Athletes are the most superstitious people on the planet. Their fans are a close second. I am no different, despite having no other rituals or superstitions in life. As I watch the Bears on Super Bowl Sunday, I’ll have be wearing my #99 Jim Flanigan* jersey, despite owning a Walter Payton jersey and a Rex Grossman jersey**. I’ll have a long sleeve blue shirt underneath, blue shorts, a Bears ball cap, and under no circumstances, will I be wearing socks. Oh, and I’ll be playing with Legos. My 3 year old daughter must be wearing her Urlacher jersey if they are to win. My son can wear whatever he wants; for some reason that doesn’t matter.
To those with similar superstitions, this all makes perfect sense. In fact, my ritual is pretty mild compared to some.
So, sports fans, what are your bizarre rituals that you just know will give your team the supernatural edge in the game?
*The Bears didn’t have a lot of marketable players the year I bought that one.
** A gift from the wife. I, of course, happily accepted it and wear it proudly despite really really really wanting an Urlacher alternate orange jersey. I just won’t wear it on game day.
I never change the volume on my TV if my team is winning or tied in an important game. The best example is the '96 World Series when the Yankees were down in Game 4. I was on an extended phone call (aka a fight) with my girlfriend at the time. The TV was on mute when Leyritz hit his famous home run. I watched the remainder of the game without volume.
During my sports gambling days, which have stopped, I wouldn’t even watch the games that I had money on. Too many bad things seemed to happen when I watched.
When I was in college, my friends concluded that I was a jinx. If I watched the game, our team lost. (Never mind that they usually lost when I wasn’t watching.) It was suggested that even allowing me to be in the same room with a TV showing the game was too risky. I was therefore ceremonially banished to my room whenever a game was on. (Not a bad deal, since my buddies brought me a steady supply of drinks and snacks, and I’m not a big football fan, anyway.) I could attend tailgate parties, but not enter the stadium (which also suited me perfectly well).
Even now, I’m occasionally instructed to turn my chair away from the TV if things are looking bad for the home team. I think it’s funny.
I coordinate my Kentucky shirts depending on whether we’re playing at Rupp or on the road. If we’re on the road, I’ll wear a blue one (either my Cat Crazy shirt or my road Patrick Sparks uni T) and a white one (Cat Crazy or home Sparks T) for games at Rupp.
And there’s my insane chugging of tea during the game. And yelling at the TV (which is muted so I can listen to Tom Leach and Mike Pratt.)
I was cradling my Terrorist Kitten in my arms singing her the Bears song, which she seemed to really like a couple weeks ago. She clawed me in the face. I bled for hours. That ritual came to a screeching halt. :mad:
This will only work once a season. I will stand for the Canadian national anthem, sitting for the American. Has never failed. The only problem is, I can only use it once a hockey season.
When the Red Sox make the post season, I don’t change my toenail polish until they’re out. Sally Hansen #89, Hollywood Red.
My sister and I also start a knitting/crocheting project at the start of the post season, and knit through all games that we don’t attend. In 2004, we actually saw a lady knitting on Yawkey Way before game 2 of the WS. We were happy that someone was weirder than us.
Since I moved into my current residence, the Florida Gators are a combined 42-3 in basketball and football, with a national title in each and are currently ranked #1 in hoops. I’m not planning to move anytime soon.
Last year after the Steelers were at 7-5 and in danger of missing the playoffs, I stopped wearing any Steelers gear and buried my Terrible Towel in the bottom of my underwear drawer. They won every game after that. In the last couple of minutes of the Super Bowl, when the Steelers were sure to win the game, I ran into the bedroom put on my Steelers t-shirt, my Rod Woodson jersey, my Jerome Bettis jersey, my Steelers watch, and pulled out the Terrible Towel, which I waved furiously as the clock expired.
I’m convinced that display is responsible for this season’s woes.
I can’t watch either. If I don’t watch I’ll miss the thrilling victory but I can read about it later or catch a replay. If I do watch it’ll be a miserable loss.
