Pick a curse, any curse
How the most superstitious of all sports handles failure.
Dan Fost
The Chicago White Sox have the Ghosts of the Black Sox, the Chicago Cubs have the Billy Goat, the Cleveland Indians have the Curse of Rocky Colavito. And, most famously, the Red Sox have the Curse of the Bambino—the fanciful tale told by sports writer Dan Shaughnessy in 1990 to explain the team’s suffering after trading away a young Babe Ruth. “Ruth didn’t stand up and throw goat hair in the ocean,” Shaughnessy says today. “But people took it seriously. They wrote pedantic essays, saying, ‘It’s impossible, it’s contrived.’ So’s Friday the 13th. It’s not meant to be scientific. It’s just a way to explain the unexplainable.” In that spirit, many folktales have arisen about what’s afflicting the Giants.
The Curse of Captain Eddie
The theory: The ghost of former Giant Eddie Grant, angry that his center-field plaque was “lost” in the move from New York to San Francisco, has haunted Giants teams ever since.
Who promotes it: After the Giants’ collapse in 2002, World War I buff Mike Hanlon wrote an online article that blamed the Giants for ignoring Grant.
The story: Grant, a light-hitting third baseman who played only two years in New York, became famous for the plaque that honored him as the most prominent Major Leaguer to die in World War I. But at the Polo Grounds’ last game, the plaque was stolen by unruly fans, then recovered by police and apparently sent west, where it was lost and seemingly forgotten. Prompted by Hanlon, current owner Peter Magowan had the Giants begin work on a replica, but the new plaque cracked twice during its construction. “It was almost like it didn’t want to get remade,” says Giants executive Nancy Donati. Eventually, the new plaque was installed in obscurity next to a ballpark elevator. Hanlon, who has led tours of the French battlefield where Grant died, brought war buffs to the park last year but never found the plaque. “I asked an usher almost 20 feet from it. He didn’t know anything about it.”
Probability factor: “The curse may be punishing whoever didn’t live up to the promise,” concedes longtime Giants executive Pat Gallagher.
The McCovey Curse
The theory: The Giants’ fate turned on a wicked line drive, hit by Willie McCovey, that could have won the 1962 World Series, but instead wound up snuffed in Yankee second baseman Bobby Richardson’s glove.
Who promotes it: Author Bruce Anderson, editor of VIA magazine, expounded on the curse in this magazine in April 2001.
The story: In the fateful at-bat, Giants lead-off hitter Matty Alou danced off third base for the tying run, Willie Mays edged off second for the winning run, and pitcher Ralph Terry served up a letter-high fastball to McCovey. The ball exploded off his bat, and Candlestick was ready to erupt with glee. Then Richardson caught the ball. Forty years later, Anderson wrote, “The cry of triumph that was muffled in Richardson’s glove still remains to be heard.” Two months after the Series, Charlie Brown (of Peanuts fame) glumly wondered, “Why couldn’t McCovey have hit the ball just three feet higher?”
Probability factor: At the time of Anderson’s treatise, the Giants had never come closer than they did in 1962. When, a year later, the Giants did hold a 5–0 lead and needed only eight outs to win the 2002 World Series, they again failed spectacularly.
The Curse of Candlestick
The theory: The Giants couldn’t win a title as long as they were haunted by their painful wretch of a ballpark.
Who promotes it: Legions of fans who braved many a frozen season, watching hot-dog wrappers and other trash blow around the field.
The story: Chub Feeney, owner Horace Stoneham’s right-hand man, stopped by to see the park under construction. As New Yorker writer Roger Angell reported, he was almost toppled out of the car onto his back by the wind. “[Feeney] asked the foreman, ‘Is it always this windy here?’ And the foreman told him, ‘Oh no—only between May and September, and only between 1 and 5.’” And that was only the start. One-time owner Bob Lurie says the stadium builder, Chuck Harney, thought the stadium would be named after him. When the public picked Candlestick instead, Harney was irate. “The concrete was not cured, and the heating system did not work,” Lurie said. “The city sued, but he had a heart attack and died.”
Probability factor: Think of it: Richard Nixon threw out the first pitch. A routine fly hit by Willie McCovey disappeared into the fog. And an earthquake disrupted a World Series. Sounds like a curse to us. Yet this theory was discredited when the Giants moved to Pac Bell—er, SBC, er, AT&T—Park in 2000, and their postseason penury continued.
The Krukow Kurse
The theory: The Giants can’t win the World Series until Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow stops predicting that the team will contend for the World Series.
Who promotes it: It showed up in a mysterious Wikipedia entry. Krukow first heard about it only a few months ago.
The story: The Wikipedia write-up calls this a “pseudo-legend” that “arises from the fact that…Krukow has historically been optimistic about the Giants’ chances at the beginning of each season.” After 14 years, you can see how a handful of Giants fans, tongue-in-cheek or not, might seize on Krukow’s sunny outlook as the bane of their existence. For even as he calls the Krukow Kurse “asinine” and insists he doesn’t predict a pennant every year, listen to how Krukow rationalizes his preseason outlook: “They always say, ‘How’s the team look?’ As a broadcaster, I always say, ‘If things fall into place, they’re going to win.’ I don’t know why anyone holds those things near and dear to their heart.”
Probability factor: Wikipedia has no attribution, reporting only that “some say” the curse exists. And yet: Krukow is an ex–Chicago Cub.
The Curse of Coogan’s Bluff
The theory: The Giants inflicted the curse on themselves by abandoning their loyal fans in New York. It’s named for the cliff that stood above the old Polo Grounds ballpark in Harlem, and also references Bobby Thomson’s home run, the Polo Grounds’ greatest moment, sometimes referred to as the “miracle at Coogan’s Bluff.”
Who promotes it: A few East Coast transplants and die-hard New York Giants fans, still bitter over the loss of the team.
The story: New York was where the great John McGraw and Christy Mathewson led the Giants to dominance in baseball’s earliest World Series, when Carl Hubbell struck out five Hall of Famers in a row in an all-star game where Willie Mays made the most famous catch in base-ball history—a back-to-the-plate masterpiece—in 1954. By 1957, though, the team was lousy. It brought out aging veterans like Bobby Thomson and Whitey Lock-man to play, losing the final game at the Polo Grounds 9–1 as John McGraw’s widow broke down in tears and angry fans rioted. With such a bitter ending, is it any wonder the San Francisco version of the Giants has failed to win a World Series?
Probability factor: The Giants last won the World Series in 1954, when they played at the Polo Grounds.
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