Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Winning

"Further to my letter of October 6, 2010..." (Yawn) "By my computations it appears that all discovery was due..." (Groan) "After a review of your responses..." (Go to hell...Run it up the flag pole and see if anyone salutes it...sue me - oops too late.) Just once, I'd like to open my mail and read "Congratulations, you've just won the following prize..." It really doesn't matter what I win...the raffle for the church's crazy quilt, tickets to a Barry Manilow concert, the sequel to the "The Story of Cutlery," hair rollers.

The last time I won something I was on a bowling team. I was so terrible at it, so gutter prone, I had the highest handicap in the entire league - maybe in the history of the league. It's been almost thirty years and I might continue to hold that title. I still wince when I recall one rather unfortunate occasion; I let go of the ball as I swung my arm backward nearly wiping out an entire row of bowling housewives on the opposing team who were sitting unaware on the bench. Early on I learned that bowling was a very competitive sport for these ladies, and not just a lark, as it was for me. But until that moment I had not realized it could also be quite dangerous. I made a mental note to look into my homeowners insurance to see if I needed extra coverage for negligent acts.

On the bright side, because I was a lousy bowler I had an amazing handicap. And because I had such an amazing handicap, when it came time to "Bowl For Turkey" just before Thanksgiving, I won the ceramic covered dish shaped like the bird. Likewise, at "The Christmas Bowl" I won the set of three serving trays, in graduated sizes, painted with a Poinsettia motif. That last win was just too much for the long-timers on the league. Some of them were heard to grumble (quite loudly, I might add) that "the lousy bowler" was winning all the prizes, while they - the true bowlers who cared deeply about the sport - were being left in the dust with no prizes to show for their expertise. I don't know if there is a natural correlation or if it was just coincidence, but the best bowlers were usually built rather sturdily. Therefore, I decided to take the road of least resistance and quit the league. A shame, really, since I loved bowling. I bought my own bowling ball with the finger holes drilled specifically to fit me. It was a beautiful twelve-pound blue sparkler; I even went the extra mile and had my initials engraved on it. It had a lovely carrying case as well, also blue. Although bowling shoes are never truly attractive, I was lucky enough to find a pair made by Hush Puppy that might have been mistaken for regular buff-colored loafers if one stood far enough away from them and then squinted really hard to make them blur a little.

I also loved the sound of the bowling alley...the rumbling down the lanes, the crack and kerfuffle of the pins as they dropped (or in my case, the lack of crack and kerfuffle followed by a hollow plunk.) And then there was the movement of the bowlers...the fist pulled back in a jerking motion followed by a "Yes" and a little bow and another jerking fist...maybe a "That's the way...that's it." High fives all around. I didn't have many of those moments either. Mostly, I'd line up my shot, then step - hop - step as I drew my right arm back and followed through and then prayed the ball would stay in the lane. Just one pin, please God in heaven. Most of the time I was able to hit something. But there were no high-fives, no fisted "Yeses." Mostly, it was pretty quiet as I walked back to my place on the bench trying not to look ashamed. But every once in a while I'd line up the shot perfectly, step - hop - step - and I'd remember to keep my thumb pointed to the right and my wrist flat as I executed the release and - bingo. "That's the way...that's it...Yes!" I'd do my chicken dance, and strut back to my place pridefully. But the other members of the league weren't fooled by any of it. They knew dumb luck when they saw it; and, there was still the matter of the handicap. They didn't appreciate some lousy bowler grabbing all the loot. Nevertheless, notwithstanding the dour faces of the league champions, or their gold and silver plastic trophies in the shape of bowling pins, I was the one with the ceramic turkey bowl and Poinsettia serving platters. There was no getting around that!

Since my bowling career ended, I haven't won anything. I'm not much of a sport model; I'm more like an old Packard. When I moved to Savannah, I was asked to join a tennis league. I think I must have looked the part of a "lady-who-tennised." I was thin, and yuppie looking, and lived in a new house, in a nice neighborhood, with children in private school. Ergo, it followed I must also be into tennis, right? Once again, I thought it was all just for fun. I didn't realize they actually expected me to know how to play tennis...or that they expected me to help them win matches. I just figured we'd schlep on over to the tennis courts and bat the ball around and then drink wine. I bought a tennis racket and racket cover and shoes and a visor; but, I didn't figure on a dress code. I think I showed up in jeans and a paint-stained T-shirt that said something like, "I Live To Boogie." In return, I was greeted by ladies in little pristine white skorts with matching tops. Being a fast learner from past events, the morning wasn't over before I told them I thought I was better off bowling.

