Gun owner shoots, misses, shows why I never want to be in a position to be a hero

This was every gun fanatic’s fantasy come true, the chance to employ your weaponry and go from Average Joe to conquering hero of the free world.

Not hunters so much, who go to sleep dreaming of one clear shot at that elusive buck, but the ones who tie their own personal feelings of freedom to the amount of firepower they have stashed in their garage.

The chance to put an end to a heinous crime spree, to foil a plot to overturn the government (or overturn the government yourself, depending on circumstances), to rescue the damsel in distress. “Don’t worry ma’am, I’m armed.”

So when an escaped killer who was terrorizing a Philadelphia suburb entered the garage that was bristling with firearms, here was a ball sitting on a tee waiting to be slugged out of the park. The killer was surprised by the owner, who brandished a loaded pistol, took careful aim, fired multiple times and …

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere girls are kissed;

But there is no joy in Philly, our hero shot — and missed.

Oh well, at least they nabbed the perp, so all’s well that ends well. And hey, dude did better than I would have. At least he tried. I’d have been running back to the house so fast that it would have made Usain Bolt stand up and applaud.

More: Police capture fugitive Danelo Cavalcante after two week manhunt. Maps track the search.

Anyway, you have to feel for the poor fellow, you know he’s relived it in his mind a million times by now. His moment of glory was right there. It was a 2-foot putt for the Masters. A layup for the NBA title. The interviews on the talk shows were all but booked, the parade day all but scheduled. And of course an award from the city, as you walk on stage in a muscle shirt and tactical sunglasses as “Hells Bells” by AC/DC blares over the loudspeakers.

But no. Matter of fact, not only did you miss, but the bad guy grabbed one of your own rifles, so now you’ve made a bad situation much, much worse. There is such a fine line between hero and schlub.

Please Lord, just one do-over. Just roll back the clock. I won’t choke this time, I swear. It wasn’t fair, he’s so small, only 5 feet tall, not much of a target at all. Please Lord, get me a bigger criminal next time.

And we’ve all been there, haven’t we? That witty line you think of too late, that stupid comment you made on social media, that Thanksgiving you forgot to thaw the turkey.

This is why I never want to be in a position to be a hero. I don’t know how I would react, but I’m terrified it wouldn’t be good. A criminal runs across my gunsights, I feel sure my hands would start shaking wildly and I’d break into a malarial sweat. Plus, I’m always apologizing. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to aim at you. Hope you weren’t upset; here, take this gun, no hard feelings, OK?”

The only solace for our would-be hero is that some other people had a pretty bad week too. There was Aaron Rodgers who ran triumphantly into a packed stadium in a bright spotlight carrying an American flag — and leaving about five seconds later on the back of a golf cart. There were the two warring chiefs in Libya who spent so much money buying guns to fight each other that they couldn’t afford to patch the dam. There was Apple, whose wondrous new feature on its wondrous new iPhone turned out to be a power cord. And heaven knows, there was the prison guard in the tower, who was apparently knitting a scarf or something while the inmate was waltzing across the perimeter.

So I feel for you, fellow, and know that it’s not  just you. So as Aaron Rodgers would say, relax.

Tim Rowland is a Herald-Mail columnist.

This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: Gun owner who shot at, missed Cavalcante not only one having bad week