Is the Supreme Being a Red Sox Loving Democrat?
Published on Saturday, October 23, 2004 by
Is the Supreme Being a Red Sox Loving Democrat?
by Steven Laffoley
It was a sign, I’m sure of it.

I know, I know. It’s a stretch. But I have to wonder? Is the Supreme Being a Red Sox loving democrat? Sure. Go ahead and laugh. But consider: what else – except for a liberal leaning, Red Sox loving deity – can explain the improbable, nay, the impossible, seventh game victory of the Boston Red Sox over the New York Yankees?

I’ve been a Red Sox fan my whole life. From Yaz, to Fisk, to Boggs, to Damon. And as a Red Sox fan, I know that there is a natural order of things. Call it baseball fate. Or better yet, call it the cosmic law of baseball. This cosmic law states emphatically: “Let the word go forth that the Red Sox of Boston – having recklessly traded Babe Ruth to the New York Yankees – shall forever lose their most important games in painful, poetic fashion.”

And since 1920, the baseball universe has worked according to this immutable law: 1946, 1967, 1975, 1978, 1986, and 2003.

And this year, in the American League pennant series against New York, game by game, the Boston Red Sox did exactly what they have done for years: they climbed out of a dark, self inflicted series deficit to ensure a seventh and deciding game. But then, instead of succumbing to the inevitable cosmic law of baseball – a game-winning, ninth-inning homerun by the opposing team, or a fumbling, game-costing, ninth-inning fielding error by the Red Sox – they didn’t lose.

And strange as it may sound, it just couldn’t have been an accident. After all a cosmic law is a cosmic law, right? So I have to ask: why didn’t the Red Sox lose?

Was it the Red Sox Nation’s forces of superstition working in absolute consort, laser-focused on the glorious possibility of a seventh game victory? Numerically, that force is formidable. For 86 years, thousands of perfectly logical, intelligent, thoughtful adults have become wood knocking, ladder avoiding practitioners of myriad medieval superstitions when it came to Red Sox post-season play.

But no, I knew that such forces alone couldn’t explain this impossible victory. After all, weren’t those same forces in play during the 1975 World Series against the Cincinnati Reds, or in the 1986 World Series against the New York Mets when that ball rolled gently through the legs of Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner?

So then, what explained it?

As I sat watching the post-game celebration, bemused by this brave new world of a Red Sox seventh game victory, the answer came to me. Could it be that the Boston Red Sox were the beneficiaries of a Greater Plan? Was this impossible victory some sort of sign from the Supreme Being? Maybe, I thought.

That was my leap of faith.

I asked myself: if I was the Supreme Being, and had, say, decided to vote for the democrats – and knew that John F. Kerry was a big Red Sox fan – wouldn’t I be tempted to send a small sign of encouragement to liberals?

Now, you may ask: why this sign? Well, don’t forget: George W. Bush once said that the Supreme Being had personally spoken to him some time in the late 90s and told him to run for President. So, maybe this message was for both John F. Kerry and George W. Bush? Maybe the Supreme Being wanted to fix his cosmic, game-costing fielding error when he gave his personal okay to George W.?

Or maybe not.

Either way, from the standpoint of a Red Sox loving democrat, this impossible victory must be cause for hope. Because if the Boston Red Sox can beat the New York Yankees, after coming back from a three game deficit, in the seventh game of the American League pennant series, and win it in the house that Ruth built, then surely the democrats can beat the republicans, after coming back from a bad supreme court ruling, in the final weeks of this election campaign, and win it in the house the George stole.

No matter how you look at it – as either a sign from the Supreme Being or as powerful tale of hope against hope – it was a sign. I’m sure of it.

Steven Laffoley is a freelance writer and school principal living in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He can be contacted at