My last name is actually Cruise, but I used “Cruiser” for so long that it seems to me to be a part of me. It’s funny. You can’t make this up. A fan gave me that name. She said, “Mr. Cruiser, you’re my hero, because you just keep going. You don’t let anything get you down. You keep cruising along.” It was true. So “Cruiser” became my name.
I’m generous, but not to a fault. It’s like the juggler on the Ed Sullivan show. He has to drop a ball to show that it’s live, to show his act isn’t faked. I’d complain that someone cut me off, or that my car lost one of its spark plugs, but then I’d say, “Yeah, but it’s not always about winning, is it?” I got attention and sponsors because I was consistent, not because I always came in last.
Oh, I’d put on a show all right. I didn’t try to lose. At first, it was a disappointment for me, to lose the race. I wanted to win. But I found out that there was more than one way to win. People need to be reminded that sportsmanship is more important than just winning. If you play fair, if you respect your opponents and the officials, and if you graciously accept your losses, that’s more important than always winning. I was genuinely happy for the others. Someone had to lose. I didn’t mind if it was me.
Usually I was the last one to cross the finish line. Sometimes, I was the first guy to crash out. I broke an arm. I might have gotten a concussion or two. But they say the best thing to do after you get bucked off your horse is to get back on the saddle.
I’d try to fool them into thinking I would actually place, come in second, or maybe third. I’d get close. Real close sometimes. But something always happened. That’s luck. I don’t think there’s anything we should call good luck or bad luck; it’s just “luck.” Because no matter what you’re given in this life, it could be for the best. In my case, it worked out fine.
Monologues