Sunday, January 31, 2010

Coaching Bowling

I took Zoe bowling on Saturday and was going to drop her off and shop while she bowled. But the person who was to be taking her, also coaches, and told me that I had to go in and coach as well as drive her there. I usually don’t respond when people boss me, but this was Richard ... so why not let him tell me what to do. I spent enough years telling him what to do.

I am always saying yes to something I don’t know much about. In the first case, I haven’t bowled for years. I did bowl at my friend’s parent’s bowling alley in junior high. But now I hardly know how to score . But I could see Richard was desperate for having the day off, so I told him I would take his place.

When I got to the Pacific Place Bowladrome, I asked for my first coaching lesson. I was told – cheer for anyone who makes a strike, give a high five to anyone who does a spare, and if every ball goes down the gutter, then find some way to give some positive reinforcement.

More rules followed.

Give the participants a call if they forget to go up to the alley when it is their turn. Get them down from the alley if they are up there when it is someone else’s turn.

Write the scores on their cards when each game ends.

That was the end of lesson one.
Watching the social culture between the bowlers became curious, since I was sitting there with not much else to do, but watch.

“Here is something I owe you,” said a a mentally challenged woman to Greg who was at my table. She put a can of pop in front of him.

“She’s my girl friend,” he whispered to one of the workers when they enquired about why he received that gift.

Bill has his own bowling ball and his own shoes. Half way through the morning his ball was missing. Apparently the bowlers put their personal bowling balls in with the regular balls, and then the balls goes up and down the alley. But he hadn’t seen his ball come through for a long time and he began to get nervous. Soon there were four people looking for that ball – a ball with a white stripe going through it. I am pretty removed from all of this, this being my first time as a bowling coach and all. And so I am curious as I see coaches going up and down the alleys, checking for lost bowling balls. I can’t tell one ball from another, but they assure me there is a difference that I will get to understand and they are all out helping Bill.

I watched a social butterfly flit from one team to another, being as coy as could be with some of the men she liked.

“I got this UPS hat at work,” one man told Joan. When she asked him how, he said he got it for going up the one way road, the right way. I asked Joan what that meant. She laughed and said, well, he works at UPS and some of the isles are one way. I guess he got it as a reward for “doing it right”.

Do you know what I was surprised at? When I went to give the first high five, I could feel my stomach knot up. “What am I thinking of. This man/child is going to hit my hand so hard that I will bend over with pain,” I thought. I had seen his bowling ball go down the alley and the sign said, 26 mph. But no. Gentle as a lamb, when it came to touching me. Just a bare brush of flesh between us.

When Wyona and I go to London Monday next, we are taking Zoe with us. I will spend some time every day taking her some place: Hyde Park, Sister Act, Regent’s Park, the London Zoo, the London Eye, ked, Clapham Court, a ride on the bus that circles London proper where we can see all of the great sites. She loves to sit right at the front of the top of the double decker bus. I hear her gasp as the bus driver goes too close to another bus, or just seemingly misses a pedestrian. I will do a lot of walking in the parks with her. That will be good for my health – the walking. I don't think we will be doing any bowling. We will save that for when we get home.

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