It was a long season for my son's baseball team with a 0-11 record. All of the players were new and prone to errors, strikeouts and poor pitching.
One Friday afternoon my son came crashing through the door and announced his team had played the best game of the year. "What did you win by?" I asked.
He replied, "Oh, we were beat 32 to 2, but it's the first game where no one made an error!"
Success comes in baby steps.
About to have a blood test, I nervously waited while the nurse tightened a tourniquet around my arm. "I understand you’re from Oklahoma," she said. "Are you a Sooners fan?"
"Absolutely!" I replied.
"Well," she continued as she raised the needle, "this may hurt a little, as I’m from Nebraska."
It was the first day of basketball practice at Wingate high school in Brooklyn, N.Y. Coach Jack Kaminer handed a ball to each player.
"Fellas," he said, "I want you to practice shooting from the spots you might expect to be in during the game."
The No. 12 sub immediately sat down at the end of the bench and began launching the ball toward the basket.
Back at my high school for the tenth reunion, I met my old coach. Walking through the gym, we came upon a plaque on which I was still listed as the record holder for the longest softball throw.
Noticing my surprise, the coach said, "That record will stand forever."
I was about to make some modest disclaimer that records exist to be broken, when he added, "We stopped holding that event years ago."