The Edge here.
This is a call. A call for a substitute. Why waste precious bandwith on such a request?
Here's why. One of our key team members has an injury. She can't bowl. Our team needs four, dependable, trash-talking, beer-swilling, occasionally-confessional, always-dapper members to hit the lanes every Sunday night. Varsity, Flo, the Hoff and Edge are on board. But what if one of us has to stay home to feed his or her raccoon? Hence, the call up.
What will you get out of the bowling team? I can only speak for myself. Before the Third Rail Bowling Club, my life was a barren cubicle, a series of meaningless interactions, and lonely, TV dinners. Wait, that’s not true. Let me start again.
Before the Third Rail Bowling Club, I thought I knew all the answers. I run, I write, I go to the movies, I go to rock shows, I have friends. But I don’t do anything regular, like poker night or boys night out or Sunday football hang-outs. I see people when I see them. It wasn’t until we started bowling that I realized the comfort of a club. And not a club that's based on membership dues or going through a rigorous interview process or praying to God or dousing yourself in creamy Italian dressing and traversing the campus on a set of crutches until Thursday. Hazing? No way. In fact, to join our bowling club you don’t even have to bowl well.
To me, the key to Third Rail is knowing that there’s always going to be a group of friends gathering at 6:30 on Sunday night at Lanes & Games to stick three fingers into a hardened melon. You can go every week. You can skip a month. But whenever you return, you’ll find somebody buying the first round of IPAs, somebody suggesting onion rings, and somebody with whom to exchange high fives.
I never high five people in real life. In fact, I never actually compete. Sure, I’ve got a job that's driven by the need to fight, almost daily, for space on the front page. I'm also trying to keep other papers from beating me on particular stories. But there's something at stake in those cases. And there are people (bosses) watching me (worker) to make sure I don’t get beaten.
At the alley, there's competition with no repercussions. It may be hard to understand the Zen of Lanes & Games, with its rusty-colored, wall-to-wall carpeting and the giant, ‘60s era ball washer in one corner. Think of this: You compete against others and you compete against your own history. In my case, I barely knew how to bowl a couple of months ago. In fact, my first time out I put my pointer finger in one of the holes of the ball, sort of the equivalent of trying to strum your piano. I've learned, in just a few weeks, how to be more consistent. My average - established in my first three sessions - is 118. But in the last two weeks I've rolled games of 147 and 154. And you know what? I felt good rolling a 154. I kicked ass.
Final reason to answer the call up: The people, both on the team and off. I missed three solid weeks in the season and returned to find Flo and the Hoff chatting with some dude with a giant wrist stabilizer and a nice lady about her boyfriend issues. I suddenly realized there had been some serious bonding going on here and not only with other Third Rail members. We were part of the Alley. Last week, something even more shocking: I saw a guy order a steak from the kitchen. And he told me he liked it.
That’s all from here. I could list other reasons why you should sub – the potential for shirts, the Playboy pinball machine downstairs, the shoes – but that would take too much time. For now, I’d like to hear from somebody who understands why it just might be fun to hit the alley on the occasional Sunday night and be part of the prestigious Third Rail Bowling Club.
Oh, before I forget… last week’s scores:
The Hoff: 124, 117, 145
The Edge: 130, 154, 131
Sub Craig: 161, 186, 167
Flo: 103, 105, 132
What will you get out of the bowling team? I can only speak for myself. Before the Third Rail Bowling Club, my life was a barren cubicle, a series of meaningless interactions, and lonely, TV dinners. Wait, that’s not true. Let me start again.
Before the Third Rail Bowling Club, I thought I knew all the answers. I run, I write, I go to the movies, I go to rock shows, I have friends. But I don’t do anything regular, like poker night or boys night out or Sunday football hang-outs. I see people when I see them. It wasn’t until we started bowling that I realized the comfort of a club. And not a club that's based on membership dues or going through a rigorous interview process or praying to God or dousing yourself in creamy Italian dressing and traversing the campus on a set of crutches until Thursday. Hazing? No way. In fact, to join our bowling club you don’t even have to bowl well.
