An amusing/not so amusing incident.


Some years ago whilst in Perth WA on business I was invited to have a go at ten pin bowling. Having played squash and tennis for quite a while in a number of countries, I thought this is a doddle. I arrived at the appointed time, and was told to go and choose a bowling ball. I did this and was suprised, nay, staggered to feel the weight of the bowling ball. Litle wonder they put three little holes in the ball into which you place your fingers to facilitate handling. No one told me though, that you place your fingers up to the first joint, you don't thrust three fingers into the holes up to the end of your fingers!. Staggering under the weight of the bowl, and clutching it to my chest, in the manner of a mother protecting her baby, I finally found the start line. "Your go" shouted my chums. Now I'm ready to admit as far as ten pin bowling is concerned, I am the original Eunuch, meaning I have seen it done, I know how it's done, but I have never done it!!!!!.However, allowing the bowl to fall gently by my side, I swung the bowl behind me and then, with all the grace and elegance for which I am well known, swung it forward as hard as I could. I realised, all too late, that I could not extricate my fingers from the bowl, so as the bowl flew down the lane with the speed of la Formula One motor car I went with it, and I swear to God, another couple of inches and I would haves scored a strike with my head.[I have seen similar incidents in Tom and Jerry cartoons!!] However, the day was not yet over. I could hear this roaring in my ears and realised it was the sound of hysterical laughter from around seventy odd other players. Slowly I staggered to my feet, still clutching the bloody bowl to my chest,. and I have to tell you, the walk back along that lane was one of the longest and most embarrassing journeys I have yet undertaken. It was then that my real problems began when I tried to pull my fingers free. Two of them came out, but the third finger on my right hand was well and truly stuck. Butter and oil were tried as lubricants, and there was a suggestion from some bright spark that a larger hole should be cut into the bowl in order to free my finger, which by this time was growing even larger. With oil dripping all over the place, and using a twisting motion, [the pain you can only imagine] my finger finally came free. Covered in light brown oil, my finger resembled a green fat gherkin straight out of the jar.
Now when my finger aches in the damp, I am reminded of my first attempt at ten pin bowling. Never, never again.

Caz.