A bunch of Beers and Three Huge Balls

Tonight marks the culmination of my inaugural season of bowling. As the walk-on I feel I did an adequate job pulling my weight as they say. It’s true my average started out at a dismal 96, however my 154 tonight I feel more than makes up for my shortfalls. And so, as I sit with my last beer watching the Bills turn the ball over yet again, I shall reflect upon my first season of what some may consider the greatest game of all.
It’s true bowling is not considered the most athletic game. A quick ride up the deuce and a short glance into Lanes and Games on a Monday will all but drive this point home. To most such a place would appear to be quite sad, possibly even pathetic at times. To me however, Lanes and Games might possibly be the most amazing place on earth. And so let me take you on a virtual tour of this great haven of middle-aged virginity through the eyes of none other than your’s truly.
First you enter the ally through a small porch-type entry-way with doors on both sides, complete with faded orange, fiberglass paneling, circa 1974. This area is one of those rare places where Massachusetts residents lay down a rebellious and un-sounding “fuck you” to the state legislature and freely rip heat rods. When you enter the actual complex you are right away slapped in the face by the thunderous clap of balls smashing 10 pins. An overall aroma of sweat, pizza, and shoe disinfectant fills the air. To me this brings back fleeting memories of Off Road games and Bubble Boy Hockey tournaments. You hang a quick right and work your way up the Brady Bunch-esque staircase to the second floor, where the real gamers play. When you reach the top of those stairs right away realize why you came. You walk by the counter giving a quick “what’s happening “ to the fella’s. Two grown men that are so proud of their bowling prowess that you’d think they cured cancer. It’s a fact that arrogance runs rampant in this place. These men wear their averages on their sleeves like crowns. They are good bowlers, and they know it. They may have no hair, wives, lives, money, or chance of pulling tail, but they carry a 250 average. After grabbing a quick brewskie, you make your way to your lane and strap on your shoes. You begin your warm-up as you try to watch the pre-game of the Monday night football game on a small TV that probably didn’t have a decent picture when it was brand new (in 1984). To your left and right you admire the shag-carpet mural consisting of a bowling ball knocking over pins. How original. When the game actually begins time seems to fly by. You bowl frame after frame. A strike here, an open frame 7 there, a knocked down 6-7 split there. You inevitably find that one kid on the opposing team that takes this game way too seriously. You share this info with your team and enjoy a few laughs, and a few beers, and some good frames and bad. Then eventually, and way too soon, you roll that last ball down the lane hoping to make a mark. Your score, if its good, awesome. If its not good, still awesome. That is the beauty of this game, the old saying actually holds true here, “it’s all about having fun”. Winning or losing doesn’t really matter, however if we hadn’t won, and we didn’t somehow come in first in the league and win a bunch of money, then this blog would probably not have been written. But we did win bitches…………..we did win.