David stared down the waxed alley and imagined the pins falling. He could see the track the ball would take on its way to topple the remaining pins. He could feel his muscles already practicing the movements. It was this zen moment that drew him back to the game. The moment when time stood still and the world consisted of only the lane, the pins and him. The ball—a physical manifestation of his will.
As he stood behind the line he knew exactly how to move his body to make the ball hit at just the right spot. He hadn’t faced a 7-10 split for several years; choosing to let go of his career to raise his family. A decision he never regretted. Better home than on the road. The time away from the game seemed to make no difference. His mind and body worked in sync all afternoon making the shots exactly as he envisioned. One more shot and the game would be over.
He began his approach to the throwing line. His arm floated back, torso twisted slightly, arm floated forward. The ball tracked exactly as he intended down the wooden alley striking the pins. In the space of a second all but one toppled over and David smiled. He let the smile fade before turning around.
“Oh no, I don’t know what happened.”
“That’s OK Daddy, you’ll beat me next time.”
“Maybe, but you did so well, I don’t think I’ll ever bowl as good as you.”
“Don’t say that Daddy, you just need practice is all.”
David helped his daughter gather up the equipment and hit print on the score board.
“We can put this up on the fridge.”
“OK, but the deal was if you won we go to the car show, but if I win we go for ice cream.”
“Yup, ice cream it is, then.”
David gathered up the bowling bags and headed to the door, watching as his daughter skipped in front of him, her winning score sheet swinging along side. He thought to himself that his decision to quit the professional league was definitely the right one.
“Hey Dad, why don’t we bring our ice cream to the car show?”