Sports superstitions are strange things. Wade Boggs needed his chicken before every game. Pedro Cerrano only learned in the end he didn’t need Jobu’s help. The Eagles’ playoff beards make them all look like they’re homeless and/or registered sex offenders. My New York Rangers Stanley Cup hat has spooky powers. But these are all fairly unobtrusive methods.
One Charlotte-area woman has the least practical ritual since Raymond Babbitt had to watch “The People’s Court”: in order for the Panthers to win, she needs to watch the game bottomless. I know where I’ll be Saturday night, because somewhere in this grand country of ours, someone will be watching football without their pants, and it’s not a fat hairy dude in his boxers.