So Is Bowling A Sport or Not? Discuss.

I’ve heard it said that bowling cannot be considered a real sport. Why? Because any activity in which beer can be drunk during play should never count as a real sport. Okay, I’ll buy that.

I haven’t heard that bowling could be considered comedy either, but when I bowled last week it was pretty funny considering there was a pratfall from yours truly and everything. Unintentional, of course. But if I’d been watching myself, I probably would’ve laughed.

Yep, I took a header when my heretofore reliable (and cute) hot pink-and-black bowling shoes were placed upon my feet in the warm bowling alley after having been left all week in the freezing garage. Condensation is more than a weather-related term. Who knew?

I was shocked when I suddenly landed in a heap on the floor after my first throw. But I was even more shocked when, after hauling myself back upright, I looked up and saw that I’d somehow managed to knock down nine of the pins. I figured on the way down I might have lost control of the ball and flung it across the next several lanes. Good thing I didn’t. It’s also a good thing it didn’t pop-up like in softball and come back down and conk me on the head while I was crumpled up on the floor of Lane 5.

I guess I didn’t know bowling could be a contact sport. (Oh wait…that’s right. We’re not calling it a “sport.”)

At any rate, the folks in the neighboring lanes who saw me take the fall were very kind and solicitous and didn’t even snicker once. Well, not in front of me, anyway. Once they ascertained that I was ambulatory, they gave me a sympathetic nod as if to say, “Better you than me, lady!” and then went back to concentrating on their own games.

After that embarrassing debacle, I realized I still had to throw my second ball. With any delay of game, my second throw is usually a gutter ball. But I surprised myself even further when, after tentatively tip-toeing up to the line, I threw the ball…and picked up the spare!

And then, of course, I slunk off back to my seat to nurse my stinging hand and smarting knee.

The only saving grace was the fact that the other members of my own bowling team missed my free fall since they were too busy drinking beer and shuffling cards for poker. I wouldn’t have heard the end of it all night long. They’d have been talking about something totally unrelated like the weather or something and then would have said, “…yeah, it’s kind of like when Jane fell on her face up there on Lane 5!” And then they would have laughed and laughed.

Or maybe they wouldn’t have. It depends on how much they believe in karma and that nasty little thing called “payback.”

Besides, our team needs to stick together since we’re in last place. (How did that happen?) And the sad thing is, we’re bowling pretty well. We’re just bowling against opponents who are bowling even better.

Personally, I haven’t had such good bowling scores as I have had these past few weeks. I mean, after taking a dive on that first frame, I would have thought my “bowling concentration” would have been affected and I might have had a bad game. Not so. I bowled 151 that first game. My average is 134 and I somehow also bowled higher than my average the next two games.

Of course, this inevitably means that I should expect a week sometime in the not-too-distant future where I can’t manage a spare or a strike to save my tuchus. This will be a relief, actually. I am normally a 115 average bowler. My cute bowling shoes couldn’t possibly have made so much of a difference that I’m bowling 19 pins above my normal average. Or…could they? You can never discount the cuteness factor in bowling.

And, that too, my friends, is why bowling cannot be considered a “sport.” In real sports, shoes and clothing (and helmets and pads, etc.) are functional. When you get to wear hot pink-and-black bowling shoes that match your hot pink-and-black bowling shirt with the cute pink panther patch on the pocket, you should automatically disqualify bowling as a sport.

Well, in my opinion, anyway. I’m sure professional bowlers would beg to differ. But then, I’ve never seen a professional bowler wearing cute hot pink-and-black bowling shoes.

Meanwhile, I’ll be bowling again on Sunday. Let’s hope there are no repeat performances on the pratfalls. From me, anyway. Oh, and I will happily consider any strikes and/or spares as a bonus.

Baby, it's Cold Outside!

So I woke up this morning and it was fall. No, not officially-according-to-the-calendar-fall – but according to my very own personal Fall-O-Meter. My fingers, toes and the tip of my nose were cold – and that’s a surefire way I know that summer is over and we can expect snow flurries to arrive any day now.

Well, perhaps I exaggerate just a tad – but I’m pessimistic when it comes to winter, so I prepare for the worst.

Hmmm…I suppose this means we should turn off the A/C at home, shouldn’t we? No sense in cooling the place while wearing footie pajamas and earmuffs around the ol’ homestead, eh?

Today was the kind of fall day that would be ideally suited to staying at home on the couch wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket sipping a cup of hot chocolate while a fire crackles merrily in the hearth. (I suppose a fire could crackle angrily, too, but that seems more like the kind of fire that is not safely contained inside a hearth.)

But, anyway…

While the scenario above might be a perfect way to spend a cold, rainy Monday I was, naturally, at work all day. And I was blowing on my cold fingers and curling my toes inside my socks to try and warm up a little. To no avail, mind you.

There must be some unofficial office rule that states employees cannot turn the heat on the day after the air conditioning has been on – so I didn’t dare touch the thermostat. But I was sorely tempted as my corduroy jacket did absolutely nothing to keep me from shivering. Perhaps I should have replaced the tank top underneath the jacket with a turtleneck, but I wasn’t that prepared for a cold, rainy fall day. Hey, I figured I was good to have the corduroy jacket and socks at the ready. It was, after all, a few short days ago that I was wearing short sleeves and flip flops.

Of course, there is something to be said for the changing of the seasons. For one, it means that I get to wear the cool new boots I purchased for a phenomenal sale price at the end of last season, but never had the chance to wear. And being bundled from head to toe is a good way to cover up those ghostly pale limbs that never seemed to tan despite many a foray to the pool this past summer.

Plus, I get to drive with the butt-warmers on now. Yay. LOVE leather seats in a car that comes equipped with butt-warmers! It makes driving around in cold, snowy Ohio a little less, well, butt-cold! Ha ha. Aren’t I funny?

So I’m doing my best to think positively about the upcoming weather changes here in Central Ohio. I'll concentrate on the holiday season fast approaching...no, wait! That causes stress. I haven't even thought about buying the first gift or card or stamp, nor have we discussed where we'll be spending various holidays this year.

Hmm...perhaps I can instead think about crisp fall evenings being cuddled up on the couch with my Vince enjoying a glass of vino and, yes, sitting in front of a crackling fire. Ahh...that's the stuff. Hopefully I can concentrate on that rather than the upcoming piles of snow outside that will have to be shoveled and the painstakingly slow commutes to work and back caused by a few little snowflakes on the ground.

Oh well. It doesn't do any good to worry about this stuff – the weather changes every year whether I want it to or not. Besides, almost every year we deal with a cold snap in September, which causes some of us to start thinking about snow...only to have hot weather return for a few more days where short sleeves and flip flops are more appropriate clothing than corduroy jackets and ear muffs.

But I still think I'm gonna haul out those turtlenecks. And the footie pajamas. And I may just turn the butt-warmers to the “on” position and leave them there permanently 'til next spring.

Yeah, I'm likin' that idea. If anyone needs me, I'll be out sitting in my car.