Makeup. Breakup. Then Break down.
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Four gave Giant effort, and got Giant results. No I'm not still talking about Manning, Burris, Toomer and Strahan. I'm talking about Bowling again. Last night was the Beer and Pizza leagues fourth outing. But there was one team that had not been around for the first night. Chatterbox 4, is that team. That is Rich Culy's team. I am a gun for hire, a man without a country, a mercenary, a rogue a ringer. John Gentry is another. We are the Jumpers, and we are not afraid of Samuel L., we are league subs.
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Last night Gentry and I along with the newest Jumper, jolly Jenni, joined C-Box 4 for a makeup series before another, the regularly scheduled series. We hurt ourselves. We bowled Six games. We all gave super-human effort. Three of the four of us had higher series in the final three games than in the first three. I hadn't bowled a 200 in any of the Fall/Winter leagues this season. I did in my first game of the night last night. And I didn't sneak up on it either I Rambo'd it. 245! Five games later, the final game of the night. I book-ended the great series' with another, with fatigue setting in I crushed another 215. Jenni had milestones too. We bought her a heavier ball which gives her more control, and she proved it all night (without the help of the E. Street band), she had her first ever league turkey (three strikes in a row) and a 153 high game, also a personal best. Today we both look like we were in the tail section of Oceanic Flight 815; all beaten and battered, gimping and limping, but unlike Tommy Boy Brady we are winners!
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The Shirts are here! The shirts are here! As we wee finishing up the first series, the make-up series the other teams were arriving for the regularly scheduled events. The man for whom four bowling teams are named (The Andrichiksers?), or more accurately, who owns the Chatterbox for whom four teams are named, arrived with a box full of beautiful bowling shirts. We all looked the part in the kegling condition in our striking (and sparing) new duds. Life was good. Last night, which the three subs-men of the apocalypse will be feeling until next Tuesday I'm sure, was a blast, a hoot and a fun and rewarding night. I'm off to get Jenni and I walkers so we can do our employment gainfully until the next time orbs are aimed and pins are in peril.
Super Sub Human out!

Chuck Pace © 2008 |