The Curse of Colonel Sanders?
As a lifelong Red Sox fan, I’ll be the first to admit that baseball “curses” are a bit overblown. All that the infamous “Curse of the Bambino” ever did was sell a trillion copies of a certain curly-haired sportswriter’s books. The Red Sox didn’t lose all those years because Babe Ruth was putting a voodoo hex on them from beyond the grave—they lost because they didn’t get big hits in big at-bats, field worth a damn, or pull Pedro after the seventh inning when he was serving up more meatballs than an IKEA food court. Not that I’m still hung up on that or anything.
But I digress. Perhaps you heard that a long-lost statue of our arch-nemesis Colonel Sanders was dredged out of the Dotonbori River in Japan earlier this week, supposedly ending a 24-year curse on the Hanshin Tigers, whose fans tossed the statue in the river in the first place. Can’t say I blame them. Well, the folks over at KFC are now offering the statue to the Chicago Cubs as a way to break the team’s own “Curse of the Billy Goat,” stemming from an incident in 1945 when a fan and his companion goat (yep) were tossed out of Wrigley Field’s bleachers because of the goat’s unpleasant odor.
Today, PETA wrote to the Cubs recommending that they turn down KFC’s offer. If Cubs fans believe that they haven’t won a World Series in 60 years because the ghost of one goat has it in for them, think about the consequences of offending the nearly 1 billion chickens who are tortured and killed for KFC every year. Here’s my prediction—if the Cubs accept this Colonel Sanders statue, there won’t be a World Series game at the friendly confines until KFC’s slaughterhouse suppliers stop scalding live chickens to death and the company adopts PETA’s recommended animal welfare program.
You heard it here first.
Written by Dan Shannon
