When I was living back East, I used to play center field for the Artistic Endeavors Baseball League. Most of the members were part of the creative community, and playing with them was a cool way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I have an especially fond memory of a surprising play that won a big game for us.
It was the bottom of the ninth and my team had a one-run lead. Our summerlong adversaries, the Equity Sluggers, were up to bat. They had a man on base but they also had two outs. Then Mister Big Shot Broadway Star stepped up to the plate. He swung twice—nothing but air. But on his third try, the tap-dancing son of a bitch slammed the ball right over my head toward a game-winning home run.
Without thinking, I took my eye off the ball and started running back toward the fence. I blindly threw my hand up in the air at a random moment and heard a thud as the ball landed right in my glove. A miracle catch. Game over. Victory!
Looking back, the million-dollar question is: Did I get lucky, or did all those years of practice put me in a position where I was able to get lucky?
I often look at my career as an agent the same way. A lot of my choices are based on skill and years of experience, but sometimes I just get lucky.
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