Like the Swallows to San Juan Capistrano, so too have the Balls returned to All*Star
Last night several enthusiastic Chatterbowlers converged upon the All*Star Bowl on Indy's east side for a bit o' practice. Several returning leaguers were joined by some new initiates. I was just there in an incapacity as photographer and merry maker. The incapacity comes from the previous night at the very same alley designated for bowling, and maybe a beer or two.
On Sunday night I was well into what should have been a great game, dutch thru 6 frames when the unacceptable happened, something in my knee went "pop" I had eighty pins in the 5th and a strike in the 6th and after the warning call from patella town ended with a sub-average 150. The next game I was able to compensate by getting down lower and sliding less, it started grandly , spare and 4 strikes in a row, and ended with a flop in the 10th frame, still I garnered 192 pins but should have had over 200 with a decent closing frame. The last game welcomed my hip joining my knee in conspiracy. I was limping for the rest of the game and back spasms joined in with the other aches and we had a combo. The tune they where playing was "Stop in the Name of Love" and the Supremes were the supreme pains I was feeling.
In the Photo above Chris West says, "Jeepers gang, those two pins are sure resilient, it's a gosh durned split!" Or something to that effect.
So Monday, after a quick stop at the Chatterbox (and a load of good times) I decided to skip the pain reunion but to join the keglers none the less. I limped to the 'Vert and with my trusty Olympus digital camera in hand and made my to memory lanes. I was there like Navin R. Johnson, I had a special purpose, I was there to pixelate Chatterbowling practicers.

A wounded knees eye view of David A. launching an assault on a wedge of ten pins.
Chuck Pace ©2009 
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