Expect nothing and you won’t be disappointed

A Different View with Dave O’Connell

The last thing I ever won was a raffle for a cowboy hat and plastic rifle in the old Convent Primary School in Oughterard.

On the basis that we went to what was then the brand-new St Cummin’s Boys School around 1971 – and this old Convent classroom predated that – it means I haven’t had a win of any significance in 45 years.

And even then my lasting memory of the rifle is that my brother broke it on me – literally on me, as in, across my back.

Even if black cowboy hats with white saddle stitching ever did become a fashion item, there’s no doubt that my head has swelled to an extent that it wouldn’t keep the rain off my bald patch.

In fairness, I’ve won the odd fiver on a Lotto ticket and an occasional spot prize at a social along the way – although even then, by the time my ticket has come up, the array of prizes are usually down to cheap sherry and dubious garden implements.

So on reflection, I wouldn’t say I’ve been overly bothered by Lady Luck.

I’ve never had a near-miss on the Lotto; never won a holiday or a new car in any of the many big GAA club draws I’ve been cajoled into buying tickets for, and me buying scratch cards only increases the odds on winning for everyone else.

Marriage precludes us from entering all of those competitions on RTE where they’re giving away thousands in cash, cars and holidays of a lifetime.

They should actually lift that ban because it wouldn’t cost them a penny – if anything it would add to the coffers given the cost of those premium calls to enter.

And still, in a triumph for eternal optimism over reality, I go on thinking that the law of averages means my day must come at some stage, all the while knowing that’s never going to happen.

Every time there’s a big Lotto jackpot – like most other workplaces – there’s a collection for a euro or two to increase our collective chances.

You’re more than happy to trouser up for that for two reasons – firstly it would be nice to win a decent sum of money, but secondly would you really want to be the only one left in the office when the rest of them are sitting on a beach in Cancun?

And yet part of me knows that by merely being part of this loosely-established syndicate, I’ve probably cost the rest of them their chance of a small fortune; they’d be better off taking their chances and asking Jonah to join.

The newsroom of the Clonmel Nationalist in Tipperary, on the other hand, has won the Lotto jackpot – not once but twice.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.