Yesterday’s post received a lot of commentary from close friends and family members. Mostly women. “Don’t feel that your texts are bad when you send them to (the 20yo),” or “Are you ok?” In all honesty, I’m quite superstitious. Having not sent a text of encouragement since the tournament began, I’m feeling that now I can’t. They won again last night. And I can’t possibly switch things up at this point.
I’m a finger crosser. I’m sure my early stages of arthritis are a direct result of watching 28 years of baseball.
I married a baseball player. And my superstitions didn’t come from him. Actually, my mother passed them along to me long ago. She roots for the underdog. She crosses her fingers. She uses her “magic” to get strikeouts. She truly believes in Karma, and that the “better man will win”. And most of all, she knows you can’t be the one to break the luck.
So when you see me with my fingers in my pockets or tucked under my arms, you know what’s going on.