Category talk:Sports-related curses
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http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/miller/274004_miller15.html
'Chunky Soup Curse' thickens
By TED MILLER P-I COLUMNIST
KIRKLAND -- When Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger drove his face into an innocent windshield this week, those in the know exchanged a grim, knowing nod.
Reggie White. Donovan McNabb. Terrell Davis. Kurt Warner. Brian Urlacher. Michael Strahan.
And now Roethlisberger.
Each tasted soup and then tasted ruin.
Or at least a persistent hamstring injury.
It's "The Chunky Soup Curse!"
Da da da dummmmm!
The Curse was discovered in 2002 by Dan Lewis, a New York attorney, freelance sportswriter and dedicated blogger, who noticed that those who endorse Chunky Soup sooner or later encounter great woe.
The only pitchmen to as of yet escape (mostly) unscathed are John Lynch and Jerome Bettis.
advertising This would be but a curiosity if not for a dark detail of local concern that hovers ominously.
Roethlisberger is not the only new star enlisted by Chunky Soup this year.
The other is ...
"That's interesting," Seahawks quarterback Matt Hasselbeck said upon learning of the curse that soon will threaten him. "It's a good thing I'm not superstitious."
Fine. But, Matt, please forgive beleaguered Seahawks fans who are knocking on wood, rubbing their rabbits feet and crossing themselves. Just in case.
Hasselbeck and his mother, Betsy, in April were announced as the new spokespeople for Chunky Soup, along with Roethlisberger and his stepmother, Brenda.
The Roethlisbergers were supposed to start filming their commercial Wednesday, but it's hard to enunciate with a mouthful of glass, a chunky meal courtesy of a 62-year-old woman's Chrysler New Yorker that Big Ben ate because he wasn't wearing a helmet while riding his motorcycle.
But how could something so All-American and wholesome -- hot soup with big chunks of stuff in it -- provide such a dire burden?
Lewis believes a cataclysm of negative karmic forces spawned an enduring curse because the original ads featured imposter mothers -- actresses pretending to be a player's real mother.
O, Draconian devil! Oh, lame saint! So dark the con of the fan when the feminine bloodline is obscured!
"Mary Magdalene predates this, but I understand what you're saying," Lewis said Wednesday while standing outside a Manhattan courthouse.
Lewis recommended informing Hasselbeck of his fate.
"Forewarned is forearmed," he sagely noted.
Hasselbeck was unimpressed, even amused by the preponderance of evidence. He said he and his mom were both honored and excited to be chosen. He insisted he consumes vast quantities of Chunky Soup; that he was a regular Chunky Soup connoisseur.
"My favorite? I don't even know what it's called ... it's like sausage and gumbo," he said. "But not too spicy for me. I'm from Boston."
His only concern was his mother, an accomplished athlete and parental disciplinarian who doesn't fit the matronly mold coveted by the soup purveyors.
"She might be a little nervous because they're going to make her play this older, Mrs. Doubtfire-type person," he said. "That's not really her."
This flippant nonchalance, while typically a part of Hasselbeck's charm, felt dangerous in regard to this most serious of topics.
He needed to know there's more to worry about.
Not only must he and the Seahawks concern themselves this fall with the "Chunky Soup Curse," there's also the "Madden Curse."
Barry Sanders, Eddie George, Daunte Culpepper, Marshall Faulk, Michael Vick, Ray Lewis and Donovan McNabb each are former cover boys for "Madden NFL" by EA Sports. Each turned in bad or injury-riddled seasons after they earned that distinction.
On the cover in 2007?
NFL MVP Shaun Alexander.
Great Odin's Raven! Cue the "Twilight Zone" music.
Moreover, there's the distinct possibility of a monstrous karmic troika. What if the Seahawks appear on the cover of Sports Illustrated's NFL preview? That's the jinx of jinxes.
Hasselbeck perked up on this, calling it, "The Bermuda Triangle."
It was a quick-witted and felicitous turn of phrase. Still, his lack of concern was distressing, his wry grin suggesting an updated version of Alfred E. Neuman -- "What, me worry?"
"I'm almost anti-superstitious," he explained. "The fact that you're saying that makes me want to get a Sports Illustrated cover."
Hasselbeck claims he's never been superstitious about anything -- that he, in fact, enjoys messing with coaches and teammates who are superstitious.
A coach wants to avoid a bad luck hotel for an away game? A teammate worries about where he's standing in the pregame meal line? A receiver ends a drill with a dropped pass? A lineman loses his lucky underpants?
An NFL star goes kersplat after hoisting a bowl of soup?
"It's a little silly to me," Hasselbeck said.
Perhaps. But keep your fingers crossed, just in case.
TMC1982 June 16, 2006 UTC
