I love my beginner’s luck. Well, that is until I forgot I have it.
Let me explain.
My small group from church decided to go bowling this week. I haven’t bowled in years so I was worried I’d break myself. Many images of how I’d break myself flashed through my mind in the days prior. Most of them involved me crashing to the floor and lying there until the glow of ambulance lights brought me back to consciousness. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.
(As an aside, one member of our party did bite it after getting a little too overzealous in her approach and crossed the foul line. She fell down, but there were no ambulance lights. And yes, we did laugh at her. But I pulled her back across the line and then helped her to her feet, so I argue that negates my participation in the laughter.)
Anyway, there’s one member of our group who is clearly more than a novice bowler. In the days prior to bowling night, it was discovered that he had a bowling card in his wallet. Clearly, we had a ringer in our midst.
With a less than spectacular showing my first time up, I got it together on the second frame. It seems since I hadn’t bowled in so long, the beginner’s luck applied. Put me down for a strike or two and some spares, and I was holding my own with the ringer.
About the sixth or seventh frame, I realized it had somehow become a competition between the two of us. He was just a few points ahead of me and I was catching up fast. He wasn’t amused by the prospect of being beaten by a girl, what with him being a card-carrying member of the Bowling League United (yes, I made that up) and all.
A few sulks back to his seat and a few struts back to mine and I had actually beaten him. Ahhh, I love my beginner’s luck.
So after some trash talking, we were ready for round two. I asked if he wanted to make a friendly wager on the game, which went ignored. Thinking he was scared, I decided to let it go.
About four frames into game two, I was happy he didn’t take me up on the bet. Why? Because I remembered I had beginner’s luck.
That’s the funny thing about beginner’s luck — it only applies to the beginning. Clearly, the powers-that-be in the Luck Department don’t consider game two the beginning and thus wiped my luck off the table, leaving me only with the real skills I had. And that turns out to be none.
He whooped me in game two. Fortunately, he was nice about it and didn’t gloat too much.
I’m sure if the tables were turned, I wouldn’t have partaken in a mountain of trash talk either. OK, that’s just a lie.
Misty Knisely, managing editor, can be reached at 574-732-5155 or via email at email@example.com. Follow her: @PharosMK