I mentioned in my previous post that my next post would be about cryptography, buy my encryption issue has presented me with some unforseen difficulties, so I am going to post about my bowling again.

Gus came down a couple of weekends ago, and we went bowling at Yukon AMF Lanes, which is not my home house. I had been in a spare shooting slump, but the lane conditions were unfamiliar, so I found myself shooting a lot of spares. I gradually started finding a shot, although it was one I wasn't too fond of. That is okay, because that kind of thing makes me a better bowler. I beat him the first two games, as I should considering the amount I bowl verses the amount he bowls. Even though I won the first two games, my scores were a far cry from the 204 I am averaging at Norman AMF Lanes in my league. My back was killing me, but I wanted to shoot at least 200 before we left. So, the third game, I think Gus has four strikes in a row ("four in row" to the knowledgeable bowler). I think I am beat and my ego is severely bruised. Later in the game, I matched him with my own four in a row. I get into the tenth frame finishing last (Gus and I bowl TV format when we bowl meaning he threw his ninth and tenth frames and I was left with the tenth). I thought I had to double to win as I hadn't been paying close attention to the score. I throw a great shot the first shot in the tenth, and I am rewarded with one of a number of strikes the bowling gods still owe me. Second shot in the tenth is a carbon copy of the first, except this time the bowling gods screwed me over once again in the familiar form of a ringing 10. Disappointed and unwilling to admit defeat, I look up at the telescore, or as Gus and I used to like to bastardize the term in our youth, the "Tell-us-the-score", and I realize I just need to convert the ten pin to win. While I had been in a spare shooting slump, I had been shooting ten pins particularly well after slumping on them earlier in the year. Now here is where I have to back up a bit. Right after Gus and I got our pair of lanes, some weird extended family of just adults got put on the pair next to us. Gus and I were on 9 and 10, so we cringed when we heard the desk lady announce, "Seven and eight needs assistance putting in names". We figured they were non-bowlers. It turned out they were former bowlers and were really considerate people. Unfortunately, sometimes my bowling psyche is delicate, and one of the grandmas didn't give me the two lane courtesy I so sorely need while shooting the deciding ten pin. Yeah, I missed it and we tied at 202. However, our little outing proved therapeutic to my bowling...

Fast forward to Wednesday (my league night) sometime shortly after noon. Now, Andy has been on a tear, completely pwning me on the lanes. He had taken the front ten for a 289 a few weeks earlier. We are at the end of the league season, and my hour and 35 minute round trip commute typically saps my motivation at this point in the year, so Andy and I usually exchange sh*t talking emails to help with motivation. He hadn't sent me one yet, so I sent him one proclaiming his hot streak was over and I would sweep him tonight. Author's note: I am completely aware of the run-on sentences that litter my blog posts, but I want my blog to be conversational, so I write like I speak, and I speak in run-ons. Sure enough, I threw good shots for most of the night, swept him like I said, and shot 657. That is a 219 average for those of you that are deficient in dividing numbers by 3. When I say I swept Andy, that means I beat him all three games and obviously series. We bet a dollar on each game and one for series, but typical Andy, he only has three to pay me.

So, the next week, Andy sends me an email on Wednesday making some reference to Apollo Creed. At league, we are bowling on 19 and 20. During practice, Andy and I notice right away that 20 is way oily than normal, and 19 is slightly drier than the typical house shot. Although I know this means scoring will be difficult, I know that it favors my team because my team had more talent. In practice, I am extremely lined in on 19, but I also start experiencing an excruciating pain in my left foot of fury, but I manage not to bitch about it all night. About the 7th frame I started noticing the guys on the other team finally realizing that the lanes were different. Lane 20 is so screwed up, that it was screwing up the shots I made on 19. I ended up doubling in the tenth for a 179, while Andy punched out for a 184. Crapola...

The second game, I start out with a brooklyn on 20, and then I strike again on 19. On 19, I threw completely perfect shots and thought I had Andy straight pwned and I was finishing on my good lane. I couldn't strike on 20 again for the rest of the game. In the tenth frame, I threw a terrible shot and left the 3-6-10. I threw an equally bad shot at the spare and took the 3 off the the 3-6-10. I shot 192 with an open in the tenth, and Andy won again. Double crapola...

The third game starts, and for seven frames, I can't throw a decent shot to save my life, but I am making most of my spares. Seven frames without a strike is pretty much unheard of for me. At this point, Andy can shut me out by ten pins. So I order a beer, and threw the last five strikes, forcing Andy to double in the tenth to win. He doesn't even throw the first one. Furthermore, he misses the spare, which means I won series and we break even. A small victory...

Andy's co-worker buddy, Mark, started bowling with us this year. I would put his last name, but that is asking a lot. I just know it is something German that starts with an "L", so let's just call him Mark Laufenbrauershwhillerbocker. Anyway, I would bet my left teste he is the only PhD holder in our league, although he does IT work now. He has to be, by far, the happiest, most positive IT guy I have ever met. He keeps threatening to start blogging, but I am sure he is too busy with whatever terrible dark secret he has. There is has to be an explanation for a happy, pleasant IT guy, and I don't think it can be pretty. :)

I guess the point of this post is that I am doing okay against Andy since he landed on planet earth the last few weeks. The last week is position round, and Andy can bet his sweet a$$ that the last week will have me as pitcher and him as catcher.