When you have a chance to bask in a moment of glory, go for it.

Especially me.

Given my history of athletic endeavors, memorable moments just don’t happen — on the positive side, anyway.

We’re talking about a guy who played for a Little League team that lost games by scores of 56-0, 42-0 and 40-4. (We were so proud of those four runs.)

We’re talking about a guy who was once offered $10 by the opposing team’s best hitter if I would pitch against his team in our competitive slow-pitch softball league.

I had my pride. I held out for 20 bucks.

We’re talking about a guy whose flag football team once lost a game by the score of 119-0 — and we didn’t even play the second half.

That’s me.

So here I am, a longtime member of the Hardwood Cafe Mixed League on Thursday nights at Family Bowlaway. Throughout the years, my teams have never posted a winning record, let alone been near the top of the standings.

So far, so good this year. We’re actually in first place — for now, at least.

With me bowling in the anchor position.

That’s right, me, with my somewhat respectable 170 average, bowling in the anchor spot in a league that includes stellar Butler County bowlers like Jim Zarnick, Bill Shever, Lou Reges, Mike Coyle and Jim Bowser.

All of those guys and others in this league have averages that dwarf mine. Yet here I am in the anchor position.

How did that happen?

Anyway, we’re bowling against the second-place team in the third game. We’re looking for a sweep, having won the first two games of the night by narrow scores.

My team is down by eight pins in the 10th frame of the third game. Both teams are done bowling for the night except for myself and the opposing anchor bowler.

He rolls first and leaves a split. What a break for me! Only two weeks earlier, I cost my team a game when I left the 10-pin standing in the 10th frame of a 3-pin loss.

A chance for redemption! Just get a spare and we win.

No. Can’t do that. I roll a split. The 4-6 split at that.

I could hear the moans behind me. Even after my opponent missed his split, defeat was inevitable for us.

I rolled my second ball toward the left corner. Regardless of the odds, you still gotta go for it. The ball barely nicked the 4-pin. It toppled over, bounced once and came to rest against the 6-pin — just enough to topple it over as well. I follow with a strike and we win.

Unbelievable. I could try to pick up that spare 999,999 more times and it would never happen. We got our sweep, we’re still in first place and I enjoyed my moment of glory among shouts and high-fives.

But no one needs to tell me such moments don’t last. 56-0 doesn’t seem all that long ago.

John Enrietto is sports editor of the Butler Eagle