Sit back, kids, while I tell you the story of my personal experience of every vote counting. While things were on a much smaller scale than today's elections, the point should still come out:
The year was 1993. At a mid-sized Jr High on Salt Lake County's east bench, student body elections were taking place. After a heated primary election, two candidates for Historian emerged. One had been elected school senator the fall before by a unanimous vote from his homeroom class. While he was a bit quirky, he was easily one of the most well-known, if not most popular, kids in the eighth grade. His opposition was a very methodical, plotting person who was considered a long shot, even on election day.
The skits were performed. The underdog was very serious. The favorite came out dressed as an old man, while "when I'm 64" played. The overall statement was that in 2043, you'd be glad he was your historian back in Jr High.
The votes were cast. They were counted. They were recounted. It was the most secure election any of the kids would vote in.
The big announcement assembly came. The evelope with the name of the new historian was opened by the outgoing historian. As the envelope was being opened, the underdog was congratulating the favorite. The auditorium was abuzz with his name. Then, it happened.
The surprise comment from the stage.
"Well, this is a surprise."
The underdog had won by three votes. Many votes had been ruled ineligible, but the rulings were consistant and accepted by the loser. He got the bigger boquet of flowers.
Now, 13 years later, the winner is a student of political science. The loser writes a political blog.
Oh, and the losing campaign slogan, which is actually better than what he won with in his Senate race?