Pretty much sums up how I feel about bowling...
I have this tolerance/hate relationship with bowling. The main thing against bowling is that I hate things I suck at.
In softball, you don't have to run with perfect technique to get to a base, you just run. In volleyball, you can set the ball funky and someone with a stronger arm corrects the damage. In almost any sport, there is room for variables and mistakes for one to be able to enjoy playing a game.
But in bowling... you keep your arm straight, line up with the arrows on the floor, and visualize the ball going down the center and -STILL- the ball gutters. You can't blame it on the sun in your eye, or because someone was chasing you, or because the ball unexpectedly came at you. If you have a bad game, it's because you suck and, asides getting the bumpers up, there is no apparent way to get better at bowling. I'm not trying to play professionally; I'm just trying to get through a night with friends and family!
So, of course, isn't it perfect fate that I married a man who has his own bowling ball (engraved with his name), his own bowling shirt, his own bowling shoes, and his own bowling ball luggage that accommodates TWO bowling balls? (One space was supposed to be for his future wife's engraved ball. Eight years into our marriage and the second cavity remains empty.)
Because of my incompatibility with bowling, it has been a while since David has taken out his equipment... as apparent here by the spider eggs on the underside of his ball carrier. (Or maybe they're little spider bowling balls?) We discovered them right before entering the bowling alley for my niece's 4th birthday party on Monday.
When I go bowling, there are 3 for-sures:
1) I will get one strike and/or spare
2) I will throw at least 3 gutter balls
3) I will break a nail
Now, you know that if ever I bowl with you, it's because I really REALLY like you!