| CROSS FANS MUST BEAR: |
Haven't won a World Series since 1918, a fact their
fans can't stop obsessing over in their fatalistic
New England way: As they soldier forward to their
doom, we will endure. Numerous near misses (see
'86) only salt the wounds. |
Haven't ruled the NBA since 1977, a fact their
fans can't stop obsessing over in their willfully
positive Northwestern way: I mean, gosh, if the
fellows try hard, maybe this will be the year! Ditto
on the near misses ('92), salt, the wounds, etc.
|
| THE OWNER: |
The paper-frail Mrs. Yawkey, who enjoyed her debutante
season when God Himself was a small boy. |
Pleasingly plump oligarch Paul Allen. |
| THE CURSE: |
In 1920, then-owner Harry Frazee needed cash to
sate his jones for financing Broadway plays, so he
sold an ace pitcher named Babe Ruth to the New York
Yankees. The Curse of the Bambino has laid waste to
Boston's dreams ever since. |
Hard to say for sure, but there's no shortage of
possibilities. Is it the Bigfoot Curse (no championship
until the extensive facial hair of the '77 squad
returns)? The Curse of Bill Walton's Foot? Is the
mojo bad because Rip City dissed Michael Jordan
for Sam Bowie in the '84 draft? Maybe the curse
is of fresher vintage, wrought when Damon Stoudamire
started whining about playing time last year and,
to quote Greg Anthony, "negative vibes" crept into
the mix. Or is it the revenge of the Symbionese
Liberation Army?
|
| THE GODLESS OPPONENT: |
Faced the fractious, bizarre, unappealing New York
Mets--a major-market franchise desperate for a
title! |
Crumbled before the two-man show of the Los Angeles
Lakers--a major market franchise desperate for
a title! |
| MERCURIAL, YET POTENTIALLY GREAT, PLAYER WITH
COOL NAME: |
Oil Can |
Bonzi |
| THE SERIES: |
A taut, contentious affair that caused some observers
to question the value of marquee pitchers Roger Clemens
and Doc Gooden. |
A taut, contentious affair that caused some observers
to question the value of shelling out $74 million
for a team that can't seal the deal. |
|
OPPONENTS' MOST OBNOXIOUS FAN:
|
A woman in a red sweater who sat behind home plate
whirling her arms incessantly when Red Sox pitchers
were on the mound. |
Pick one. |
| MOST REVOLTING MUSTACHIOED OPPONENT: |
Keith Hernandez. Sure, it wasn't all his fault.
The Mets had all the brotherly love of a tarantula's
egg sac. But still. |
Rick Fox. If ever a man walked through life, begging
for a punch squarely in the ever-so-sculpted five
o'clock shadow, it's Rick Goddamn Fox. |
| WHY THEY SHOULD HAVE WON THE SERIES |
Won the first two games at Shea Stadium, neutralizing
the Mets' home-field advantage. |
Won two games at the Staples Center, forcing Jack
Nicholson to travel all the way to Portland for Game
6. |
| THE FIRST COLLAPSE: |
Dropped two at home in ignominious fashion. |
Likewise. |
| THE CHIMERA OF HOPE, WHICH LED ULTIMATELY TO
BROKEN DREAMS: |
The game five win at Fenway, which meant they only
needed a split in New York to redeem decades of
suffering.
|
Friday's raucous, rapturous manhandling of a Lakers
club that seemed utterly helpless. Even Sabonis,
the Modern Prometheus, kicked some ass with his
rusting Soviet-made arsenal, nearly redeeming a
season of Shaq-hacking.
|
| ILLUSORY MARCH TO VICTORY: |
In dramatic Game Six, the Sox took the lead in
the top of the 10th, then came within one strike
of icing the Mets.
|
Do we even need to frickin' say it? Okay, then:
Thirteen points! For those of you scoring at
home, that's a THIRTEEN-MOTHERLOVING-POINT LEAD. With
a mere quarter left. |
| THE SEEMINGLY INNOCUOUS MOMENT AT WHICH THE PORTENTS
BEGAN TO SWIRL IN SINISTER WAYS: |
Manager John McNamara decides to leave slightly
hobbled first baseman Bill Buckner in the game because
he wants the veteran to be on the field when the victory
celebration starts. |
Lakers coach Phil Jackson, looking deep within himself,
in search of the Sacred River of Silent Crystal Warrior
Strength, decides to leave in L.A. sniper Brian Shaw,
who banks in a three-point shot at the end
of the third quarter. |
| THE GREAT UNRAVELING: |
Pitchers Calvin Schiraldi and Bob Stanley suddenly
start giving it up like cheerleaders on prom night.
And speaking of spread legs, there's the Buckner incident.
|
Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clunk. Clang. |
| THE AFTERMATH: |
Choked again in the very next game to hand the World
Championship to the Mets on a gilded platter. |
"Just watched the Blazers drop their guts all over
the floor...what's wrong with those guys?" --my
father. |
| THE ICE-COLD VERDICT OF HISTORY: |
Ace Roger Clemens is now a New York Yankee. |
?? |
