I don’t have particularly good luck, but then I don’t have particularly bad luck either; the die rolls whichever way it rolls, and that’s that. Not everyone lands this close to the middle of the road:
Let’s say I’m as lucky as a fat duck in a French bistro. Nope, too obscure. I’m not lucky. Let’s just go flat and factual on it.
But I’ve learned from it. I can’t conquer my natural superstition. I believe in not putting hats on the bed, and throwing salt over the left shoulder, and umbrellas remaining closed inside the house. I believe in touching wood, saying “jinx,” and touching a dwarf for luck. I believe in the superiority of odd numbers, certain colors, and wearing a particular pair of socks on game day.
My biggest one, though, is not mentioning it when something good happens.
I was listening to a baseball game when I hit that link, and baseball is utterly riven with superstition. The only one I’ve ever honored myself, though, is the one that says you don’t mention the no-hitter until the twenty-seventh out. The truly expert play-by-play guys know how to convey the situation without actually saying those dreadful words. For example:
Tampa Bay Rays broadcaster Dewayne Staats refrained from using the phrase during the entirety of Matt Garza’s no-no on July 26 .
“I framed it in every way possible without actually saying it,” he told the St. Petersburg Times. “Fans start to catch on that something is happening. At one point, I said, ‘Garza has faced the minimum and has allowed only one baserunner and that came on a walk.’ So I’m essentially saying it without saying it.”
A guy who can do that deserves dinner at a French bistro.