, because they are losers. I don’t know if there’s a “Curse” - I don’t believe in that sort of thing - but I do know that the Boston Red Sox will never win another World Series. The Padres might only win it once a century. The Expos might only win it once a millenium. But the Red Sox will never win it. Never. Other teams are bad, or terrible, or in the case of the Orioles they can be so criminally Godawful that there should be a law against them, but the Red Sox are losers. They are the absolute apex of loserdom, the ultimate evolutionary state of the species Loserus Ballplayerus. To don a Red Sox jersey is to fully embrace being a loser.
It is a natural part of Boston baseball. It doesn’t matter who they get, what they do, or how they play; they will always lose. You could use a time machine to bring back Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, Willie Mays, Walter Johnson, Honus Wagner and Hank Aaron in their peak condition, put them in Boston uniforms, and they still wouldn’t win the World Series. They will not win the World Series this year, next year, in the next ten years, in the next hundred years, or in the next thousand. If Major League Baseball is played for a hundred thousand years (and, God willing, it will be) the Red Sox will not win the World Series. They are losers, and they will always be losers. To be a Red Sox fan is to be completely bereft of any hope or chance. They are doomed forever, and there is nothing the Red Sox can do to change it.
Oh, they’ll win division titles. They will win pennants. Red Sox players will win Cy Young Awards and MVP Awards and Gold Gloves. Their stars will be elected to the Hall of Fame (Pedro!) They may even beat the Yankees in a playoff series. But sooner or later, they will always blow it. It’s an absolute inviolable physical law of the universe. If the Red Sox go 162-0 next year, sweep the ALDS and ALCS, make it to the World Series and win the first three games and lead Game 4 15-0 in the ninth inning with two out and nobody on, I absolutely guarantee you that they will give up fifteen or sixteen runs, blow the game, and lose three more.
Was it a curse? I don’t know; I doubt it. I don’t think it’s a lack of “leadership” or “intangibles,” either. But something has happened since 1918. Something that has infected the Red Sox, their ballpark, their uniforms, their very names with the stench of losing. To be a Red Sox is to be a loser. To wear their jersey and their cap is to say to the world “I am a talented ballplayer, but I shall now choke and lose in every manner possible until I join another team.” To be a Red Sox manager or GM is to rearrange deck chairs on the Titanic. To cheer for them is to cheer on a hopeless cause. Red Sox fans will not see them win the World Series this year, or next year, or the year after. They will go on dreaming their hopeless dreams and live their entire lives watching the Red Sox have bad seasons, or have good seasons and choke in the playoffs, or win the playoffs and lose the World Series on a ridiculous, comical error. Their hopes will be dashed, little by little, for years and years and decades and decades, and they will die old men and women never having seen the Red Sox win the World Series, and so it will be for their children, and their grandchildren, and for a thousand generations to come. The lucky ones will never realize the empty hopelessness of their cause.
There are those who would say that the Bill Buckner moment is the defining moment in Red Sox history. I shall disagree. There is certainly a wonderful, poetic truth in that scene of the World Series rolling through Bill Buckner’s legs. It is somehow fitting that the Red Sox would execute an absolutely perfect choke and complete it with such a hilarious play. It is perfectly suitable that the play happened because of a move the Red Sox manager forgot to make, and it is exquisitely fitting that the Red Sox reaction to having disgraced themselves and the ciy they represent was to blame each other rather than coming together as a team. The perfect expression of being a Red Sox is Bill Buckner’s asinine claim that it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d caught the ball because he didn’t think he could get Wilson out anyway, which is simply a baldfaced lie. (Even if he hadn’t gotten Wilson, the game would not have been over, since no run would have scored if he’d caught the ball. The winning run scored from second.) How perfect. If the Red Sox make the World Series this year, the PR director of the National League champion should have that scene on the cover of the programs and replayed on the scoreboard at the beginning of every NL park game with the headline “We Have Nothing To Worry About.”
But no, that is not the defining moment in Red Sox History. You know what the defining moment is? Carlton Fisk’s home run to win Game Six of the 1975 World Series. Red Sox fans still celebrate that play. Red Sox fans claim it is one of the greatest moments in baseball history. And what makes it so perfect in defining the Red Sox as a team is that they lost the World Series! The Red Sox fan’s favourite moment, a moment they WORSHIP, is a play from a World Series they lost. How perfect is that?
Pedro will win his World Series someday. With another team. Just like Clemens. Just like Boggs. If he makes the terrible error of staying in Boston, he will always be remembered as are Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski, Dwight Evans (an underrated ballplayer) and Jim Rice; great players, but they never won the ring. That is the anthem of the Red Sox: “But, if, only, maybe.”
Given that the Red Sox cannot win the World Series, it is obvious to me that the best thing for Boston Red Sox fans would be to disband the team and distribute the players throughout the rest of MLB. Fenway Park, a temple of losing, should be burned to ashes and the ground seeded with salt, covered with land mines, and blocked off by a brick wall. After ten years, perhaps Boston can get a new expansion team that will not be such a pack of hopeless, pointless, doomed losers. But I do not want that to happen, because as a fan of another team, I can always count on the Red Sox to lose that key game, drop that key fly ball, strike out in the kay situation, or let that key ground ball roll through their legs. Fans of the teams that have at least a small chance of a World Series wins will always have the Red Sox to deliver the key choke and Red Sox fans to pity and laugh at.
loser (LOO-zer) /lose (old Eng “losian,” to perish, lose) n. 1. The losing party in a contest, match, or competition. 2. One who is typically unsuccessful, incompetent, or unlucky. 3. A member of the Boston Red Sox.