I know why the Pirates were so bad from 1992 until recent years. It had nothing to do with budgets, stadiums, bad trades, or a bad farm system. While they might seem determined to shoot themselves in the foot this year, their current struggles pale in comparison to the fallout from the end of their 1992 season. And it was all my mom’s fault.

Let me paint a picture for you. The year is 1992, the last time the Pirates made the NLCS. The day is October 14th. Game 7, bottom of the 9th. Two outs and Sid Bream on second base. Me sitting on the couch with my dad, a strapping young lad of zero years old.

My mother was a flight attendant. It’s a tough job, and she would be away from home for anywhere between three and four days depending on the trip she was working. And on that night of all nights, she was on her way home from a trip. Francisco Cabrera was up to bat just as she walked through the door.

“Ryan can’t be up this late!” she exclaimed. “I’m taking him upstairs to bed!”

She takes me up the stairs. Cabrera hits a double. Sid Bream scores. And just like that, the curse was cast. To this very day when my dad and I watch baseball she isn’t allowed in the room.