You don't HAVE to thank me, I suppose

Like most Red Sox fans, and probably like most hard-core fans across baseball, I'm given to a little bit of mindless superstition when it comes to my team. If my wife grabs the remote and changes the channel in the middle of an inning, I'll never hestitate to blame her when one of the relievers gives up a homer. When the Sox lost three times in a row when I wore my "Don't Blame Me, I Voted For Bellhorn" t-shirt, I had to stop wearing it on game days for the rest of that season.

At the same time, like many contemporary fans, I have more than a passing interest in statistics. I understand that one at-bat, one game, one series- these are all small sample sizes, and not terribly relevant in the context of a season or a franchise's history. I completely understand that correlation is not causality. Just because two occurences happened together doesn't mean necessarily that one was caused by the other.

Having said all of that, I just want it noted for the record that I singlehandedly turned the Red Sox season around this weekend. In October of 2004 as the playoffs were getting underway, I began to toy with an idea that would cement my status as a Red Sox fan. When the Yankees were just embarrassing the Sox in Game 3 of the ALCS, 19-8, I made a promise. Like many members of Red Sox nation, I made a pact with the universe. If the Sox pulled it out and won the World Series, I promised to get a Red Sox tattoo. I don't want to say that promise was what did it, after all, many other people made promises and of course Papi, Schilling, Damon, Bellhorn, and a few other guys had something to do with it. But I did make that promise- I'm just sayin'.

Forward in time to this past Friday. Nearly two years had gone by and I had not made good on my promise to get a tattoo. I know, I never stated a time frame, but I began to feel the weight of the universe calling in the bargain. A 1-5 road trip, losing embarrassing games to the Devil Rays and the Royals made everything clear to me. Falling behind in both the Wild Card and in the Division made my action absolutely crucial.

On Friday afternoon (before game time, please note) I went over to a new tattoo studio (run by a very nice lady who is a die-hard Sox fan as well) and got it done. I now have a small tattoo, about an inch-and-a-half square, of the two red socks on my left forearm, just inside the elbow. She did a nice job- it's a very nice, tasteful tattoo.

The rest of the story would then be available in any newspaper or sports website. The Sox swept the Orioles this weekend, climbing back to one game out in the East and keeping pace in the Wild Card. The pitching was still shaky, except for David Wells who pitched very effectively. For the most part, the offense was provided by guys other than Manny and Papi. If you had said that the Sox would score 28 runs over three games and those two guys didn't have more than a couple RBI apiece, I'd have been quite surprised. That is not how this season has been defined.

Somehow, though, Mirabelli, Wily MO!, Lowell, and Coco carried this weekend. One theory on this was that following the trade deadline, the team went into a bit of tailspin because of injuries and the fact that the front office had not consummated any trades to help the team. That must have been wearying for the guys left on the team. After things fell apart a bit on the road, and after a couple of weeks of tightrope walking with only Papi and Manny bailing them out, something clicked. These guys looked at each other and said- we're it. We're the team. There's no Bobby Abreu or Roy Oswalt riding into town to save our season. We can sink or swim together. The result is three solid wins over the O's. Despite the tense nature of two of those games, I didn't have the same feeling of panic. Sure, I was tense when we were in extra innings or when Papelbon struggled yesterday in the 9th. I wasn't panicky. These were team victories- I had that feeling that all of a sudden, everyone on the team was capable of stepping up and winning it for us. We didn't have to go into extra innings until we got back to the 3-4 spots in the batting order.

I know it's only Baltimore, who the Sox have utterly dominated this year, but this weekend felt like the team coming together, and at the perfect time. With the Tigers and the Yankees coming to town for the next eight games, they're finally a team that can be really proud of themselves. Parts of the pitching staff are still more than questionable, but Wake and Foulke aren't that far away, and Wells seems back. The Tigers aren't that scary (in fact, the White Sox seem very capable of catching them) and the Yankees are beatable. This team showed me this weekend that they can win.

Of course, all of this could also be happening because of my tattoo. I'm not saying that my making good on my promise has single-handedly changed the Sox fate and turned around their season. I wouldn't want to jinx it like that. I'm only laying out the facts for the record, and for your review. You don't have to thank me- I'm just doing what I can to help.