To me, the key to Third Rail is knowing that there’s always going to be a group of friends gathering at 6:30 on Sunday night at Lanes & Games to stick three fingers into a hardened melon. You can go every week. You can skip a month. But whenever you return, you’ll find somebody buying the first round of IPAs, somebody suggesting onion rings, and somebody with whom to exchange high fives.
I never high five people in real life. In fact, I never actually compete. Sure, I’ve got a job that's driven by the need to fight, almost daily, for space on the front page. I'm also trying to keep other papers from beating me on particular stories. But there's something at stake in those cases. And there are people (bosses) watching me (worker) to make sure I don’t get beaten.
At the alley, there's competition with no repercussions. It may be hard to understand the Zen of Lanes & Games, with its rusty-colored, wall-to-wall carpeting and the giant, ‘60s era ball washer in one corner. Think of this: You compete against others and you compete against your own history. In my case, I barely knew how to bowl a couple of months ago. In fact, my first time out I put my pointer finger in one of the holes of the ball, sort of the equivalent of trying to strum your piano. I've learned, in just a few weeks, how to be more consistent. My average - established in my first three sessions - is 118. But in the last two weeks I've rolled games of 147 and 154. And you know what? I felt good rolling a 154. I kicked ass.
Final reason to answer the call up: The people, both on the team and off. I missed three solid weeks in the season and returned to find Flo and the Hoff chatting with some dude with a giant wrist stabilizer and a nice lady about her boyfriend issues. I suddenly realized there had been some serious bonding going on here and not only with other Third Rail members. We were part of the Alley. Last week, something even more shocking: I saw a guy order a steak from the kitchen. And he told me he liked it.
That’s all from here. I could list other reasons why you should sub – the potential for shirts, the Playboy pinball machine downstairs, the shoes – but that would take too much time. For now, I’d like to hear from somebody who understands why it just might be fun to hit the alley on the occasional Sunday night and be part of the prestigious Third Rail Bowling Club.
Oh, before I forget… last week’s scores:
The Hoff: 124, 117, 145
The Edge: 130, 154, 131
Sub Craig: 161, 186, 167
Flo: 103, 105, 132
Aw. A perfect summary of why Sunday is my new favorite night of the week. And I enjoyed your high-five link.
ReplyDeleteAlso, speaking of our new best friends, I totally thought that sub's name was Craig.
Dear Edge, Between you, me, and the thousands of readers who tune in weekly, I want to thank you for posting a longer post. When I read your second paragraph I saw my life flash before my eyes. And I feel your pain, I yearn to step out onto the oiled maple and pine at Lanes and Games. That is because I am a sub in search of an alley, longing for the smell of beer mixed with pepperoni grease, desiring the panorama of 14 pound balls, wanting the opportunity to score the perfect game. Hell, just wanting the opportunity to score. Did anyone get the number of that nice lady with boyfriend issues?
ReplyDeleteYou see, where I live, a Lanes and Games can be hard to come by. Sure, Winona has two bowling alleys. But if you want to have some summertime fun at the alley with your boys, can you? No. The lanes are closed in summer. Does that make sense? No. Summer is the best time to drink beer, ergo, the best time to bowl. But I guess most Minnesotans would rather be out on a lake. But they sit on lakes in the winter, too, freezing their asses off trying to catch the same fish that eluded them all summer. Sorry...I digress.
Just down the road from where I live (6 miles, which in Boston takes at least half a day to travel but only takes 6 minutes here), a bowling alley recently closed. So where is one to go? Lanesboro? You might think. But they are merely the Bed and Breakfast capital of the world and the Rhubarb Capital of Minnesota. Not a lane to be found.
So I'll sub, but you may have to pass the hat. Guaranteed I'll buy the first round. I may even go high class and get a pitcher of Leine's! Until then, you know where to find me. I'm the guy high-fiving his pet raccoons.
A final question: Is it really SAFE to use that ball washer?
Dear Edge,
ReplyDeleteI'd love to sub, but somehow i've been sucked in by the evil Northeast(?) portion of the states. I live in Texas so of course i have no idea where any other state is relative to Texas. We have big egos.
I must say you have incredible blogging abilities to have at least 2 texan followers. The shellacked gourds post was obviously a winner, if not by you. Good luck in your quest.