Not winning is my loss
THERE was a raffle at a country fete a few years ago. I bought a ticket and – unbelievably – won a £5 bottle of Beaujolais. All right... maybe £4.99 and the label was frayed at the edges. It must have been sitting in someone’s kitchen for a year or so before it was donated to the raffle prizes.
But before or since? Nothing. I’ve won nothing ever. No medals, no awards, no glittering prizes. No lucky breaks. If there were winning streaks I was never on them.
If I was ever up for anything I didn’t get it. Someone else did. If I toss a coin and say heads, it’s always tails.
I’ve never won a penny from Premium Bonds and I’m still waiting to hear if I won a holiday for two to the Dalmatian Coast or the 300 quid spending money that might come my way if I took part in a customer survey. But why bother? I won’t win. So what must it be like to be, say, Laura and Jason Kenny (soon to be Dame and Sir no doubt) who can’t stop winning?
They are so used to winning medals that it must be disappointing if the national anthem doesn’t strike up several times a day as someone directs them towards a podium.
They have 12 gold medals and three silvers between them. More than enough to make the clock face they were talking about (which sounds naff).what on earth do you say to a couple like that – and can they even stand up if they drape all that metalwork round their necks?
If you popped round for a drink, Laura would probably use the medals as coasters.
“Hang on, let me put the one I got for the Madison under your mug.” Or: “Sorry the place is such a mess, let me clear away some of these gold medals.” Or: “I was looking for the
TV remote and I found this silver down the back of the sofa.” Maybe they use them to prise open biscuit tins or as frisbees on a summer evening in the back garden.
Their home must be like a dragon’s treasure trove. At Christmas their little son Albie won’t dare open his chocolate money in case it turns out to be the gold that dad Jason won for the Keirin.
They’re a very attractive pair, the epitome of a golden couple. But I wonder if being so absurdly successful puts people off them?
Supposing one of them loses his or her mojo, a metaphorical slow puncture?
When you win all the time it must be unsettling when you don’t.
But it must be so lovely to win something, lovely to be confident of winning rather than resigned to losing. An Olympic medal is a wonderful thing. I imagine...