THE WRONG PERSON DID IT (Biographical)

A problem with old age is that sometimes you think of the slights of life (though I try not to).  For example when I was probably 16, I entered a Junior NRA freestyle target shooting contest.  There were two guys I knew who were better than me so I thought I had a good chance to take third place.  The best shot, who shot better than me while standing and I at prone, decided he would really lock it up and shoot kneeling,   I couldn't believe it.  At any rate he wasn't used to doing it and blew it.  The second guy better than me had a case of nerves and blew it.  I shot my normal score and, through luck, won! Imagine my surprise and delight.  But the officials decided they would not award the usual prize because, they said, not that many people entered.  I complained and they finally gave me a large emblem (but no certificate saying I had won) that I kept for many years.  I don't know what finally happened to it.  I believe that it may have been the first time I was introduced to the concept of "sorry the wrong person did it,  no offense"

I'll do one more.  The athletic club my father belonged to had an intramural basketball league (maybe still does) that I played in.  I was OK as a basketball player but hardly z star.  As It turned out in my last year (maybe  age 17) we came into the last game with me about 10 total points scored behind the leader.  The leader was a much better player than me so this was a surprise.  Since I had locked up second place, I decided not to play the last game.  My father said, however, that I should play because "you never know."  So I went and it turned out that the scoring leader couldn't play because he had to go to Juvenile Court for stealing a bicycle.  And his father was a vice-president at a major company.  He didn't need to steal bicycles.  As it turned out, I shot about my usual score and edged out the previous leader for the total scoring championship, the major prize. Now my teammates and the best player went to the same parochial high school although they were on different teams.  As we went down the steps to the shower, one of my fellow players said, "Of course, your know you are the cheese champ."  I was surprised an hurt because I had played with these guys for two years. Although they were  technically right, I thought  I deserved to  bask in the glory of winning at least for a little while.  But the wrong person did it.


Now the rational feeling I've decided should be that most people don't even get the chance to be the wrong person who did it.  But sometimes it is hard to keep the mind rational.