Racism Essay: Bowling Blues: Becoming Better

1559 Words 7 Pages
Bowling Blues- Becoming Better It’s a typical Saturday morning. I get out of bed, walk up the stairs, and pour myself a bowl of Fruit Loops. The eating is slow because I do not plan on doing anything special today. At least, that’s what I believe until my monotonous meal is interrupted as my dad walks into the kitchen. “Ryker,” he says, “We are going bowling today. We will leave in twenty minutes.” Bowling! Excitement floods my mind as I tell myself that today will be the day that I will finally hit the hundred mark. Triple digits. I can’t remember my last score, but I know it was in the 70-80 range. I inhale the rest of my Fruit Loops, choking once, then run downstairs to get dressed. After I finish throwing on a pair of jeans and a purple …show more content…
He takes a bite, then sets his half-eaten slice down on a paper plate. “You’re all right, you’ll get it next time,” he says. I grab a slice, nod my agreement, and watch as my mom, my brother, and my dad roll. I pay close attention to my dad as he bowls. I know he usually scores okay; he usually gets more than 100. He grabs his light blue sixteen-pound ball and steps up to the lane. A brief pause is followed by slow steps as he creeps toward the alley. The ball cradled in his hand, he slowly swings his arm back, then begins to release the ball. The ball starts going down the alley, a foot from the center of the lane. However, I realize as it travels toward the front pin, that he had released the ball from an angle. His ball knocks over nine pins, and his next roll completes the …show more content…
Silence fills the air as I concentrate on what my next moves will be. Taking a deep breath, I stare at the head pin, visualizing the utter despair that I will bring to it and its companions. A step forward, then another. I fling my arm forward and release the ball- not hard, not fast, but at a sufficient speed and with sufficient force. The bowling ball rolls toward that front pin, and anticipation sets in. Have I done it? As if in slow motion, the ball misses the head pin. Disappointment hits, but is soon erased as the ball crashes into one whole side, causing five pins to fall down like patriots in the Boston Massacre. Not my best roll, I think to myself, but I still have another roll. Pins in place, ball in hand, I bowl again. My bowling ball doesn’t miss the head pin this time; instead it takes down all five pins, giving me my first spare! “Yes,” I scream, “Here I come.” Having slowed down my release, my score rises to a 90 with two frames left to go. I am ecstatic- how can I not hit 10 pins in four rolls? Forgetting all that my father told me, my first roll is the hardest one of the day. Gutter ball. “Slow down,” I hear from behind me. In my mind, I acknowledge the advice, and grab my ball for my second chance. The ball travels the length of the lane and knocks down six pins, cutting my deficit to four. Four! “I can get it,” I whisper to myself. “All it takes is four more

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