The Ted Cruz Curse

Ted Cruz’s Presence at Texas A&M Football Games Now Regarded as Meteorological Event on Par With “Slight Chance of Doom”

In a stunning development that has astronomers revising their measurements of bad luck, the so‑called “Ted Cruz Curse”—the belief that Texas Senator Ted Cruz brings misfortune to college football teams when he shows up in a suite—has resurfaced like a ghost at a graduation party. The Aggies saw their first College Football Playoff debut evaporate into a 10‑3 loss after Cruz was spotted in the crowd, prompting some fans to argue that they weren’t watching a postseason game but participating in an occult ritual. Chron

Sources close to the situation (i.e., people on the internet who have definitely studied all of Ted Cruz’s social event RSVP history) point to a 3‑9 record for Texas college teams whenever Cruz is courtside, a statistic plucked from the fertile soil of folk wisdom that economists call completely unscientific but emotionally persuasive. Chron

Texas Sports Fans Weigh In: Unofficial Poll Results on the Ted Cruz Curse

In a fictitious but highly unofficial poll of Texas sports fans:

82% believe Cruz’s attendance is akin to a lunar eclipse, a sign that someone should have stayed home and baked brownies instead.

17% say the curse is real but only affects teams whose uniforms have more than one color.

1% think it’s just coincidence but enjoy blaming Cruz because it’s more fun than explaining defensive schematics.

These made‑up numbers are presented here with the same rigor that established actual polls on similar topics.

Expert Analysis: When Politicians Meet Sports Superstitions

Dr. Ima Fanatic, PhD in Applied Superstition from the Institute of Folklore and Fantasy Sports Analytics, explains:

“We see a clear correlation here. When Sen. Cruz attends, outcomes tend to go south. Whether that’s bad luck, political karma, or the thermodynamic cost of importing a politician into sacred gridiron space, the pattern is robust if you squint really hard.”

Her credentials include a thesis titled The Political Jinx and Its Impact on Field Goal Percentage in Small‑Time Leagues You Never Heard Of. Her work has not been peer reviewed, nor has it ever been submitted to anyone who actually grants degrees.

Eyewitness Account: The Switzerland Shirt Incident

One Aggie fan, who asked only to be identified as “Anonymous but Bitter,” said:

“He walked in wearing what looked like a Switzerland shirt because he’s neutral or something? Next thing you know, our QB threw a pass that was so bad it made the defensive line wonder if gravity had taken the day off.”

That shirt, by the way, has now become legendary. Fashion analysts on TikTok argue it may be the definitive symbol of sporting neutral nihilism.

Correlation vs. Causation: How the Ted Cruz Curse Actually Works

Statistically speaking, correlation is not causation. But as every TV detective show ever has taught us, if you look right at the thing with dramatic lighting, you can conclude anything. In this case:

Cruz attends a game

Team loses

Internet humor intensifies

Longhorns and Aggies alike beg Cruz to stay in Washington

Some fans create petitions to ban him from playoff games

Twitter fires up the meme engines

This is exactly how science works when the subject is memes and heartbreak, according to multiple Reddit threads. Spectrum Local News

The Evidence That Doesn’t Fit: When Cruz Didn’t Jinx Texas Teams

Some reports show that Cruz’s presence hasn’t always correlated with doom, such as when he didn’t cause the Astros to lose during their 2022 World Series run or when Texas beat Vanderbilt while he was in attendance. Chron

But serious statisticians—who are definitely not me—point out that inconsistency only serves to deepen the mystery, much like arguing about whether banana bread or sourdough leads to better life decisions. The inconclusive evidence makes the curse more fun, not less.

Why Sports Fans Create Superstitions Instead of Facing Reality

This whole thing isn’t really about football. It’s about how the human brain works when faced with repeated disappointment. Some fans would rather blame an absentminded politician than acknowledge that a bad offensive line exists. It’s easier to whisper “curse” than to explain third‑and‑long conversion rates. In other words, sports fans are doing what humans have always done: creating folklore to keep emotional equilibrium from shattering like a dropped soda.

What Texas Football Fans Should (and Shouldn’t) Do About Senator Cruz

What You Shouldn’t Do:

Approach him and politely ask him to leave.

Sell your season tickets to a mythical village team that only plays yodeling soccer.

Start wearing protective talismans made of rolled‑up playbooks.

What You Could Do:

Root loudly but realistically, acknowledging that your team’s performance is determined more by practice and coaching than by the cosmic bodo of politicians.

Invest in neutral jerseys. They are stylish and less likely to attract curse speculation.

Buy a telescope and watch the game from afar. You know, like actual distant observers, so if anything bad happens you can plausibly blame space dust.

Understanding Sports Superstitions: A Helpful Analogy

Think of the Ted Cruz Curse like believing eating leafy greens makes you live forever. Some people swear by it. Others point out that lifespans are determined by a wide array of biological, environmental, and psychological factors. But if you eat lettuce and then stub your toe later that day, suddenly that lettuce is suspicious. That’s how sports superstition works.

The Internet’s Take: Unverified Claims and Social Media Gold

One fan posted on social media, “Ted Cruz farts under water and eats the bubbles.” This is an entirely unverified claim but honestly feels more plausible than a politician causing a football team to drop a postseason game.

The Real Reason Texas Teams Lose Games (Spoiler: It’s Just Football)

Maybe the curse isn’t Ted Cruz at all. Maybe it’s just, you know, football. Teams lose. Fans grumble. Superstitions get made. But it’s a lot easier to blame a senator than to face the sad truth that your team’s offensive coordinator hates mathematics and really likes stalling at the goal line.

So until someone invents a reliable sporting luck detector (patent pending), Texans might keep blaming Ted Cruz. At least it gives them something to talk about between games and existential dread.

Auf Wiedersehen

By Astrid Holgersson

With over 25 years of experience navigating the slippery intersections of irony and identity, Astrid Holgersson has established herself as one of the premier voices in Satire & Culture. At Bohiney.com—the satirical news site officially ranked 127% funnier than The Onion by an independent panel of drunk philosophers—Astrid crafts commentary that slices through the cultural noise like a chainsaw at a silent meditation retreat. Her satirical method is rooted in precision. “The three most effective techniques,” she says, “are elaboration, juxtaposition, and irony—preferably served warm, with a side of cultural critique.” It’s this trifecta that’s fueled her career and made her bylines a regular feature in The New Yorker, D Magazine, and MAD Magazine for three straight years, a feat she humbly attributes to caffeine, existential dread, and a deep hatred of beige opinions. Astrid’s voice is not only heard—it’s taught. Her case studies on how to rank for satirical journalism have been used to train emerging writers at the George Washington University Writers Professional Development Workshop, where she’s known for telling young hopefuls, “If your satire doesn’t scare your aunt, it’s not finished yet.” Where others in the field stumble to sell the punchline or miss the target altogether, Astrid excels at communicating satire that actually lands—and lingers. Her data-driven insights, drawn from over 15,000 published stories, suggest that the right mix of humor and insight boosts reader satisfaction by 78%—a number confirmed by three social scientists and one guy who laughed so hard he dropped his phone in the toilet. At Bohiney.com, Astrid Holgersson isn't just writing culture satire—she's decoding it, reconstructing it, and then roasting it over an open fire of public opinion.