It was a cool October evening, much like tonight. The lovely wife and I were newlyweds and were excitedly getting into bed.... to watch game 4 of the 2004 World Series, you pervs. As I'm sure you all know, the Red Sox were about to sweep the Cardinals and win their first World Series in 86 years, erasing the Curse of the Bambino.
Let me take a step back and say that I was also a huge Mets fan in the 80's and 90's before giving all my loyalty to the Rangers in the 2000's. The 1986 World Series against the Red Sox was my first experience with the agony and ecstasy that I think only baseball can deliver, and after what happened to the Rangers last week, I now have a greater appreciation for how tough 1986 had to be for Red Sox fans. I bring this up because early in our relationship, the Lovely Wife bought me this really cool, framed picture of Ray Knight crossing the plate after the ball went through Buckner's legs in game 6. I had this picture, and about a dozen other baseball pictures, hanging on the wall in our guest room/office.
This picture now kind of gives me the creeps...
Anyway, we were lying in bed watching the Red Sox finish off the Cardinals. The game ended and the celebration began on the field. We watched a bit of it before deciding to call it a night. As I was turning off the TV, the announcer said something along the lines of the "curse being broken" or "ghosts being exorcised" for the Red Sox or something like that. I turned off the TV. Literally a second later, we heard a crash in the guest room. I ran down the hall to see what happened and turned on the light. There, in a pile of broken glass was the Ray Knight picture. There was no wind that night at all, or thunder or lightning or anything that should have knocked that picture off the wall. What I still to this day don't understand is how none of the pictures hanging below it on the wall were disturbed. I would think if it just fell straight down, it would have knocked other pictures off too. It was almost like it leaped off the wall. I'm not a jittery person by nature, and other than some sports superstitions, I'm not at all a believer in ghosts or crap like that. But thinking about that night still gives me the willies.