Still, I would dearly love to win something. And although I don't expect it, I would be lying to you if I didn't admit I would love to win the short story competition next Spring. Unfortunately, I don't think I can rely upon handicapping for an edge over the competition. Just ink, and paper, and a couple of thousand words. Who would have thought it was so difficult. I mean, no balls, no pins, no nets, and no dress code. Now, if I can just come up with something interesting to say, and manage to stay out of the gutter...it would be lovely to do the chicken dance.

13 comments:

  1. Well you'd have my vote for winning a short story contest, that's for sure!! And how can you not come up with something interesting? Your blog is a veritable feast of interesting.

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  2. Oh Grad, this was so much fun to read. You worry about not having anything to say in a short story for the competition but I think you could make a wonderful short story from what you just wrote about the bowling and tennis. If your stories are anywhere near as delightful as the stories you post on you blog I think you have a fair chance of winning :)

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  3. Inkslinger, might I say that you have great taste (ahem). P.S. You don't think you could actually get on the judging panel, do you???

    Stefanie, I got a million bowling stories. I actually stayed in the league two seasons before I gave up. Those ladies were out for blood. The tennis ladies were less aggresive, but more decisive - they knew I wasn't tennis material the minute I walked up and said, "Hi." One of them asked pointedly whether I had any "tennis clothes." Uh-oh.

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  4. Naturally I agree completely with the other two commenters about your writing. But I'm here for solidarity on the sports front. I am also an atrocious bowler, and an atrocious anything-er if it requires a ball or hand-eye coordination. When I was a bookish girl, teachers thought it would 'help' to put me on sports teams. Ha! Netball was the bane of my existence. I remember still the only game we won, when the captain came up to me afterwards and said 'Well done. You were not quite so awful as you usually are.' And that was the highest praise I ever received. Well I won't go on, but you are not alone!

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  5. Litlove, I even sucked at P.E. My first year of college I had to take phys. ed. I chose archery first, then fencing - I figured they were more genteel and less sweaty than the typical sport. Actually, I enjoyed them both but simply wasn't coordinated enough for fencing. I always took it in the little embroidered heart. Zounds...that sounds like an analogy, doesn't it.

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  6. Loved your bowling and tennis memories. I can just picture you with your "I love to boogie" t-shirt surrounded by those prim tennis wives. You should definitely write them up into a short story. I've had my share of sports disasters (coming last or almost last in various races on sports day for example).

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  7. Remember, every time someone visits your site here, you have "won" our attention and respect.

    Apologies for being off topic, but: I want to alert people that in today’s HuffPo, Al Franken has an alarming article on how the U.S. FCC is now making rulings that threaten net neutrality for getting sites like this one on mobile broadband devices. The FCC is also not banning the “paid prioritization” that could let corporate blogs buy the fast lane, putting our sites in the slow.

    The outcry from independent websites was crucial yesterday in improving the FCC ruling. But we need to stay alert and inform each other as new threats come up. We need a community of Paul Revere web bloggers.

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  8. I KNOW you will write a great story--and as the others have said you are definitely a winner in our book! Merry Christmas, Grad, and keep on writing/thinking/being you.....

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  9. Just dropping by one of my favorite blogs to say Happy Holidays, Grad!

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  10. Pete, I am a born klutz and so not very good at sports. In order to prove that point...three days before Christmas I fell on my walkway going to my car. Didn't trip on anything (and NO, I wasn't drinking), just fell over my own feet. Going down I prayed, "Please don't let me break a hip," as old folks tend to worry about hip breakage. Bruised and battered I picked myself up. Someone such as myself should stay off all sports acreage.

    Shelley, hope you had a wonderful Christmas as well. I heard something about the net neutrality hearings, but I'm not sure I understand what the issue is. My gut instinct about the government is: less is more. I'll have to learn more about this issue. Thanks for the heads up.

    Tinky, coming from one of my most favorite blog buddies (with a marvelous site, everyone, I might add. Please follow her link), that is praise indeed!

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  11. Good luck with the short story comp, Grad - and I have to be very unoriginal and second (third?) everyone else's comments about your wonderful writing!

    The last thing I won was a meat tray at our local RSL club - and I'm a vegetarian. (Is it only in Australia that people actually believe a tombstone-sized styrofoam tray laden with raw meat is a brilliant prize I wonder?)

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  12. BDW, I would LOVE a slab of raw meat! Now that's something I could really sink my teeth into - both figuratively and gastronomically speaking.

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  13. You're hilarious, Graddikins. Sounds like you and I would have a fair contest on our hands at the bowling alley - and you're not alone. I never win anything either, not even the meat tray.

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