Bowling Bummer


I went bowling last night. Perhaps I should begin this rant by explaining my relationship to bowling, as well as my competitive spirit. Then I will summarize it all for you in a somewhat inconclusive manner that will leave you wondering about your own bowling drive, and, ultimately, how it connects to life overall.

I've been bowling for most of my life. My parents, recognizing that bowling was a great family activity, would occasionally take us all down to the bowling alley, tie up our toes in those delightfully distasteful shoes, and help us select the proper weight ball. One thing they never gave us, however, were the gutter bumpers. We were going to learn how to bowl properly. Fear the gutter, aim for the highest pin in the formation.

In high school I took an individual sports class, where I learned and was tested on bowling etiquette, scoring, and terminology. I already knew most of what we learned, since I'd been tallying score cards for a few years. However, I don't want to make myself sound like a big ol' bowling expert, or like I'm even a good bowler. The most I learned in the bowling class was how to approach certain shots. I throw the ball very straight down the lane. There's no fancy spin, and I'm not even particularly graceful . Frequently, I find myself lining up a perfect roll, only to have all but one pin fall down. To pick up a spare on the 7 or 10 pin in the back, you shouldn't bowl along the gutter. Try coming across from a different angle.


So, last night, with all this bowling history behind me, I want to bowl well, like I always do. I can usually expect to break 100 (I told you I wasn't very good), and on a good bowling night I break 120. My best score is 142, and that was very exciting. I'm always salivating for that next high score, I'm always out there to beat myself. Of course, it doesn't hurt to have competition on the team. It keeps me modest, mostly, and forces me to realize that even though knocking down nine pins seems quite good, it does nothing toward launching my score to the unatainable (at least for me) 300.

I had a horrible bowling night. The first score was 102, the second 82. There was some beer drinking involved, but I really can't blame that. And each time I let the ball slip off my fingers at 14 mph, I thought If I practiced, I could be better.

But in this case, I don't think it's true. I took bowling for an entire semester, and my score virtually remained in the 120s the entire time. Maybe bowling is the one thing I can't be better at. Maybe we just have to accept that we'll never be able to do everything. I have to accept that I'm never going to be a good bowler.