08-031
The Joy Of Bowling
Despite
the fact I consider myself to be a serious, competitive athlete, bowling
greatness has long eluded me. Being asked to leave both a five and
ten-pin league has greatly dampened any future hopes regarding that endeavor. I
have yet to find another multiple of five.
My
crime?? Laughing too much. Laughing too often. Laughing in the hallowed halls
of a bowling alley…
Exhibit
A: My wife and I were introduced to Angus on the night we joined a ten-pin
league, and he immediately took us under his wing. Angus bowled with his
girlfriend, and needed another couple to round out their team. His girlfriend
was a lovely, even-tempered woman, with a fairly trim figure. Angus had the
general shape of an igloo wearing a hat.
We were
cautioned during our orientation that he may on occasion be seen quietly
meditating in a corner, between turns. It seemed that Angus believed himself so
strong at propelling a bowling ball, he feared blowing the pins to smithereens
if he didn’t restrain himself. Pin re-setters are not at all fond of resetting
pins from scattered smithereens.
After a
crash course in choosing a ball, we began our first match. Our opponents were
nice enough folks, with a clear level of competence on a bowling alley. Their first
bowler landed a spare.
My wife
threw her first ball, and the game was delayed but briefly, while an attendant
came out to help it down to the end with the pins. Her last two throws made the
trip without stopping, textbook displays of impeccable gutter-balls… Angus was
deep in meditation.
Angus’
girlfriend was next. No slouch, she knocked over several pins. Our team was on
the scoreboard!!
I was
next. Pointing at the pins like Babe Ruth, I ignored the fact that I was
recreating a sports moment from a completely different sport. No matter, I
didn’t end up close to the pin area anyway. Gutter-balls ran in our family, it
seemed.
By this
time, my wife and I had started to chuckle a bit. When I put a backspin on my
last ball, we were starting to howl. So was the other team. So were most of the
other teams, for that matter.
Not
Angus. Angus was still deep in meditation, his face now a bright crimson color…
By this
time, I was enjoying the camaraderie of the other teams. As Angus wound up for
his first throw, I hollered “The Thunder Rolls!!”
It was
the last big laugh of the evening. Clearly at risk of becoming scattered
smithereens myself, we were “released” from the team, and soon handing back our
rented bowling shoes.
I
didn’t improve my record on five-pin lanes. I can only hope that with plenty of
weekends spent watching TV competitions, I can ultimately pick up the skills
that will allow us to once again grace the polished lanes of a bowling alley.
A
bowling alley far from our old friend Angus…