Chris Sale, spite and ‘one hard luck son of a bitch’
Speaking of relatives, I’ve long wondered if luck—good or bad—might also be hereditary. To my knowledge, scientists have yet to isolate a “luck” gene, but I’m sure that we can all probably name a few families who seem to have an inordinate amount of luck—horseshoes up the keister—as well as some fam
Luck is a fickle beast. It is seldom as simple as either having luck or not. And, certainly, the entire concept of luck can be relative.
Speaking of relatives, I’ve long wondered if luck—good or bad—might also be hereditary. To my knowledge, scientists have yet to isolate a “luck” gene, but I’m sure that we can all probably name a few families who seem to have an inordinate amount of luck—horseshoes up the keister—as well as some families who seem downright snakebitten.
Here is a story that serves as an example of the latter.
When he was alive, my grandfather on my father’s side, Ted Graziano, would refer to himself as “one hard luck son of a bitch.” Now, after an improbable run of events this week, Ted’s grandson Nate Graziano—yes, I’m switching to the third-person—also seems to be “one hard luck son of a bitch.”
This little story starts in March, on Opening Day of the 2024 Major League Baseball season, which—as luck would have it—was also Nate’s 49th birthday.
I suppose a little back story is in order to set up the piece. You see, Dear Reader, Nate doesn’t work on MLB’s Opening Day. To him, it is a sacred day, a religious holiday for baseball enthusiasts.
Now place Nate Graziazo, Ted’s grandson, at a bar. We will call this bar Chelbys Pizza. It’s a pleasant, breezy afternoon, and Nate Graziano is enjoying a cold draft beer and a cheeseburger, despite the fact that his beloved Boston Red Sox are playing the Seattle Mariners on the West Coast and the first pitch is not scheduled until 10 p.m. EST.
Nate is sitting with his friend Brian at a table in the back corner of the bar, and somehow the topic of Chris Sale, the Red Sox former ace pitcher who was traded to the Atlanta Braves in the off-season, comes up.
“I bet that son of a bitch wins the National League Cy Young this year,” says Nate, his voice wet with beer and spite, spite for the Red Sox organization who cut their payroll while continuing to charge some of the highest ticket and concession prices in the league.
“It’s highly unlikely that he’ll win the NL Cy Young,” Brian points out.
Nate then signs on to Draft Kings and sees that odds of Chris Sale winning the Cy Young Award are, as Brian noted, “highly unlikely.” In fact, the exact odds on Opening Day for Chris Sale to win the NL Cy Young Award were +5000, or 50/1.
But Nate Graziano is a spiteful man, so he places a small wager—for tax reasons, it’s best I not reveal the exact amount of the wager—on Chris Sale to win the National League Cy Young Award.
Nate views his bet as a largely symbolic middle finger to the Red Sox organization and soon forgets about it. Besides, he has never been particularly lucky when it comes gambling. As you might remember, Nate is Ted Graziano’s grandson, and Ted Graziano was “one hard luck son of a bitch.”
Fast-forward to Wednesday, Nov. 20, when the MLB announces that Chris Sale is the winner of the 2024 National League Cy Young Award.
Nate then remembers the spiteful bet he placed in March while having a beer at Chelbys Pizza with his friend Brian. Oh, Dear Reader, it now seems that Nate Graziano may have reversed a generational curse that has made the Graziano men “hard luck sons of bitches” for nearly a century.
However, Nate Graziano’s tragic flaw is that he can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut and he tells his wife, Liz Graziano, about his lucky bet and the windfall of cash that came his way as a result.
Now comes the story’s tragic denouement.
On Sunday morning, days after winning the Chris Sale bet, Nate Graziano sleeps in, dreaming the dreams of the fortunate, the lucky ones. When he finally awakes mid-morning and walks into the kitchen to have a cup of coffee, Liz is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a twisted countenance.
“What’s wrong?” Nate asks, knowing this look.
“The washing machine won’t drain,” she says. “I think it’s broken.”
Nate and his wife then get on YouTube, hoping against hope that this could be an easy fix, a small stroke of luck. They bail the water from the washer and try everything that is suggested for an at-home fix but to no avail.
It appears that the washing machine is, indeed, broken and will need to be replaced.
With the holiday season approaching and presents to purchase, Liz is distraught. “What are we going to do? We don’t have the money to buy a new washing machine right now?”
Luck is a fickle beast, and I, like my grandfather before me, am “one hard luck son of a bitch” whose winnings will just about cover the cost of a new washing machine.
You can reach Nathan Graziano at ngrazio5@yahoo.com.
[mailpoet_form id=”3″]
