Monday, April 14, 2008

I Put A Spell On You

We may be seeing the most entertaining sports story since Najeh Davenport took a steamer in a co-ed’s laundry basket. That is absolutely true. People still call him Najeh Davenpoop. After he agreed to do community service for the deuce in the laundry, Davenpoop said, “Where’s the evidence? Where’s the manure?” Good times.

The story I am referring to is a construction workers attempt to jinx the New York Yankees by encasing in cement, wait for it, a David Ortiz Red Sox jersey. I am not making this up. The guy is a die hard Boston fan and was laying cement for the new Yankee Stadium. He had the bright idea to bury a Red Sox jersey into the cement like Jimmy Hoffa underneath Giants Stadium. I don’t believe that story either, but it is funny.

Only problem is, someone blabbed to the New York Post, a publication not really known to keep a scoop to themselves. I think he just couldn’t help himself he was so proud. Well, next thing you know, the story is on the front page and it’s all New York City can talk about.

The rational person or persons would laugh this off as a childish and creative prank. I thought it was hilarious. But we are talking about the Yankees and the Red Sox. In the Northeast people take the rivalry more serious than you can imagine. Plus, the Steinbrenner’s run the Yanks and as a whole they are a bit crazy-go-nuts. In fact, heir apparent Hank Steinbrenner, who is a gift from the unintentional comedy gods, was asked about the alleged burier of the jersey and was quoted saying “I hope his co-workers kick the s#*% out of him.” How many owners of a professional sports franchise would encourage violence among the teamsters building his new stadium? Fantastic.

You would think the Yankees would laugh this off, but no, they actually broke out the jackhammers and dug the bloody thing up. At a cost of $50,000. Five hours of drilling through two feet of concrete. Fifty large! You honestly could not make this story up. It’s as if the Yankees are run by Archie, Jughead and the gang and they are hatching a scheme to steal back the Riverdale High School mascot from Pembrooke Academy.

I firmly believe that other than the practitioners of voodoo, those obsessed with sports are the most superstitious people on the planet. The Curse of the Bambino sure seemed to be real. Ask Chicago Cubs fans if they believe in The Curse of the Billy Goat. Poor Steve Bartman can’t show his face in Chicago without the risk of lynch mob justice. The guy lives in hiding. In 1969, some Mets fans somehow snuck a black cat into Shea and released the beast in front of the visiting Cubs dugout. The hex continued.

I’m no different. I have weird habits with the numbers 11, 7, and 33. I use those numbers in every situation imaginable. It goes back to my childhood. I can’t help it. In city league basketball games, I have a hard time playing without number 11 on my back. It’s ridiculous. I know it’s ridiculous. However, I’m not sure I would take a buried shirt curse so seriously as to jackhammer the ground I order to avoid the new stadium being cursed.

Ah, who am I kidding, I probably would.