It was the happiest surprise of the trip when the "size 11 1/2" bowling shoe fit snugly on my foot, just as if it had been labeled "13." I guess the sizing structure is different in foreign countries. We proceeded down the lanes where we immediately began bowling, not daring to waste any of our precious few hours doing anything but plugging our names into the computer. And plugging the names of the people next to us into the computer. And the people next to them. And then fixing their scores when their ball gets stuck halfway down the lane. And then changing their names when they drop in and out of games. Half of these people weren't even in our group!

In between maintenance on the computers, though, we managed to bowl five games, Mike, Josh, and I. Mike won the first four, handily, with Josh coming in second once, and third thrice - I think. I could be wrong. If I am, I'm sure I'll hear about it. My scores were 108, 126, 100, and 133, yet even with the lofty 133, I was still far beyond Mike. The fifth and final game began, and Josh was bowling very badly. He attributed this to a wrist injury he received in the rice fields of Guam. Or maybe it was something else; I wasn't really listening. What mattered was that I was having a great game, and was leading Mike after five frames! I had already rolled three strikes, and was surely on my way to a career high, which at this point, I think may have been 134.

Then he came back. He started hitting spares, he started hitting strikes, he started hitting the annoying guy behind the counter who kept offering free soda to anyone who bowled a strike while standing on their head. By the time his tenth frame finished, he had a whopping 153 points, and I was set to go, with only 136. Eighteen points in the final frame was anything but a sure thing, especially as it was nearing six'o'clock in the morning.

Most of the kids around us had long ceased bowling for sport, and were now playing pool with the balls, chasing each other around, trying to get phone numbers, or throwing balls into the gutter on purpose. But a cold silence drifted over our corner of the lanes when I stepped up to the line for the final frame of the night. A silence that spoke, saying, "This is your chance to beat Mike! Don't let him come back! And I'm supposed to be silent!"

I let the ball go, right down the middle, slightly to the right side. The whole place looked on, in terrified agony.

The ball hit the lead pin, and I watched gleefully as all nine of its companions surrendered around it. A strike! In the tenth frame! I would now have two shots at bowling immortality, with only eight pins between me and victory!

I strode to the mouth of the lane confidently, and let the ball fly. It slid a bit further to the left, just nicking the lead pin, and collapsed the whole right side. I looked up at the scoring device.

5 pins down. 5 pins up. 3 pins to win. 2 pins to tie.

This was the moment of truth. All the pressure, all the eyes, all the attention, all of it was on me and me alone. I had missed this shot before. I had blown this shot before. It was time to see if I had what it takes, what it takes to win a round of bowling. I took a deep breath, and began my approach to the lane.

-TO BE CONTINUED-

Part Fourteen

NHS Speech

"My View" Editorial

The October Surprise
|  Round 1 |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |
|  11  |  12  |  Final Bell  |

Journey to Jersey II
|  Intro  |  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |

Journey to Jersey I
|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |   6  |  7  |  8  |
|  9  |  10  |  11  |  12  |  13  |  14  |
|  15  |  16  |  17  |  18  |  19  |  20  |

An Epic Saga
|  Act  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |  16  |

Christian Rock Email

Freshman Room Draw
|  Part One  |  Two  |
|  Three  |  Four  |  Five  |