An exercise in exorcism

If the Hanshin Tigers can reach the World Series, so can Cubs, Red Sox

After 18 torturous years beneath the toxic sludge that passes for the Dotonbori River, Colonel Sanders can at last, mercifully, rest in peace. The Hanshin Tigers are going to the Japan Series for the first time since 1985. The Curse of the Colonel has been lifted.

That's the word from my pal Mark McCracken in Osaka, Japan, where he watched some 5,300 fans leap from a bridge Monday night after the Tigers beat the Hiroshima Carp to clinch the Central League pennant.

It was the same scene 18 years ago, after the Tigers last won the Series. Crowds gathered at Dotonbori, and jumpers sang the praises of their favorite player before hurling themselves into the river. However, nobody on hand would jump in honor of American Randy Bass, so the crowd stormed the local Kentucky Fried Chicken and stole a life-size replica of Colonel Sanders. They tossed him in the river and he sank immediately, never to be seen again.

Though it was meant as a loving gesture on the part of the fans, the unruly behavior was a huge social faux pas, and the Tigers paid dearly for it over the past 18 years. Nevertheless, the Tigers continued to be one of the most endearing teams in Japan ... perhaps because of their hopelessness.

Which brings us to this very important point in our own baseball season: If the Hanshin Tigers can get to the Japan Series, then certainly there's hope for the snakebit, the jinxed and the cursed of Major League Baseball.

Which is why I implore Red Sox fans to head to the Charles River tonight, sing a song for Pedro and take the leap of faith. You Cubs and White Sox fans, pay homage to Sammy and Big Frank along the banks of the Chicago River. And in San Fran? I don't recommend a header off of the Golden Gate, but maybe a dip in McCovey Cove and a ballad for Barry.

We'll exorcise these ghosts together, knock off the Yanks and Braves in the first round and gather for a final four of baseball's best-vexed clubs, as previewed below:

The Voice of Reason's All-Jinxed ALCS   No titles since 1918 1917 Why Not? Curse of the Bambino Black Sox Scandal No, Really ... Why Not? A picture is worth 1,000 words. In this case, none of them publishable. No, not because of Harold Baines. Because of those collars. You're lucky we couldn't find pictures of the shorts. Closest Call Four trips to the World Series since 1918, four Game 7 losses. Pick your poison: Enos Slaughter's mad dash in '46; Bob Gibson's lockdown in '67; Joe Morgan's ninth-inning single in '75; or Mookie Wilson's squibbler in '86 (yes, this was Game 6, but you get the point). Since dumping the 1919 Series, the White Sox have been back to the Fall Classic only once -- in 1959. They whacked the Dodgers 11-0 in Game 1, then lost four of the next five despite Don Drysdale and Sandy Koufax winning but one game between them. Gipper factor Ted Williams, who has been cryogenically frozen Bill Veeck, who just came up with his next ballpark promotion National Anthem James Taylor Koko Taylor Literary Reference The Teammates, by David Halberstam Eight Men Out, by Eliot Asinof Factoid Boston won inaugural Series in 1903. Lucky 3's: White Sox won division in '83 and '93. Greatest Living Legend Yaz Minnie, but don't tell Frank Thomas, lest he start pouting Favorite Fare Chowdah Soul food from the old Maxwell Street Market Funkiest Aspect of The Park The Monster The smell Hallowed Ground Section 42, Row 37, Seat 21. The seat is painted red to commemorate Ted Williams' 502-foot blast on June 9, 1946. Fans can stand at the original Comiskey's original home plate, which is now in a parking lot. Alternative Seating I got two ... they're not together and one's behind a pillar. $500 each I got two behind the dugout. In fact I got like 50. Name your price. Pregame Ceremony The ghosts of Babe Ruth and Shoeless Joe Jackson emerge from the Green Monster and stroll to the pitcher's mound, where they share an uncomfortably long hug before throwing out the ceremonial first pitches ... Ruth to Carlton Fisk. Jackson to Carlton Fisk. Defining Moment Tied with a runner on third in the bottom of the ninth of Game 7, Minnie Minoso ambles up to the plate and slaps a single to left off of Sam "May Day" Malone. But the 80-year-old Minoso has lost a step or two and he's thrown out at first by left fielder Manny Ramirez and the game goes to extra innings. How It All Pans Out Sox in 7 The Voice of Reason's All-Jinxed NLCS   No Titles Since 1908 1954 Why Not? Curse of the Billy Goat Nevah Shoulda Left Noo Yawk No, Really ... Why not? Budget-conscious corporate ownership has cultivated atmosphere that winning isn't everything Left Coast reversed polarization of power. N.Y. Giants 5, Brooklyn Dodgers 1; L.A. Dodgers 5, S.F. Giants 0 Closest Call Cubs went 0-7 in the World Series between 1910 and 1945, and only once in that time did they ever have a chance to win one: In 1945, a 12-inning victory in Game 6 set up a decisive Game 7 at Wrigley. But Detroit scored five runs in the top of the first en route to a 9-3 victory. The Cubs haven't won a playoff series since. Since leaving New York in 1958, the Giants have been to the Series three times, twice losing in seven games. They squandered a 3-2 lead last year to Anaheim, but was it any more devastating than the Game 7 loss to the Yankees in '62, when Willie McCovey lined out to end the game with the tying run on second? Gipper Factor Harry Caray, the cartoon-faced broadcaster who sat for 15 years in the Cubs' booth and came to embody the spirit of the Cubs' fruitless efforts. Charlie Brown, the cartoon-faced cartoon who sat on the curb after the 1962 World Series shouting, "WHY COULDN'T McCOVEY HAVE HIT THE BALL JUST THREE FEET HIGHER?" National Anthem Wayne Messmer's succinct and traditional version Game time moved back an hour to accomodate Grateful Dead's 48-minute anthem Literary Reference The Million-To-One-Team: Why the Chicago Cubs Haven't Won a Pennant Since 1945, by George Castle Underworld, by Don DeLillo Factoid Fifty years ago this week (9-20-53), Ernie Banks hits the first of his 512 career home runs. Forty years ago this week (9-22-63), the Alou brothers share the same outfield for the first time -- Matty in LF, Felipe in CF, and Jesus in RF. Greatest Living Legend Ernie Banks Willie Mays Favorite Fare Vienna Sah-sidge and Old Style Aged brie and Sterling merlot Funkiest Aspect of The Park Ivy-covered walls Water-covered cove Hallowed Ground The Bleachers Willie Mays statue Alternative Seating Rooftop Kayak Pregame Ceremony A softball doubleheader between the Cubs and Giants teams that met in the 1989 NLCS and the 1998 one-game playoff. In the opener, the teams vow not to quit until Andre Dawson gets one out of the infield ... game lasts 4 1/2 hours. In the second game, the Giants find out that they still can't touch Steve Trachsel even when he's pitching underhand. Defining Moment Kerry Wood dusts Barry Bonds in the first inning of Game 1 prompting some fireworks. Cubs skipper Dusty Baker loves Bonds like a son, but can't stop himself from screaming at Bonds to stop leaning over the plate in that Robo-cop get-up of his. Jason Schmidt responds by brushing back Moises Alou in the bottom half of the first. Giants manager Felipe Alou loves Moises Alou like a son, but can't stop himself from screaming at him to call home a little more often. How It All Pans Out With the Cubs one strike away from a Game 7 victory, a massive earthquake swallows the stadium. Oddly enough, it's in Chicago. The World Series is canceled.

David Vecsey's Voice of Reason column appears weekly on SI.com.