Why does this sound like one of those "how you lost your virginity" stories?
My brother took me for my first bowling experience when I was 7 years old. Now "took me" is a very slippery term. He was forced to take me by our mom and this, of course, pissed him off since he didn't want me tagging along with his friends and, no doubt, embarassing the hell out of him.
I knew nothing of the game save its existence and that you threw the ball down the alley and knocked over the pins. I had no clue how to throw the ball or even how to tie my shoes. My brother begrudgingly tied my shoes, but told me nothing about throwing the ball.
My first throw, of course, was lackluster--it went 5 feet and promptly fell into the gutter. My subsequent throws were no better: each ended up at some point in the gutter.
His first frames, on the other hand, were spot on--a couple of spares and even a strike. His attitude towards me was spot on too: surly and condescending. His friend Ricky Dick (who had no room to make fun of people due his name) taunted me everytime I threw a gutter ball. Now I was a kid who tended to burst into tears at the first sign of frustration or unfairness, but the taunting just made me mad so I sucked it up and threw three more frames of gutter balls.
Louise, the woman behind the snack bar counter must have noticed both my frustration, anger, and complete lack of ability, and came out to give me some pointers while my brother and his friends were off doing something.
"First you put your two middle fingers in these holes, not the two end fingers." She demonstrated the technique with my own fingers, her beehived red hair wobbled in the flourescent light. "When you throw the ball, try to aim at the middle arrow in the alley. Now try it."
With my new technique I managed to bowl 5 straight strikes. I don't think I've ever seen my brother so perturbed.