Bowling At the Moon

Another bowling season has come and gone. It was a good year for me in my Wednesday night league (at the venerable Melody Lanes in Brooklyn) and we took 2nd place (out of 14), only six measly pins out of 1st. Oh, well, the payoff was still good since we voted to forego trophies and a banquet and all that fol-de-rol and 2nd place came within an inch of giving us all the pin money we had paid out over the 30 weeks of our season. Who the hell wants another dust-gathering trophy anyway? Those $100 bills are mighty sweet.

My Monday night league was a different story. It's held at the "glam" bowling alley at the Port Authority building in Manhattan but the lane conditions themselves are so poor that bowling decently is impossible. Perhaps the bitter fruit of coming in 14th (out of 20) colors my disquiet but still...

This league is a "fun" league with all that implies. The gilded lilies of bowling trophies; a catered affair at a posh banquet room at Chelsea Piers with "special" awards given to special people who distinguished themselves in weird ways. Sort of a Miss Congeniality Contest for guttersnipes and very little pin money for doing well at the sport it ostensibly honors. And, damn it all, coming in 14th pretty much guaranteed I lost my shirt.