What It Feels Like to Bowl a 300 Game

The ultimate dream of every bowler is to put together a long string of strikes and have everybody in the building gather around to watch you finish in a rousing blaze of glory for a perfect 300 game.

I am sure everyone at one time or another has started a game with a strike and some wise guy would comment "Only 11 more to go", which was the sarcastic comment tossed at me as I began the 3rd game in our company bowling league with a not very classy Brooklyn strike.

This was not a moment of great confidence for me as my first 2 games were well below average and I had been playing the old game show "What's My Line" all night, which means I am a spot bowler who cannot find the right spot to aim at. This is complicated after a few beers because all the spots are moving.

Frame 2 - I over compensated, but I got lucky with a light hit resulting in a mixer strike that saw the 7 pin fall just before the pinsetter came down. My team was ecstatic because this was the first double I had all night, and I had to endure remarks like "It's about time", and "Where you been all night, chump?", and of course "Only ten more to go".

Frame 3 - I finally found the right line. Right in the pocket. The 10 pin hesitated but went down. Remarks "Hey a turkey". Response "What did you call me?".

Frame 4 - Absolutely drilled it. A crusher. No doubt. Confidence is gaining. Delusions of grandeur are dancing in my head. Got to keep from getting too excited.

Frame 5 - Right in there. Drilled it again. Now people are beginning to take notice, especially Ron from 4 lanes away who currently holds the season high game of 264. Our opposing team is already so far behind that they have given up, so even they are cheering me on. I find this most unusual since some of them would only cheer me if I tripped over the foul line. People are starting to gather around. The spotlight is on, and I feel like a hundred eyes are piercing me like needles. I have an itch and I dare not scratch it. Got to act cool and suave. I am too nervous to sit down, so instead I pace the floor, strutting like a peacock.

Frame 6 - As I stand on the approach, you could hear a pin drop (bad pun). As I began my approach I forgot to stop strutting so my legs got wobbly, I missed my spot. The ball ends up smack on the nose leaving the dreaded 4-6 split, but wait, the pins are still wobbling, and with the help of background screaming and stomping, they finally fall, and so do I.

This time I sat down and could not help but hear the remarks "With a break like that, he BETTER get a 300". My silent reaction - "What 300 game, it never crossed my mind". Another remark "Nobody talk to him, you might jinx him or get him nervous". Reaction - "Who's nervous? Anybody got a cigarette? Wait a minute, I don't even smoke." The silent treatment is driving me crazy. Confidence is suddenly all gone because I missed my spot. Pressure is unbearable because I do not want to disappoint everyone watching. Ron is even more nervous than I am, I can imagine him silently screaming "Please don't break 264" as he drinks his cigarette and smokes his beer, teeth clenched, eyes bugged out, and hairs standing up (all 13 of them).

Frame 7 - Missed my spot again even more to the left, so instead of hitting the nose, it crosses over to the Brooklyn side for an ugly strike, but a strike nevertheless, and the crowd absolutely erupts. They do not care what kind of strike it was as long as it was a strike. My kind of people. Ron is sweating bullets.

Frame 8 - Had to compensate for the last awful shot, but oh oh, I think I over compensate, missing the spot to the right. It looks like I gave it too much room to the right, it is gonna have to hook a lot to get back to the head pin, the background noise is reaching a crescendo as the ball nears the pins. The hook did not happen, the ball misses the head pin, leaving a horrible washout 1-2-4-10. Crowd reaction "awwwwwww", "he choked". Then I missed the spare. Ron, sweating profusely, is busily scribbling to see if his 264 is still in danger.

Frame 9 - Emotion is drained, composure is gone, missed the headpin again, missed the spare again. Spectators are leaving in droves while Ron is doing cartwheels in the background. Some of my better friends stand there staring at me with hands on hips, and then slowly shake their heads, then turn and walk away.

Frame 10 - Finished with a spare. Score is not worth mentioning. I find some consolation
in realizing I would have been ready for a straight jacket if the string of strikes had gone any longer, Ron too. Can you imagine if I happened to get 11 and then tossed a gutter ball?

In conclusion all I can say is....bowling sucks, bring on the golf season.