One of the fond memories I have, is bowling with my Dad on the men’s league. Dad was very competitive and took it all quite seriously. I never shared his zeal for winning at all costs, and I think we may have both learned something about each other from those times. Good old dad used to add pressure to any important bowling situation; if the game was close and I had to do well he would give me the special talk just before it was my turn.
“Ok it’s all up to you the team is counting on you,” he would tell me adding greatly to the pressure I was already feeling.
Well, as you might guess I tried my hardest but my nerves got the best of me and I missed the shot. However, being the understanding fatherly mentoring type he would say something like.
“Because of you we lost, you let us all down.”
“I know that’s because you reminded me how important it was, it makes me even more nervous. If you just wouldn’t tell me I’m sure I would do better, please don’t remind me!”
“You need to know how important winning is I’m helping you.”
‘No dad, actually you’re not.”
But I’m afraid he never got it and continued to remind me nonetheless. Furthermore, once our team was way ahead he would coax me to miss some shots so my handicap would stay higher and we could use the extra pin I might receive on my average another night. I refused explaining that we were all there to have fun and try our best and that cheating was unacceptable as far as I was concerned. He would scowl at me and call me a baby.
In addition, when it came to an important night and we were bowling one of the best teams, he would actually ask me not to bowl so he could bring in a substitute to bowl in my place.
“We can increase our chances of winning,” he would plead.
I thought he was crazy asking me to pay for bowling and not bowl. Plus, I thought the whole bowling thing was him and I having fun together and sharing camaraderie. Evidently he didn’t share my view.
“You’re no son of mine… my son would take one for the team.”
“Why not just get rid of me and hire professional bowlers to bowl with you, then you could win a lot more games.”
“Don’t be silly,” he would say, but I always thought that he was actually tempted. However, I’m sure Mom would have stepped in reminding him that I was his son and that winning was not more important than family.
I never understood him… or him me. Winning was just not a big enough deal worth scheming and cheating, and at best what benefit would he enjoy? A little trophy that tens of thousands of other men also possess? We never agreed but we had fun nonetheless and I wish that he was still able to bowl today.
Unfortunately, now he is confined to a wheelchair and I take him to the alleys to watch me bowl. I know he enjoys time out of the house and talking with the guys. And, when it comes time for that all important final shot and the score is even, he still gets me aside and says. “The team is counting on you, don’t let them down.” And, like always I get up there and miss. But now, instead of getting mad I’m just glad that at 85 yrs old he is still there to rattle me at all.
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