Naturally, I zeroed in on the basketball toss booth — three shots for a dollar. But the game was rigged. There was a low-hanging net that permitted only line-drive shots. The rim was slightly smaller than normal, much tighter, and the front lip was higher than the back. Also, the backboard was slanted backwards, and the ball was oversized and over-inflated. If the ball so much as touched the rim, it would bounce awry.

It took me two bucks to make adjustments and find the range.

The first time I nailed 3-for-3, I won a 4-foot high stuffed teddy bear. In quick succession, I also won a huge stuffed penguin and a somewhat scary-looking stuffed owl — all of which I presented to whatever kiddies happened to be in the vicinity.

All right! I had it down! There was no way that Susan wouldn't be totally impressed.

The next night, I confidently steered her over to the basketball toss, said, "Watch this" and proceeded to miss shot after shot. After spending $20, I had won two tiny plastic dinosaurs!

What the hell was that all about?

Anyway, several months later, Susan and I were married — and we stayed married for a long time, even though it turned out that we really didn't like each other. One reason why "basketball marriages" last longer than they should is road trips!

While our divorce proceedings were underway, I happened to flash back on that date at the amusement park. And it suddenly occurred to me that I had failed to recognize an obvious warning. Twenty dollars worth of misses, frustrations, and embarrassment ... How could I have missed the message?

The ball never lies.