The Red Sox Won Game 5 Thanks to Me and The Beatles

Here are a few examples:

If we went to Fenway and ate hot dogs for dinner they won.  If we didn’t, they lost.
If we went to Fenway and ate ice cream they won.  If we didn’t, they lost.
If we ate pretzels on game days they won, if we didn’t they lost.

The pretzels had an extra twist.  After reading The Iliad and watching that god-aweful-abysmal-piece-of-cinematic-shite called Troy I was inspired to make a sacrifice to whatever god or gods run the baseball season.  The Greeks used to sacrifice food by dropping some on the floor for the gods and then eating the rest for themselves.  One for you, dropped on the floor, and one for me.  I don’t want to get off on a tangent, but doesn’t that sound like the gods got screwed?  The gods have to eat off the floor?  Really?  Even worse, they would cook a whole animal and sacrifice the disgusting, gross parts of it… like intestines and such.  So not only did the gods have to eat off the floor, but they only got to eat the crap, not the good stuff.  But I digress.  While watching the World Series last year, it was one pretzel on the floor for the baseball god or gods, and then eat the rest. 

It all seemed to work (I think there is a picture of the Series winning pretzel on my myspace page somewhere)… then.

This year… not so much.

They lost on a hot dog night.
They lost on an ice cream night.
They lost on pretzel night.  (The Bruins did too.  Is it any wonder I weigh so much?)
Even the one for you, one for me thing with the pretzels ended in a loss.

But there was one other ritual/superstition that I had not tried this year.

Last year, 2007, was of course the 40th anniversary of The Beatles’ masterpiece, Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.  At Fenway Park they celebrated that momentous event, along with the Red Sox 1967 Impossible Dream Team, by playing Sgt Pepper in it’s entirety before each home game… or at least each home game that I went to, including game 1 of the Division series and game 6 of the ALCS.  If we got to the park early enough to hear The Beatles, the Red Sox won.  If not, they lost.  We carried that superstition throughout the playoffs by making sure we listened to the album at least once on game days.

I hadn’t tried that one this season.  (although I totally should have… it’s The Beatles for christ’s sake)

Until yesterday.

I listened to Pepper on the way to work… and the Red Sox won.

Of course I didn’t get to see this victory.

The score was 5-0 Tampa Bay.  I looked at my beautiful fiance and said to her, “If I turn off the TV now it is not a case of me falling off the bandwagon.  It is because I can’t take the pain anymore.”  A few minutes later the television was off and I was snoring like a chainsaw. 

This morning I checked mlb.com.

No one is booing Papi now.
JD Drew is going to be elected governor any second now.

I listened to Sgt Pepper, and The Beatles made sure the Red Sox won the game.

I will, of course, be listening again on Saturday.

Hey Red Sox Nation… you’re welcome.

(please don’t lose again, please don’t lose again, please don’t lose again)