Why I Can't Watch The Tribe

I love the Indians. Have since we moved to Ohio in the 60s. Cut my Ohio broadcast teeth working Indians games for the former WWWE in the 90s. Loved the old stadium, too. Was there for the opening of Jacobs Field, both the '95 and '97 World Series runs, even last year's low times.

But I just can't watch the Indians on TV for this run.

It's because I'm convinced it's a jinx.

My cousin Gene (the Yankees fan) admits he does the same thing; tune in, see our teams with big leads, then stare in horror as it all fades away. It happened in the NY series for that one game for me; last Friday I watched against the Red Sox when they creamed us. Tuesday I tuned in late to see three Boston homers back to back to back before I turned it off, afraid another second watching meant the end.

At this point I can hear my buddy Bob Salsberg of the AP in Boston screaming at me to turn the damn game on; he's probably calling the switchboard at Fox 8 in Cleveland to figure out how to beam those pictures directly into my jinxing eyeballs so his Sox can come closer to going back home to play more baseball instead of heading south to play golf. Sorry, Bob, it just ain't gonna happen. My mind's made up: my eyes will be shut tight to any images of Chief Wahoo sending your boys packing.

The jinx doesn't work on radio; I listen, then win (most of the time this season); the jinx doesn't work in person: they win them, too. Going online to check it out? They win. But turn on the tube and the tables turn.

In the full interests of my fellow fans, I will NOT watch ANY of the game tonight. I've already got the DVR ready with reruns of Law and Order, Shark, even Two and a Half Men. I might even watch the rerun of Desperate Housewives despite Diane's wishes to keep it fresh until she comes back from an out-of-town business trip. Even she watches the games, then tells me about it the next day. She's watched her beloved Tigers and even Twins move on to win World Championships so her fandom has proven to be non-fatal. As for me: the pain of true support for my team.

Not watching. But still waiting.