Another (sportswriter) writes some (junk).

Brad Parks Crank Yanks Bill Buckner:

"He was at home at his farm in Idaho yesterday afternoon when he answered the phone and was met with the suggestion that, perhaps if the Red Sox won the World Series that night, people in New England might finally put their grudge against him to rest.

'That's not up to me,' he growled. 'That's up to you (sportswriters). You guys are the ones who write all this (junk).'

But wouldn't the glory of 2004 chase away the ghosts of 1986? Erase the pain of that one little ground ball that happened to sneak through his wickets in a game in which the Red Sox were one strike away from a championship? Make it somehow mean less now that the curse had finally been lifted?

'This series has nothing to do with the series I played,' Buckner said, then, before hanging up, added, 'I wouldn't want to have your job, to have to write all the (junk) you do. You take care now.' "


Maybe Buckner's not really tortured by the curse. Maybe he just doesn't like you.