I'm holding a Hoosier Lottery $1 instant scratch-off ticket in my hand, and I'll put a coin to it by the end of this column.
First let me explain why I've been holding it for more than a week and why I'm reluctant to scratch off its pristine potential.
The way I see it, most lottery players understand they'll never win a big prize. I'm talking a serious cash prize, not a free ticket or $50 or even $500.
The odds of winning a $50,000 or $500,000 prize or better are ridiculous. The odds of landing all six numbers in the Hoosier Lottery, Illinois Lottery or the Powerball game are just as crazy.
Yet, people play as religiously as they attend Sunday sermons, dishing out hard-earned cash for lottery tickets using the same exact numbers week after week, year after year.
Why? It's not about winning. It's about the hope of winning. There's a difference.
It's the hope of winning that keeps them buying tickets in spite of all logic.
It's hope that persuades them into believing THIS week is the week. It's hope that guides their hand into their pockets for their last $2. It's hope that whispers in their ear while they cough up the same tired excuses about having no money.
Deep down, most players know they'll never win a serious, life-changing prize.
Yet they play.
Why? Because it's also hope that allows them to tolerate all three of their crummy jobs, or their steep credit card debts, or their lack of life's luxuries.
To many players, each lottery ticket is a six-number, paper-printed prayer sent to the Ping-Pong ball gods. And then they watch for the winning numbers like a believer waiting for Jesus to return.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against lotteries, which date back to before Christ.
I'm also not against state lotteries, which have provided millions of dollars in the form of road repairs, supplemental school tuitions and reduced excise taxes.
Lake County alone has reaped $142 million from lottery windfalls from 1989 to 2003, while Porter County received $40.5 million.
Plus, I personally fit the demographic of the typical lottery player: a Caucasian male between the ages of 30-44 with a high school diploma and some college experience and a household income between $20,000 and $50,000.
Yet, I'm not duped into thinking I'll ever win big some day. I know better.
Instead, I'm duped into the hope of winning, which is good enough for me, and that's why I play every so often.
That said, I sometimes keep my lottery tickets unscratched or unchecked for weeks at a time. I'd rather be a potential winner than a sure loser.
Now, getting back to my scratch-off ticket, here we go. Scratch, nothing.
Scratch, nothing. Scratch, nothing.
See, I knew I should have kept this one in my desk another week.
