Curse, Interrupted.
Mood:  celebratory
I am not a ball fan and I am not a Red Sox fan, but I am a superstition fan. I love the superstition that goes hand-in-hand with sports. I am mostly a hockey fan, and I adore goalies and their rituals, and how you can never utter the word "shutout" when your team has got the other team scoreless 18 minutes into the third period. Because if you do, the opposing team will score immediately and break the potential . . . S word.

So, of course, I adore the Curse of the Bambino. It's pure sports superstition at its very best. And I also adore the way the Sox not only broke it, but annihilated it.

It was the top of the ninth inning, and I said to Ben: "There are two S words we dare not say right now", those words being both sweep and shutout. So we did not speak them, and lo and behold, the Sox got both the sweep and the shutout. I do feel for the Cards a bit -- Ben and I likened the Cards' World Series experience to a public buggering on national T.V. -- but the Sox were so overdue. As one sportswriter put it, since the last Sox win in 1918 we've seen two world wars, man on the moon, the rise and fall of the Soviet Union. And that's not the half of it!

Boston Red Sox: Enjoy the hell out of it. You earned it. And it's about bloody time.