I had thought it was George Vecsey’s 1986 column (although he humbly disagrees). In any case, the phrase seemed to absolve some of my Red Sox ownership’s bad decisions in the late 80s — the curse made them do it — and it worked backwards somehow as well: forgetting to mail Carlton Fisk’s contract on time was no doubt due to cosmic wrath over the Bambino. And it inspired the silly “Goat” curse in Chicago, which now has been so magnificiently retired. Who brings a goat to a game anyway? Now, an octopus to a hockey game I can understand.