82 Schools Win the Lottery, Wizards-Style

As the raffle wound down, the only thing at the forefront of Johnson's mind was watching Arenas's hand pluck the final few names.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]

"If your school hasn't been picked," the announcer urged, "stand up and make some noise!" Johnson started to shake her head, but rallied, and as Arenas's fingers fished for the final school, she yelled, one last time: "THIR! TY! SIX!"

"One hundred eighteen," read the announcer. "E.L. Haynes Public Charter School."

Johnson felt defeated. Simon had not been called. Johnson's silver hoop earrings stopped bouncing jubilantly against her neck. The five fourth- and fifth-graders next to her sat silently in their seats.

Arenas, though, wouldn't let the afternoon end. A mischievous glint crossed his face. For every school that hadn't yet left the building, he declared unexpectedly, he would give a $1,000 consolation prize. Johnson was stunned.

"WE GET A THOUSAND DOLLARS!" hollered a boy to Johnson's left. "WE GET A THOUSAND DOLLARS! WE GET A THOUSAND DOLLARS!" He was jumping up and down, clapping on Johnson's arm. The girl to her right shrieked.

Johnson exhaled as the reality of a whopping $1,000 sunk in: "We'll take it."

She looked elated. Arenas looked satisfied. His unexpected largesse had just cost him $62,000, and he left the Verizon Center the way he came in, giving high-fives and handshakes to each of the kids who lined his path.