I walked out of my Tufts University dorm room that next morning wearing nothing but grey. I swear it looked like everyone was wearing grey that day. Even the sky was grey, no sun shone through the dark and dismal clouds overhead. To call it a dreary day would be a slap in the face to meteorologists and sports fans everywhere. The loss the night before was all any one could talk about, as painful as it was fans still needed to get it off their chest, an ultimately useless form of therapy. There was as much sorrow as there was disbelief. How could that have happened? Twelve hours earlier, a baseball had rolled between Bill Buckner’s legs. It was as devastating a loss a sports fan could imagine. New York and Boston Sox still had one game left to play but every long-suffering Red Sox fan knew there was no way the Sox could pull out a win in Game Seven. They didn’t. It was 1986. The curse of the Bambino was real. Carry on, Falcons fans: http://sportschump.net/2017/02/07/curses/18569/
