Saturday, October 22, 2016

Here is why the Chicago Cubs will win the World Series in 2016.

I have been eating M&Ms since I was old enough to remember.  My Uncle Charlie lived a few blocks away and it seemed like he always had a bag for me.  When I wasn't eating M&Ms from him, I was chewing on the collar of his flannel shirt, but that is a story for my memoirs.

I have not just been eating M&Ms, but I have been eating them a certain way; that is by separating them apart of colors of the rainbow.  Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue and Brown.  Of course there were the years when the color Tan made an appearance and Red dyes were harmful to your health and don't get me started on how to eat special edition bags with only two colors.

My methodology is that after separating them by color, I then eat one of each color until there are one of each color.  Here is where things get fun.  I then take the remaining six M&Ms and place them in the palm of my right hand and make a fist, leaving enough room for them to breathe.  I then go through an iterative process where I shake them M&Ms up, and blindly eat one at a time, reshaking them up in between.

When I down to the final M&M, I try to predict the color.  If I get it right, then that is my lucky color for the day.

Using an unscientific estimate, I have probably eaten 2,000 single serving bags of M&Ms in my life.  If you add in the 1lb and 3lb bags which offer multiple opportunities to perform this ritual, I would guess that I have performed this ritual about 2,500 times in my lifetime.  Peanut, plain, peanut butter, almond, coffee nut; I do not discriminate.

To the best of my recollection, over 40 years of M&M consumption, I have never predicted the last M&M color correctly.  Statistically this seems impossible.  After all, each trial is independent of the other trials and the likelihood that you guess the correct color is 1 out of 6 or 16.67%.  But that is my story and I am sticking to it.

Rewind to Friday, October 7, 2016.  My wife Rachel and I were on our way to Chicago to sit in the bleachers at Wrigley Field for game 2 of the NLDS when the Cubs played the San Francisco Giants.  That day, I ate two bags of M&Ms; both of which were peanut butter.

On the first bag, I got down to the final M&M.  I told myself that if it were orange or brown (Giants colors), that the Cubs would fall victim to the curse and lose the series.  But if it came up blue or red (Cubs colors) that it was destiny and the Cubs would not only win the NLDS, but break the curse and go on to win the World Series.

The last M&M.  I guessed BLUE.  It came up BLUE.  And I was on a roll.

On the second bag a few hours later, the same consequences were on the table.  The fate of the Chicago Cubs did not rest on their ability to play the game, but on my ability to guess the last M&M color correctly.

The last M&M.  I guessed RED.  It came up RED.  And the rest is history.

So now on the verge of game 6 of the NLCS, where the anticipated National League Cy Young Award winning pitcher from the Cubs is opposing the best pitcher in the game for the Dodgers, I have not a care in the world because the outcome has already been determined.

By destiny.  By M&Ms.  That trumps any curse.