One in a Million
About half way through my career as a teacher and coach, I was walking through what was called the Old Gym that also functions as an auditorium.  A few student were shooting baskets as was often the case after school.  Steve, who was a student of mine, challenged me to take a shot.  I was dressed in slacks, shirt and tie and, despite that, took the challenge.

My thought process went something like this.  If I shoot a lay-up that will impress no one and they will let me know just that.  If I shoot a 15 footer, they will figure it was luck and make me shoot another. but if I took a shot from the corner of the half court (about 50 feet) I wouldn't be expected to hit it and if I even came close, it would be a victory. So, that was my choice. You have to hedge your bets.

I set my feet at shoulder width apart, Got my elbow under the ball, remembered to finish with a good follow through, and heaved the ball as hard as I could toward what appeared to be a backboard the size of a textbook and cast my fate to the wind.  I wished to touch iron but would be satisfied with touching anything before the floor.  The ball traveled in an amazing arc, for what seemed to be about 5 minutes and dropped through, touching nothing but net, about the only way one can hit a shot from 50 feet.  I was in shock.  I don't hit those often.

There was, for an extended second, an amazing silence and then uproar with the kids falling down laughing.  They rushed over with high fives and congratulations and of course offered for me to do it again.  I declined and stated that I had already proven what I could do and I hustled out of the gym as fast as my feet could carry me.  Had I missed that shot, which I truly thought would happen, it would have been lost to all memories, but I didn't and those kids, and I, would remember the successful one.  That is the way my student were.  Great bunch of kids.  I really had a great job.