Well, I was hoping for another night at the kegling range like the one I had on Thursday. To summarize. I didn't. I abstained from all things barley or fermented and went out and tackled the first two games with aplomb, then near the end of the second game something sort of just clicked. We all know those moments. They are like the paradigm shift. When you know that nothing is going to be the same from this moment on. I fall short of saying epiphany but there certainly was a discernible instant when that was the old, and all this is the new. The exact moment was when something snapped in my left knee which is roughly 19 inches above my slide foot. It sounded like a green twig being snapped. By the third frame of the third game I could no longer hold my weight on that leg with the knee bent. I normally kick my back right leg back and around to the left as I slide, getting my center of gravity and body lower to the lanes upon release of the drilled orb. Well, the new look is a pseudo slide on the left and a short unbalanced hop with the right foot to keep my forehead out of the gutter. I couple of times I looked like a gooney bird flailing my arms in order to attract a mate, no to keep from toppling over the foul line and doing that whole header into the lanes thing. If I'd only known the extent of the evenings fun on the outset I probably would have made an evening of the St. Patty's Day Eve in grander style, and staggered out, instead of blowing an anterior cruciate ligament or medial meniscus and staggering out. I may have to see one of the Patels about my patella.
The team won the first game handily, lost 2 and 3 marginally, and may have taken series, I lost interest and focus during my experiments in upright joint bowling, riverdancing. Happy St. Patricks day to the lot of ya. See you soon.
Chuck Pace © 2007
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