Gemma-Rose Bowls

Over the weekend my family and I went bowling. Two games of bowling awesomeness lay before me. Two games to show off my fantastic skills. After all, I had been bowling more times than anyone else.

We put on our silly bowling shoes, selected our bowling balls and started the first game.

It was as much fun as I remembered. Lucky shots resulted in strikes. Shots that looked perfect knocked down only one or two pins. Our scores rocketed up. I was second maybe I could even get to first.

In a lull between my turns, I had a look at the other game, consisting of my two youngest sisters, Mum, and Dad.

Obviously they weren’t going to be as good as me. Not with my experience. After all, look at that throw of Gemma-Rose’s; elbow hooked round, ball whacking into the bumper, hardly enough power for it to reach the end. That wouldn’t result in anything more than a hurt arm.

But wait! That slow, awkward ball rolled into the pins, knocking them all down. A hasty glance at the scoreboard showed it to be a patchwork of strikes and spares, with large scores mounting higher every turn.

Gemma-Rose never even seemed to care where her ball landed, or how many pins she knocked down. She’d throw the ball and saunter back to her seat, never glancing at the result of her bowling. It was just fun throwing the ball and spending time with her family.

Me, I was just too competitive. Who cares if the perfect shot never comes? Who cares if you come last? Who cares if you majestically miss every single pin? It’s just a game, played not for a huge score, but for fun.

Next time, I’m going to be a Gemma-Rose. Maybe I'll get a huge score too. I could do the whole hooked arm thing with the bumper rebounds. Does not looking at the ball help...?