Mid-B and the bowling of yesterday

Bring it on SoCal Syndicaters, the SLC Crew is growing strong! Last night the regular folks were joined by Middlebrow of Middlebrow fame and now formally known as Picky to all those in the syndicate. After a self-admited nervous gutterball, Picky rolled a deft set, rolling 135 for the first game and a graceful 148 for the second. I yanked out a chicken in the tenth frame of the second game and bowled a 151. Snowza. I'll let Picky elaborate.

When is the inter-West bowl off?

Bowlers

Bowlers
Originally uploaded by Theorris.

While we were bolwing last night, I was suddenly struck by a photography project: catch the reaction people display after they turn around from throwing the ball. It would be a tough project in that people would be insecure at first and play to the camera. I would need to norm them to it over several sessions like they norm animals to blinds when doing wilderness photography. Perhaps I would need to set up a blind in the bowling alley: a suitably disguised pro-shop thing or something.

Anyway I am quite amused by reactions that some folks display. There are the insecure "I don't know what I am doing looks" to the insecure "I am a cocky son-of-a-bitch" looks. Most of it, however, involves insecurity.

For myself, I tend to be quite the expressive bowler and yell and swear (when no small children are present.)

Merch!

In a comment below the big E. mentioned that it would be great if someone made '"I hate bowling" T-shirts make their way into existence. Or "I fail at bowling" or something like that. Or "Bowling grinds my soul right on down and that is why I love it so."' Well what do you know!

I just need 6 other guys with problematic bodily functions and be 3.5 feet shorter and I'll have quite a bowling squad

I was coming down with a cold on Tuesday night and because of that and pointless worrying about a subject not worth mentioning here, I got a sum total of about an hour's sleep. Now even an hour's worth of sleep can be quite refreshing, but this sleep was cat-nappish and as I am not a cat, it did me little good. All yesterday, therefore, I was in that I've got a cold and I haven't slept daze; everything seemed set on edge. I was happy to get back from the College and crash for a few hours. Ah to sleep. Perchance to dream of…

"Jen and Dustin and I are thinking of going bowling." It was housemate who is not in Jamaica. I was on the downstairs crashed in front of the TV watching poker (where the world tournament of bowling, I ask you? Surely it is far more interesting than watching some nerd winning a million bucks?)

"Sure," I said in the still not enough sleep stupor. It took me only a second to debate whether I should go.

So we went to the usual Sue Rich and we all rolled some pretty fine games; well all except housemate JC who had a cut on his thumb that until he sucked it up and decided to play through the pain and then managed to pull out consecutive strikes and some killer 9th/10th frame finales.

June Bug's score was equally respectable. She squared up and took 5 or six strikes in toto. She has developed a wicked curve that often sneaks in at the last second and hits the head pin and then swoops through the back 9 in angry rhino fashion.

My scores were better than my usual of late, but nothing to jump up and sing happy hallelujah for. Let's just say that I averaged over 120 and had my strongest game with a 138. That sucks in comparison to what I was bowling earlier this year, but good for the equipment (a ball named Roy) that looked to be older than me. I was noticeably sleepy in that way that is nearly painful, but it gave me the certain focus I have been lacking of late on some throws.

The surprise for the night was Dustin who proclaimed openly and loudly "I hate bowling" ever time he stood up and bowled strike after strike. (It was a good fake and worked on getting his focus down.) Dustin has one of those wicked across the lane spare shots that was dead on as well. He sagged a little bit in the middle when he stopped his pre-roll incantation, so he took it up again and it worked and he rolled several more strikes.

Party and non-party bowling: two for the price of 2

Update: said housemate uploads some pictures to his blogathing.

1) Sunday night one of my housemates had a "I'm sick of this job so I quit" party thrown by the very company his is quitting. It was quite nice of them to honor him in such a way even though he is leaving them, but, hey, he's a pretty cool guy and they know that they are losing a good worker. The important part of the this "I hate you even though you love me party" was that after a few tasty eats at said company we hot-footed it to Olympus Hills Bowling Alley (the lanes are to the far, far right of the picture in the big square building--not the Dan's) for four reserved lanes. It was late by the time we got there and due to that, the time change, and the previous night's Halloween events Senor Orris was extremely tired and bowled like crap. We're talking, once again, under 100 crap. I just couldn't feel it and sat alone, head in my hands, trying to stay awake. I couldn't really abandon the party, however, as it was nice of them to have it and I did not wish to disappoint said housemate.

Housemate, on the other hand, bowled an extraordinary set of games: 185/169. He claimed later that he was nervous with all his fun-loving ex-coworkers around. I wish nervousness increased my abilities like it does his.

2) Last night, however, out-of-work Housemate rolled crap. I, however, felt a bit better but still didn't do that great, but certainly better than Sunday. I bitched about the ball I was using (it kept snagging my thumb) so I switched and did marginally better. In the second game, Housemate picked up a bit and rolled a turkey. This improvement, however, was soon sunk by a donught/3 pin pickup combo that sent House into an emotional tailspin.

My game never improved and never got worse. Things could be worse. Oh yeah.

The highlight the night was the guy in the lane next to use who managed to bowl quite consistently with good scores while chatting with his cell phone held to his ear.

Asshole.