Saturday, October 2, 2010

Bowl? Sure. It's my aim that's the problem.

Having been a better than average bowler, with averages in the 180's and low 190's, I decided to try my hand at bowling shortly after becoming totally blind.  Nearly 45 years ago and how vivid that memory is.  I went with my parents to our favorite neighborhood lanes and prepared for this test event.  I slipped on my shoes, walking back and forth from the fowl line, checking the distance between the gutters and pacing off my approach.  Finally I was ready.  Ball held tightly in front of me, tight against my stomach, I took my first stride.  Just as easy as it had always been, the ball swinging loose, back behind me and then driving forward and out into the air.  As I let it loose from my grip I listened.  Nothing!  No sound of the ball touching the boards of the lane in front of me.  And then, two lanes to my left, a mighty crash followed by yet a second smashing sound.  "Wow!" my dad whispered.  "Your ball flew across two lanes and just crashed into the automatic pin setter. 
I sat down, pulled off my shoes while my dad retrieved my ball, and I shakily put it, now sporting a huge nick, back into it's bag where it stayed for nearly ten years.  When Cathy and I began dating she talked me into once again approaching the fowl line, ball in hand.  This time I used a guide rail and the ball actually stayed on it's proper lane.  After that we would take the children bowling as a family outing.  I learned to have fun and not try competing with the sighted bowler I once was.  My best scores barely made it into the 100's and usually hovered below 90.  But we did have fun sharing happy hours together as a family. 
 
Curious Carl
 

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