How the Curse was Reversed

I’m reading Emperors and Idiots, Mike Vaccaro’s book on the Yankee-RedSox rivalry, from its inception in 1904, all the way through the two great seven-game championship series in 2003 and 2004. Vaccaro writes for the New York Post, and does a pretty good job of objectively telling both sides of this long and contentious story. And as I read over the past two nights about the winter of 2003-04, and then the Sox comeback from 0-3 in October of 2004, I had an epiphany. My very own epiphany, I’ll add. There’s nothing in Vaccaro’s book that even hints at this revelation. However, as I’ve said before in other contexts, it’s probably true, because it’s based purely on the facts.

The Curse that dogged the RedSox for 86 years, if you believe in curses, is supposed to have originated with the Yankees’ acquisition of the Bambino, Babe Ruth, after the 1919 season. Ruth was the best player in the game, but for the Sox he had mostly pitched. He led them to World Series championships in 1916 and 1918, and along the way, discovered that he liked hitting more than pitching. Were he to play in the outfield, not only could he play every day, but he could bat every day, where he could perfect a skill little known in those early baseball days, hitting the long ball. Without belaboring the story, the Sox ownership didn’t want Ruth playing outfield, and they couldn’t see that anyone could change the game that much by hitting home runs, as Ruth would do in the twenties. Plus, Ruth was becoming tough to manage, and on and on. Everyone knows the story – Ruth goes to the Yankees; they begin winning championships; and the balance of power shifts in the American League. (Interestingly, they only won three series in the twenties, when the first great Yankee team took the field.) Meanwhile, the Sox endured an 86 year drought, made more painful by the heartbreaking manner in which they seemed to fail, every time they got within reach of the prize.

Fast forward to the fall of 2004. Everyone knows this story too – How the Sox fell behind 0-3; how Rivera was only three outs away from a sweep; how Dave Roberts stole second base; how Ortiz almost singlehandedly kept the Sox faint hopes alive through those two marathon extra-inning games in Fenway. And how, once they had come back in Game Four, they never lost again in that post-season, sweeping the Cardinals, their other October nemesis, to win the first championship of almost everyone’s lifetime. That’s the story, right? In October 2004 the curse was reversed, as evidenced by last year’s triumph over Cleveland and the Rockies.

But reading Emperors and Idiots, and seeing the whole saga unfold on the pages of this book, I came to realize that the curse had been lifted before the fall of 2004. Think back to December of 2003, after the Yankees had won the ALCS in seven, on Aaron Boone’s walk-off home run, and the teams jockeyed not only to improve their respective rosters, but to deprive their rivals of signing any players who might improve the other’s roster. And what was the big trade of that winter? Who had the Yankees stolen away from the Sox, barely a couple days after Boston seemed to have him all signed up?A-Rod. Once again the Yankees had landed the guy who, by acclamation, seemed to be the best player in the game. 2003 MVP for the worst team in the AL. Gold glove shortstop. Youngest guy ever to hit 300 home runs. I can remember clearly the glee that Yankee fans then felt, figuring that with A-Rod playing next to Jeter, the Yankees would have an incomparable duo, both at the plate and in the field. Another combination like Ruth and Gehrig. Their dynasty was guaranteed for another decade. Or so it seemed, in the winter before that magical 2004 season.

Now, think forward another ten months to Game Six of the following ALCS. That game is recalled for Schilling, and his bloody sock, and his gutty performance through seven innings, holding the Yankees to a single run. Only in the eighth inning Bronson Arroyo got in trouble with one out. Jeter had singled home Cairo; the lead had been cut in half; and Bronson looked shaken as he pitched to A-Rod. But A-Rod promptly killed the rally when he hit Bronson with his purse, as Arroyo tried to make the tag on a ground ball down the first base line. A-Rod was called out; Jeter was sent back to first; and the Yankees never again threatened. In the ninth inning, although Foulke walked two guys, no one could hit him, and the Sox held on to win 4-2. Game Seven was over by the second inning, and the Sox had somehow managed to come back from a 0-3 deficit, the first team in the history of baseball to do that. It was a miracle; and the curse had been lifted. Only maybe it wasn’t really a miracle; and maybe there’s still a curse. Except this time, instead of the Bambino putting a curse on the team that dumped him, what’s the chance that A-Rod brought a curse to the team that signed him?

Clearly, it’s too early to know if the Yankees are cursed. Even though we now love to think about the whole twenty-zero thing, an eight year drought is hardly evidence of a curse. Even in the Steinbrenner era, when the Yankees could always open their wallets to sign whomever they wanted, they’ve already had an eighteen year absence from the post-season, which was then followed by four titles in five years. So perhaps it’s just bad luck; or maybe they’re making some dumb decisions right now (The whole Joe Torre fiasco comes to mind.); or maybe A-Rod will stop being a bitch next year and finally start to perform when it counts; but I think that’s the least likely possibility. In fact, I think that Hank Steinbrenner made a mess of the whole A-Rod thing last fall, and missed an opportunity to free up a quarter billion dollars that could be better spent elsewhere. In any event, the best evidence was the realization that any chance the Yankees had in 2004 was snuffed out by A-Rod’s bush league play.

But whether there’s a curse or not, I love this theory, because I love to hate on A-Rod. And blaming the Yankees’ present woes on that guy may be unfair, but it’s still a lot of fun to think about. Only problem is, by my count, and if I’m right about the curse thing, the Yankees drought will continue until 2086, and I won’t be around to enjoy most if it. But if I am right, and if global warming doesn’t melt the entire earth, I want someone who reads this to come and add a footnote to my gravestone sometime long after I’m gone. I’m the guy who first figured out this new curse; who first perceived the true symmetry in how the curse was really reversed.