"Hijacked by those who focus exclusively on the negativity."

Has there ever been a more apt description of what's happened around here in the last 10 years or so?

I've spoken often on this topic with one of our columnists, Bill Reynolds. He wrote a terrific book on the 1967 season, and in the course of his research he discovered that, during the entire Impossible Dream season, it went completely unreported that the Sox hadn't won a World Series championship since 1918. "You didn't read it anywhere," he said. "It was never mentioned."

Similarly, he recalls heading out to Shea Stadium with our Red Sox beat writer at the time, the late Art Turgeon, for Game Six of the 1986 World Series. "You know," Turgeon said in the cab, in an I-bet-you-don't-know-this tone, "if the Red Sox win tonight, it'll be the first time they've won the World Series since 1918. Imagine that?" And Reynolds said he was truly surprised; not only didn't he realize it had been that long, but it wasn't a topic of conversation with anybody.

So why are things different today?

In my opinion, there are two main reasons we've gone from there to here:

1) The Red Sox lost Game Six in such unbelievably horrific fashion that the notion of "a curse" began to take hold. [I remember Dwight Evans, in the postgame mourning after Game Seven, saying something to the effect of: "You know, I never believed in curses. But after 68 years, I'm starting to wonder."]

2) Dan Shaughnessy's book -- which basically attempted to somehow link 70-plus years of unrelated incidents -- tied a neat, shallow, catchy bow around the team's history.

When the book was first printed, I honestly thought it would have a short shelf life. I had a sinking feeling I was wrong one day in either 1992 or '93, when I was listening to a local talk show and the host -- a fill-in, someone who doesn't do talk shows very well -- wrapped up a discussion about the Red Sox' bullpen woes by proclaiming: "Well, I guess it's all due to the Curse Of The Bambino." It was inapt, inappropriate . . . and a sign that the phrase had entered the public consciousness.

The idea that Ken Burns, among others, is now speaking out in opposition to this vile piece of revisionist history is a good sign. But I can't say I have much hope that the genie is going to slink quietly back into the bottle. As we discussed yesterday, the only way to stop it is to a) win the World Series, and, preferably, b) knock off the Yankees along the way.

It's doable. Unlike the well-balanced, weakness-free championship teams the Yankees fielded in the late '90s, the current New York team is a combination of overwhelming strengths (offensive strengths, mostly) and surprising weaknesses (specifically on defense). They're no longer the Borg of baseball, as they were in '98 and '99; there are chinks in the armor. They can be had, and the Sox demonstrated that pretty clearly over the weekend.

But until the Sox actually take them, I fear the Ken Burnses of the world will be sad voices in the wilderness.