TheAmp
02-28-2005, 07:46 PM
Irieguy's and gigabet's posts inspired me to write about my relationship and experience with random events, what is sometimes referred to as "luck", "un-natural forces", "god", or whatever you want to call it.
This is my story. And it's real. Or unreal. I "really" don't know. I am going to tell you how a miraculous event changed my life, and how I became a gambler at the age of 9. This is not a story about choice or free will. I didn't choose "it", and I don't believe "it" choose me. "It" just happened. And I happened to be there.
When I was 8 years old, my family moved to the United States. I fell in love with baseball, hot dogs, and American music. After one year in California we moved to New-York. I listened to WNBC radio all day long. 1977. Boston's "More than a feeling" drove my dad insane. He almost broke my radio because of that song. Foreigner hit the charts with "It feels like the first time". It sure did. Reggie Jackson led the Yankees to an amazing World Series victory. I was lucky enough to be in Yankee stadium for game 2. The bleachers were fine with me.
WNBC had this promo, inviting listeners to call the station, two or three times a day, at a specific time, and take a shot at free prizes. The sixth caller would win a stereo set, sofa, whatever. Every time, they had a different prize. So I took a shot. The announcer said to call and win 100$ cash. Cool. I wanted a catcher's mitt and a mask. Like Thurman Munson, my hero. First try, the line is busy. OK, I can't complain. Only a hundred thousand people (or more) are trying to win one hundred bucks. Why me? But I tried again. And the line was not busy. No answer this time. I wait, and wait. One more ring. That's it, I am about to hang up. My big brother jumps on me and saves the phone, as if he knew I was going to win. And I did. "Congratulations, you are our sixth caller and you win 100$ !!" I was shocked. Speechless. What can I say? And even if I could talk, I barely knew any English...And it was broadcasted all around the big apple. I won! I hit the jackpot...Unreal.
But wait, this is only the beginning. A few hours later, my big brother decided to take a shot at it too. This time, a new radio tape was up for grabs. He said "If a dumbass like you can win, it should be a piece of cake". I don't know why, but I was nervous, really tense. As if the odds that he will win are only 2 to 1 against. What did I know; 9 year old kids' don't attend statistics class.
But he won alright. It was easy like taking candy from a baby. He got out of his room with his annoying smile. A 'big brother' smile. "I gotcha again!". I didn't believe him. Would you? Even when I heard his voice chatting with the WNBC announcer, that had to be a dream. A bad dream. A bad beat.
What are the odds against such an event, two events that is, on the same day? I don't know, and it doesn't matter. I was never a religious person, but that was an act of god. From that day on, I had my own religion. I would roll the dice for hours, just to see if I can guess the numbers. I played cards, backgammon, yatzee...any game that involves random mechanism.
I asked my father, a distinguished professor, how can he explain what happened. "There is a saying, son":
" It is impossible that the improbable should never happen !!"".
This can be proved mathematically, he explained.
Thus, "that we shall not speak of" is not only probable, it is a certainty. It HAS to happen to me, you, and everybody. It's just a matter of time...
Oh, and I forgot...My brother and I never stopped trying to win another prize. We thought WNBC is easy money. Fish. Our allowance. Two years later, we left the states, without any more prizes. Now how could that be ????
This is my story. And it's real. Or unreal. I "really" don't know. I am going to tell you how a miraculous event changed my life, and how I became a gambler at the age of 9. This is not a story about choice or free will. I didn't choose "it", and I don't believe "it" choose me. "It" just happened. And I happened to be there.
When I was 8 years old, my family moved to the United States. I fell in love with baseball, hot dogs, and American music. After one year in California we moved to New-York. I listened to WNBC radio all day long. 1977. Boston's "More than a feeling" drove my dad insane. He almost broke my radio because of that song. Foreigner hit the charts with "It feels like the first time". It sure did. Reggie Jackson led the Yankees to an amazing World Series victory. I was lucky enough to be in Yankee stadium for game 2. The bleachers were fine with me.
WNBC had this promo, inviting listeners to call the station, two or three times a day, at a specific time, and take a shot at free prizes. The sixth caller would win a stereo set, sofa, whatever. Every time, they had a different prize. So I took a shot. The announcer said to call and win 100$ cash. Cool. I wanted a catcher's mitt and a mask. Like Thurman Munson, my hero. First try, the line is busy. OK, I can't complain. Only a hundred thousand people (or more) are trying to win one hundred bucks. Why me? But I tried again. And the line was not busy. No answer this time. I wait, and wait. One more ring. That's it, I am about to hang up. My big brother jumps on me and saves the phone, as if he knew I was going to win. And I did. "Congratulations, you are our sixth caller and you win 100$ !!" I was shocked. Speechless. What can I say? And even if I could talk, I barely knew any English...And it was broadcasted all around the big apple. I won! I hit the jackpot...Unreal.
But wait, this is only the beginning. A few hours later, my big brother decided to take a shot at it too. This time, a new radio tape was up for grabs. He said "If a dumbass like you can win, it should be a piece of cake". I don't know why, but I was nervous, really tense. As if the odds that he will win are only 2 to 1 against. What did I know; 9 year old kids' don't attend statistics class.
But he won alright. It was easy like taking candy from a baby. He got out of his room with his annoying smile. A 'big brother' smile. "I gotcha again!". I didn't believe him. Would you? Even when I heard his voice chatting with the WNBC announcer, that had to be a dream. A bad dream. A bad beat.
What are the odds against such an event, two events that is, on the same day? I don't know, and it doesn't matter. I was never a religious person, but that was an act of god. From that day on, I had my own religion. I would roll the dice for hours, just to see if I can guess the numbers. I played cards, backgammon, yatzee...any game that involves random mechanism.
I asked my father, a distinguished professor, how can he explain what happened. "There is a saying, son":
" It is impossible that the improbable should never happen !!"".
This can be proved mathematically, he explained.
Thus, "that we shall not speak of" is not only probable, it is a certainty. It HAS to happen to me, you, and everybody. It's just a matter of time...
Oh, and I forgot...My brother and I never stopped trying to win another prize. We thought WNBC is easy money. Fish. Our allowance. Two years later, we left the states, without any more prizes. Now how could that be ????