Good Manism: Squirrel! Time to get up. Time to eat chestnut.
Reality: We were going to our bowling league.
Figure that that connection, folks.
Good Man and I were first place in our league for several weeks (eight or even ten?), but finally we’ve fallen to third place.
There are only eleven teams in our league, so if you’re up against team eight, you actually draw a number and virtually bowl against that team for points. (The drawn team will not win or lose points in the game, only the team going against team eight.)
We’ve been doing really poorly lately, and started off with both of us getting sub-100 games. But we got better as the night went on.
On the third game, I started with a strike. Then a spare. Then a strike.
Good Man looked at me. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think we should talk about it.”
On the fourth frame I got a spare. On the fifth frame, I got a strike. The people playing next to us started paying attention.
On the sixth frame, I got an 8, and couldn’t pick up the spare.
I figured the game would finally turn normal, but on frame seven, I got another strike. And a spare. And a strike.
Finally, on the tenth frame, I got a split 8. Ugh. And…I failed to pick up any pins. The people next to us groaned and I did, too.
Since my first two games were eh, I didn’t end up with a 400 series, but I’m really excited to have a new best score!