Bowling

Bowling is a humiliating activity for me. It’s humiliating because it’s such a dumb concept (hit the pins with the ball) that can be so difficult. My issues lie in the fact that I think I could score higher by throwing a baseball or a football at the pins than I do with my bowling ball. Yes, I own a bowling ball. I inherited it from my brother who inherited it from his wife’s grandfather. It’s name is Rich. It’s embarrassing to role up to the alley with Rich in a pleather carrying case and then bowl under 100. But to me it’s better than using the nasty old balls they provide for everyone to share.

On the flip side, I’d prefer to be unusually bad than ridiculously good at it. I have friends who actually use the hand dryer and have two differently weighted bowling balls—one for the first attempt and one for the second. They usually score somewhere around 200—this is akin to riding a unicycle across campus between classes. I don’t mind losing to these people.

I’d like to get to a point in life where I can bowl between 100 and 150 every time. Good enough to suggest that I’m slightly coordinated but not so good that I would have to include bowling in a list of pastimes.