The Ball Drops
An appropriate theme for a couple reasons. It is the first post of the new year, though it will not go into any great detail of my holiday. Nor will it be a retrospective of the previous year. Granted, this journal could use a little backfilling considering the frequency of my posts but it is best not to dwell on the past... but look toward the future.
And that future includes a new bowling ball. One of the gifts I received was a note telling me to go get fitted for a bowling ball and a bag. I had intended to do so when my schedule for the league resumed next week. However, I ended up subbing for one of my teammates last night and found myself at the pro shop a week early.
The process to get fitted for a ball is kinda funky. I went with a 15 pound ball which is slightly heavier than I normally bowl but no so much as to feel like I am fighting it. I had some choices as far as type and went with a ball that I could throw straight or with english, should I ever develop any. Finally I got the digits measured to set the right placement for the holes. Incidentally, I now know that I have flat thumbs.
They got to work and I went off to bowl my first game. I was still shaking off some my holiday rust when the guy came out with it to check the sizing. The ball felt pretty tight so he disappeared for a minute to widen the holes a touch. When he returned, he rechecked the fit and though snug, he said that it would loosen up a little bit with wear.
Her maiden voyage proved to be a good omen by laying out a rather decisive strike. Though I could not maintain that kind of momentum for the rest of the game, scoring a 113, it was a nice way to christen the new rock. The next two games showed marked improvement, 124 and 148 respectively, indicating to me that I may finally be clawing my way out of the holiday slump.
On a final note, I will confess that I named the ball. It seemed like every time I was about to take my shot a name kept running through my head: Josephine. I am as bemused about from which depths this name has surfaced as anyone with whom I've already shared this tale. Wherever it came from, it inhabits the ball now. Josephine, may the pins forever cower your approach.
And that future includes a new bowling ball. One of the gifts I received was a note telling me to go get fitted for a bowling ball and a bag. I had intended to do so when my schedule for the league resumed next week. However, I ended up subbing for one of my teammates last night and found myself at the pro shop a week early.
The process to get fitted for a ball is kinda funky. I went with a 15 pound ball which is slightly heavier than I normally bowl but no so much as to feel like I am fighting it. I had some choices as far as type and went with a ball that I could throw straight or with english, should I ever develop any. Finally I got the digits measured to set the right placement for the holes. Incidentally, I now know that I have flat thumbs.
They got to work and I went off to bowl my first game. I was still shaking off some my holiday rust when the guy came out with it to check the sizing. The ball felt pretty tight so he disappeared for a minute to widen the holes a touch. When he returned, he rechecked the fit and though snug, he said that it would loosen up a little bit with wear.
Her maiden voyage proved to be a good omen by laying out a rather decisive strike. Though I could not maintain that kind of momentum for the rest of the game, scoring a 113, it was a nice way to christen the new rock. The next two games showed marked improvement, 124 and 148 respectively, indicating to me that I may finally be clawing my way out of the holiday slump.
On a final note, I will confess that I named the ball. It seemed like every time I was about to take my shot a name kept running through my head: Josephine. I am as bemused about from which depths this name has surfaced as anyone with whom I've already shared this tale. Wherever it came from, it inhabits the ball now. Josephine, may the pins forever cower your approach.