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
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
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
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
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
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 firstname.lastname@example.org