My brother-in-law Dennis is an excellent guitar player, but told me once that – on the rare occasion – his hands don’t cooperate. His right hand might let down his left. Hard to believe, because his playing always sounds great. Then, I saw the NCAA Final.
The Butler Bulldogs made no music at all against the UConn Huskies, and as I watched shot after shot clang off the rim, I thought about one hand letting down the other. The Butler players knew how to shoot the basketball, for crying out loud. They were in the national championship game.
But for some reason, no matter what the shot, it would not go through the rim. Layup? Bang! In-and-out. Four-foot jumpshot? Not even close. Three pointers from downtown were working better than short ones, but not by much.
It was a horrible display of basketball skills. Less than two-of-ten went in the entire game. That’s counting the short-gimmee shots that missed as well.
Bad luck?
Maybe. Some people say ‘you make your own luck.’ I think great skills have something to do with inviting luck. As for Butler Monday night: If it wasn’t for real bad luck, they wouldn’t have no luck at all.
Some days good fortune is smiling, and if Butler lost their luck somewhere, I know where it turned up Tuesday afternoon.
I locked up the shop for a few minutes to run an errand and as I turned the corner, the car sputtered. The gas gauge on the GrandAm – like everything electrical on it – is suspect. It showed a full tank. I was a block away from a Murphy’s station and decided I ought to be on the safe side.
When the car pulled adjacent to the pump, the engine died. Cold dead dry. The gas cap on the car was exactly even with the pump’s nozzle.
I wish the good fortune could have applied to something like a lottery ticket, but – hey! Luck is where it finds you.