Wish Me Luck

Beginner’s Luck.

First time’s the charm.

Fortuitous, jammy, miraculous, providential, heaven smiles on you, fluky, as luck would have it, in luck, more by luck than judgment, someone’s lucky day, when your ship comes in.

It’s happened to me.

Twice.

Let me tell you about it . . .

I’ve always been interested in sports.

Playing them, not watching them.

An important side note.

Back to my story . . .

Annually, throughout my school years, all of us were bussed to another school to participate in ‘Track Meet’.

It was our only field trip and a wonderful, joyous escape from the normal, mundane, humdrum grind of daily learning.

At the track meet, one would be expected to participate in different events.

My specialties were running, long jump, and high jump. And I had been practicing.

Ad infinitum. Ad nauseam. (Emphasis on the ‘nauseam’.)

This was a long, long time ago . . . sigh.

At one meet, the hosting school introduced a new event. The softball throw.

Okay, it wasn’t complicated. You merely took the ball.

And threw it.

Easy peasy.

My friends encouraged me to enter.

I did.

I threw that ball clear to the other end of the mapped-out area. Set a record.

Of course, I was never able to approach that distance with my other two throws.

Or ever again.

First time lucky.

My second experience was during college, again at a track meet, this time with other people who had trained.

I had been practicing my sprint, long jump and high jump.

I’m nothing if not predictable.

At the meet, someone put a javelin in my hand.

With no other training or experience, I took that sucker and threw it.

And set a new college record.

My teacher, seeing me as some sort of prodigy, grabbed me and proceeded to train.

And I never again was able to throw that stupid stick anywhere near what I had that first time.

Beginner’s luck.

See?

P.S. I’m going out to buy my first, ever lottery ticket.

Wish me beginner’s luck.