There is Superstition...

Brian and I were at a party a couple of weeks ago talking with another couple about baseball (this was before the Phillies failure to make it to the series).  We told this guy that we couldn't watch the Phillies play because every time we did, they lost.  In all seriousness, the guy said, "You know, whether or not the Phillies lose has nothing to do with you watching the game."

Well, duh, but we weren't going to take any chances.

Superstitions are funny, and sports (baseball in particular) is riddled with them:

• The curse of the Bambino
• No mentioning "it" when a pitcher is on his way to a no-hitter
• The William Penn curse
• The Sports Illustrated jinx

Not to mention of course the players personal superstitions including: bat smelling, chicken eating, beard growing, special shorts wearing, etc.

I have to admit, while I'm not a professional sports player (bet you didn't know that), I have my own superstitions which in the clear light day are obviously ridiculous. 

My silliest superstition is about my earrings.  I swear that if I wear certain earrings, I'll have a bad day.  Don't!  I know what you are thinking.  But I have hard-core, well-researched, anecdotal evidence!  It seems that every time I wear certain earrings, my day goes south.  Sometimes, I'll forget what pair I've put on, my day will be rocky, I'll look in the mirror and Voila!  Bad earrings!  I don't know how you can argue with that. 

I do have to get over it though because Brian gives me most of my earrings and I don't want to offend him by suggesting he is somehow the orchestrator of my terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad days. 

Now who's up for sharing their superstitions?  Unless of course, I lost you at bad earrings.

Oh, and, in case you were wondering, we tried not to watch the Phillies play but ended up in a bar when the game was on.  They were up by 2 runs and in the time it took us to drink a beer, the Giants pulled ahead by 2.  So I guess I won't be watching baseball next summer.

Seeing Red

At curtain call last night, after the final bow, one of the actors shouted out to the crowd, "It's 3-2 Phils, bottom of the 8th."

It took me a minute to realize he was giving the score of the Phils-Dodger game, the first of the National League Championship Series. Incidentally, the game started right after our curtain went up and was almost over when the show ended 3 hours later. A lot came happen in 3 hours.

I've been told that that Philadelphians LOVE their sports but seeing is believing. Growing up in Vermont, we didn't have any home teams to root for. Many of our neighbors were Red Sox fans but I grew up in a household of avid Yankees fans. Both my parents grew up in the Bronx, and my father worked concessions at Yankee stadium for a few summers.

I lived in Baltimore, MD for a couple of years, right when they built Camden Yards. That was exciting but the Orioles didn't get anywhere close to the world series during those years.

So living in Philadelphia has been a learning experience and a blast as well--one of my neighbors set off fireworks after the Eagles won an important game. Even the Septa buses scroll "Good Luck Phils" as well as giving their route number.

They start them young here which may be a reason for the wide-spread obsession with sports. My children announced this morning they needed to wear red today to support the Phillies (someone at school had suggested it). I didn't think much of it until we got to the bus stop and I saw all these other children with Phillies shirts on as well as baseball caps. I've never been a "keeping up the Joneses" mom but suddenly I wanted to run out and buy Phillies shirts. "Hey," I felt like shouting, "I support them too!"

There are no fair weather fans here in Philly which is nice when you think about it. It's been years since they won a championship and to think they are getting closer everyday. It's so exciting. I guess it's true what they say: Ya Gotta Believe!