Short & Sweet

I was told since I had to keep it short because of the lack of people.

So here it goes.

Jail
Jiggly wiggilies
On the nipple
Side bets every game
What is a lucky penny
Watch out that's more jail bait
Boy do I love to sing SUMMERTIME
I think they put turkey lard out there
I am not scared of that ten pin anymore
Red Line sweeps all three and thanks Lady Tortoise for the luck.

From Zero to Hero

I'm not a natural born leader.

Since my birth my father has tried to do otherwise though. After my brother failed my father (in my father's eyes only), he turned to me in my youth to extract the same qualities that constitutes a leader of men. I was taught how to create, build, and care for all the plants, trees, and animals on our large ranch. Bu he also taught me how to hunt, trap, and ultimately, kill. I excelled, to his happiness, at many things, but I excelled at two things, Husbandry (which is animal care, not what most of you guys are doing now) and Marksmanship. I excelled in all things guns for a while in my young life, till I found that I was expected to kill animals for fun with them, like a lot of men on my father's side did. At any rate, through all the wilderness survival, gun work, and animal care my father stressed one thing.

Focus.

I am starting to wonder if I have actually focused throughly through out a full set of frames. I know cleaning up a tenth frame with a turkey is not foreign to me, but last night in the last game I found my zone. It was in between the Tom Collins and the training from my father.

I focused last night, simple as that. But other factors were influential as well. Some of these are comical, some are serious. I'll let you make up your own mind which are which.

First off, The Tortoise had already done it. The veil of mystery had been pierced, the path had been blazed. Even if The Tortoise didn't show us exactly how it was done, he at least showed us that it COULD be done. That is enough for me most of the time. Like I said before, I am not much of a leader, but I'm one hell of a follower.

Secondly, There were no beautiful women around. That's a weak one for me. Nothing shatters my focus more, hell my thought process, than connecting eyes with a lovely young woman. (and I stress woman, at least I hope in all cases) No matter the reaction, good or bad, that connection for that split second makes me think of other things besides bowling. Which inevitably messes with my tempo and social rhythm. Even if I refrain from looking, I disrupt my Zen by having to spend energy and focus trying NOT to look.

I've been working on this lately, this weakness. I've considered improving my focus, meditating on either keeping distractions like beautiful women outside my attention, or possibly even heroically overcoming the petty problem, to look beautiful women in they eyes, and to come away with some secret knowledge, some inner confidence that would allow me to throw with unparalleled skill and ability.

I went with a third option though. I raised my standards. Simple really, works too. Enough said.The third reason was that I was in a very comfortable atmosphere. The gang was jovial, the liquor was plentiful, life was good. We were right back on those two infamous lanes, lanes three and four, which The Tortoise had so supernaturally threw his first closed game a week prior. So comfortable was I that I did not realize what was going on till about the fifth or sixth frame, and I honestly didn't start sweating till the about the eighth frame.

The Closed 242 was certainly a highlight in my bowling non-profit career. It was a hell of a lot of fun too. I'm just glad to get my first money game win.

I wonder what's next in store.

The Night That Was

My priority is drinking, so I don't like to talk much about bowling. But it's been a little difficult to avoid the topic lately.

I have had good streaks before, but none like the one I had last night. It was incredible. To quote the summary put out by UABA when I was named Money game winner of the night: 3 Games, 629 pins 21 strikes, with two games of 9 strikes and a new career high of 249 followed by a 264.I wish I could explain why a bowler catches fire at the lanes. You just do. You see the pins better. It's hard to put into words because, obviously, your eyesight doesn't suddenly get better. Maybe something shifts in your brain that allows you -- for some limited time -- to be hyper-focused. I don't know. All I know is that my eyes seem to pick the target up right before it left my hand.

And here's Part II of being on a good streak: When your turn reaches you, you know exactly what to do with it. I always have a plan for every ball, which depends on how much I’ve had to drink, what the game situation is, etc. So that's the same whether you're on a good streak or a bad one. But when you're going good, you execute your plan almost every time. You get the ball you're looking for. You throw it just the way you want. And of course, success breeds confidence. So when you're going good, you relax. You don't press. You don't go trying to throw it through the back of the wall when all you need is to put it in the right spot. You go up to the lane truly believing that no pin can stay on its feet. I know, too, that part of any really great streak has some element of luck. I got a lot of Brooklyn’s. They weren't setting the pins down with one missing and the Bowling Gods weren't striking me down either. I had the opportunities to come through and they keep falling. It helped that Lunch Money bought me a Capt & Coke. I love that drink. It's the drink of my childhood. Some people have asked if I had any superstitions about how to keep the streak going -- like not changing my socks or taking advice from a particular coach and since I heavily believe in superstitions, I worried when my drink ran out, I tried to toe tap a little bit more, I kept checking out the same girls, I touched the blower fan in the same place and I touched myself in the same place. So, I turned into an OCD freak. We're up against the Mets tonight and looking to have another exciting win like yesterdays. I'm still feeling invincible at my desk, although a touch hung-over. I still feel that no pin can stand straight up. Even when they do stand up, I know I'm throwing well and that pin was a lucky son of a gun.That's it for now. I enjoy answering your questions, so don't hesitate to write me. I'll answer them in a future entry. As always, thanks for reading and for supporting my teammates and me. We love seeing you out at the bowling lane.



