Friday, January 29, 2010

Adventures in Bowling

About a month ago, I received a text from my man asking if I'd like to join a bowling league. Now I must admit to first thinking he must have accidentally sent it to me instead of someone who could actually knock down a few pins in real life and not just on the Wii. However, he persisted and it quickly became apparent that he truly did mean for me to join him on this adventure.

He went straight to the point he felt would grab my attention and informed me that, upon completion of 15 weeks in the league, I would receive my own bowling shoes, bag and ball. Now I'm not a big bowling fan but I am a collector of accessories - whether they'll ever be put to use or not - so I was up to the challenge.

I did, however, do a bit o' negotiating first (what girl accepts the first offer, right?) and asked for a pink ball, sparkly shoes and a '50s style bedazzled bowling shirt - preferable in pink and black. He seemed to agree at the time but I will have you know last night was the first night of ye ol' bowling league and none of these items have arrived yet.

We arrived last evening a bit before the meeting (yes, there was actually a MEETING before you could begin bowling) and greeted Dave's friend from work, we'll call him BB, and his wife, CC. BB is actually a bowler. Like, a real bowler. One who has form. And can actually pick up a spare if need be. He is also the guy who severely hurt his ankle a couple of weeks ago, which precipitated Dave working 60 hours in one week (not that I really minded as Momma needs a new pair of shoes). BB had apparently been practicing his bowling walk/windup/whatever you call it in the hallway of his home all week and didn't experience a lick of problem.

We were stoked.

Then the practice rounds/frames/whatever you call them began. And I was taking over the world one gutter ball at a time, y'all. I was nothing if not consistent. Well, Bob's turn came around and he threw a beautiful strike (that one I'm sure of) and immediately hit the ground in pain. 

Not good.

Our leader was down. And he's still down for the count actually. He's now going to go to the doctor. Novel idea, eh? Seriously - I do not get why healthcare professionals won't seek help when sick or hurt. But that's another post for another time.

So Taylor joined the team for the night.

She was stoked.

I asked if we could now have bumpers since we were bowling with a child. They laughed. Apparently they thought I was kidding. Their mistake.

Then the real game began. Here's where I figured that, given my performance in the warm-up round, some goals really needed to be set. So I set a very specific goal for the night - to hit a pin before I left. I kid you not that, while approaching the lane for the first time, I asked the Lord to just let me hit some pins. 

And, y'all, I did.

He showed up BIG TIME. He guided my ball to a strike!

No one could believe it. Dave and BB were standing with their mouths hanging open. It was hilarious.

Then I heard one of the guys on the lane next to us whisper to his buddy, "She must be their wringer."

I kid you not. Could. Not. Make. That. Up.

The magic lasted for all of four frames before I apparently got too cocky and the good Lord sent a gutter ball my way to bring me back to reality. So I started praying upon approach again. And continued to every single time it was my turn for the rest of the night.

About this time my man looked at me and said, "Have you ever owned your own bowling ball before?"

It was like he didn't know me at all. Didn't even know what to say.

As the game came to a close, I realized that - much to my surprise - I was in the lead. As in first place, y'all. And, as the 10th frame came to a close, it was obvious a miracle had occurred on the Brazos. 

I had a triple digit score - 101 to be exact. I beat my man, CC and Taylor. I also - get this - beat every person on the lane next to us.
I did not think it was legal that an entire team could be worse than me. But apparently it is.

And then the strangest thing happened. They said it was time for the second game. This was where I began to think a question should be posed as too just how many games I was expected to play.

The answer was three.

Three games every Thursday night for 15 weeks.


I'll have you know I broke 80 during the second game and I broke 70 during the last time.

Clearly I had given that first game everything I had. Everything. I. Had. People.

I mean, seriously, every time I turned around it was my turn AGAIN.

The good news is that each of the adults won one game each. And Taylor won the kid's league. Or would have if there had been one.

So there you have it. My first adventure in bowling. The good news is that I saw a picture - during the previously mentioned meeting no less - of the ball we could choose from at the end of this torturous affair and one of the options is pink and black.

It will match my shirt. You know, if it ever shows up.

The end.