Bowling

Bowling

It is 64 years since I first went bowling, in Gillingham, Kent, at the age of 12. It was my first exposure to the American lifestyle and I loved it: the high-gloss high-tech world of expensive leisure; the heavy shiny bowling balls; the long gleaming lanes and big solid pins. The sound of ball-pin collisions! The strike. I took to it immediately and was obsessed with doing it. Why the company decided to build a bowling alley in Gillingham I have no idea—it’s a small nothing town (though quite nice). The only problem was the expense—where is a twelve-year-old boy to get the cash? So, I could only progress so much. Soon after that we moved to Blackpool and before long it had a bowling alley too; my parents started playing in a league and I managed to get in some bowling time. I got pretty good, though again the expense was prohibitive; if not, I would have been there all the time. In later years I bowled infrequently, either in England or America. My skills faded. Bowling was no longer part of my life. I did, however, go to a bowling alley at Chelsea piers in New York a few times and even bought my own ball and shoes. In Miami I’ve been once or twice, but not for the last decade or more. I became an ex-bowler.

Then, last Saturday, a friend of mine, Sebastian (tall, young, works out), suggested we go bowling. I dug out my old ball and shoes, and we repaired to Dolphin mall, a cavernous mega-mall in which thousands of people thronged (not many gringos). The bowling alley was large and loud (25 lanes, all full). It took me back. But things did not go well from the start: the soles came off my shoes (age and humidity) and I had to get house shoes; also, my bowling was rubbish. I guttered quite a few balls, which was not my thing at all. The scores were abysmal (Sebastian is a beginner). No strikes in three games (ouch). Didn’t even break a hundred. And yet I felt it coming back—that feeling of cool control. I got re-hooked. It was like the early days back in Gillingham sixty-four years ago as a twelve-year-old boy. Excitement, frustration, determination. Back home I went to YouTube to see how to hook the ball and quickly gained valuable information. Turns out I was doing it all wrong. I realized I could practice in my living room if I kept it gentle and soon felt an improvement. I ordered new bowling shoes and a bowling glove (I like to be well-equipped). I look forward to hitting the lanes again before long (fra poco). I’m a bowler again. I’ll be practicing at home again today—why not do it now?