Okay so all of this was stolen from Bengie Molina’s Blog Behind the Mask on http://www.sfgiants.com/ I just changed a few words to protect the innocent J

UABA cup

Bob: Well hello all and welcome to the third annual UABA cup. We have a might clash of the top two American teams. This is the first time in history it has been a all American final.With Pool boy sitting the bench after a bad chlorine accident, the Reds are really hurt in the back field with out him.
Jim: However, a unique side note Hi Ball has chosen to sit this one out for the blues. Being a cross over athlete in both bowling and the carnival hot dog eating contest he has finally worn down.
Bob : Lets get real he is as high as Deion Sanders and he is on the toilet right now trying to get rid of the forty eight hot dogs he ate last night.
Jim: With D Bow leading the Blues, and Lunch Money leading the reds this is going to be the greatest match in history. The game time whistle has blown and ball is on the move.
Bob: Lunch money starts the game with great shot, testing the pins and knocks them down. The tortoise is up next and he delivers a fast ball with a little too much paste and splits the pins. In the end its D Bow using his head and strikes first to get a 182 for the first round.
Jim: The second half is starting off much like the first. The Tortoise still has not found his stroke.
Bob: I beg to differ with you Jim I see him over there looking at the white girl with back practicing his stroke.
Jim: Yes Bob that's bound to throw off anyone's game.
Bob: Well it might be his blue balls that's throwing off his game Jim.
Jim: But it looks like Lunch Money will slot it home and bring the reds back into it with a 178. Bob: Looks like we have some over time in store for us. Jim: Wow there has never been a final like this. The game play is all over it looks like its coming in waves for both sides but neither side knows what to do.
Jim: Wow what is this, the nutty Professor XXX has just made a call into the arena. It looks like he is not going to make it the Assassin has him pined down with cross fire.
Bob: Right Jim once again I bet if he used his left hand he might be able to get his chi chis out of his women's purse. Then he would be here to support his team. With out his extra points the blues will never win.
Jim: Well lets get this extra time started. Lunch money starts it off with ahhh a nine pin nock down.
Bob: Hay what's this Red Line is sneaking up behind the Tortoise and hits the rerack. Ahh man its 7:30 I should have know some dirty play was about to happen. Well we are going to have to give him the spare because he would have picked that dirty 10 pin up.
Jim: Does not matter though looks like the tortoise and D bow might have found there stroke. Its a three way race down to the 119 minute. D Bow with a short lead, followed by Red Line and the Tortoise bringing up the rear.
Bob: Oh no D Bow leaves it open, and look at this Red Line and the Tortoise get big Red Xs. D Bow still has a chance. What is this racking problems on Lunch Money's side again? Just give him a spare. D Bow is up and has a chance to win the match. OH no he throws it right into the gutter.
Jim: OH wow I bet he would like a bowlagan after that one.
Bob: With racking problems on the Red Lines side the Tortoise will get to go first for the win. Jim: The Tortoise throws but ohh can only bring home a spare.
Bob: Red Line has the opertunity to win it for the mighty Reds and put down a record first hat trick in the UABA cup. Boom a strike and you can put that money in the bank. Red Line seals the deal.

Somebody better beat me or you guys are going to keep getting these long emails on Tuesdays.

Poet & You Know It

It was looking Rather hopeful for our Mudville team that day:
We were leading Norris 6 four to two with an inning left to play.
We got High Ball on a grounder and Devils Rainbow on the same,
Some would say they were a no show on this day.
Two down, none on, top of the ninth - we thought we'd won the game.

Norris 6 was despairing, and we grinned and cheered and clapped.
It looked like after all these years our losing streak had snapped.
And we only wished that Cubin B. the little skinny ugly lout,
Could be the Patsy who would make the final, shameful out.

Oh how we hated Cubin B, He was a blot upon the game.
Every dog in Sacramento barked at the mention of his name.
A bully and a braggart, a cretin and swine-
If Cubin B came to bat, We'd stick it where the moon don't shine!

Two out and up came Pool Boy to bat, with Lunch Money on deck,
And the former was a loser and the latter was a wreck:
Though the game was in the bag, The Mudville fans were hurt
To think that Cubin B would not come and get his just dessert.

But Pool Boy got a single, a most unlikely sight,
And Lunch Money swung like a lady but he parked it deep to right,
And when the dust had lifted, and fuckle fate had beckoned,
There was Pool Boy on third base and Lunch Money safe at second.

Then from the Silencer and Professor XXX throat, there rose a lusty cry:
"Bring up the slimy greaseball and let him stand and die.
Throw the mighty slider and let him hear it whiz
And let him hit a pop - up like the pansy that he is"

There was pride in Cubin B visage as he strode on the grass,
There was scorn in his demeanor as he calmly scratched his A$$
Ten thousand people booed him when he stepped into the box,
And they made the sound of farting when he bent to fix his socks.

The Tortoise's fable slider came spinning toward the mitt,
And Cubin B watched it sliding and he did not go for it.
And the umpire jerked his arm like he was hauling down the sun,
And his cry rang from the box seats to the bleachers: Stee-rike One!

The Silencer and Professor XXX raised such a mighty cheer,
The pigeons in the rafters crapped and ruined all the beer.
"You filthy ignorant rotten bastard slimy son of a beatch,"
We screamed at mighty Cubin B, and then came the second pitch.

It was are Hero's Tortoise's fastball, it came across the plate,
and according to the radar, it was going at least 8mph
And according to the umpire, it came in straight and true,
and the cry rang from the toilets to the bullpen: Stee-rike two.

Then the Mudville pitcher stood majestic on the hill
And Leaned in toward the plate, and then the crowed was still
And he went into his windup, and he kicked, and let it go,
and then the air was shattered by the force of Cubin B's blow.

He swung so hard his hair fell off and he toppled in disgrace
And the Professor XXX the Mudville's catcher looked in his glove.
With Cubin B's prostrate in the dirt he realized he put that one over the fence.
We threw wieners down at Cubin B, but that could not wipe off the smile on his face.

With Cubin B winning two in a row
The Professor XXX and the Silencer out to know
When their Tortoise throws the ball
The Norris 6 will always use a round house kick to win the show.