Sunday, October 17, 2010


Husband, who is normally a very rational man, has definite superstitions when it comes to sports. His all revolve around hats.

At the start of every hockey season he buys himself a new Philadelphia Flyers cap. This must be worn at all times when the Flyers are on the ice. However, if the Flyers should start to suck, the hat comes off because (obviously) the hat mojo isn't working. Of course he doesn't actually believe his headgear affects the outcome of games, but it's a superstition nonetheless.

At the start of tonight's playoff game between the Giants and the Phillies, Husband was wearing his Giants cap. However, the Giants soon began some form of suckage and the hat came off. And Husband (who didn't wear the cap last night, when the Giants won) proclaimed this a no-hat series as far as he's concerned.

Superstitions are odd things. I started my college career as an acting major and that's a profession overcrowded with superstitions. No whistling backstage. Saying "good luck" is bad luck. And, the biggie, you must never, never, never say the name Macbeth in a theatre. If you even quote from it, the production is jinxed until you go out of the theatre and turn around three times clockwise. (Who comes up with this shit?)

I don't believe in these, but I adhered to them because everyone else did and I didn't want to piss them off. But it's a weird thing.

I don't know that I have any superstitions. I work around tons of black cats. I've walked under ladders. I've broken mirrors. I don't knock wood or throw salt over my shoulder. But I respect other's superstitions so I don't do things to upset them. But it's odd how these things start and continue.