Friday, July 25, 2008

It Came from Lane 28

My class demanded to go to a baseball game. I checked out tickets to the Mets, which I thought were too expensive--I'm not asking 50 bucks a piece to sit in the bleachers--and minor league teams seem to only play at night.

"I want to play bowling," said one of my students, in the way only an ESL student could, and that was the beginning of our big trip yesterday to a bowling alley. I can't bowl worth a damn, and many of my students were even worse. The highest scoring bowler walked up to the line, rolled the ball with both hands, and somehow managed to hit pins consistently--a gutter ball and then a spare.

One of my students complained bitterly that everyone else kept depriving her of the ball she liked--a green and red affair with an alien painted on it.

"We'll find you another ball." I said.

"No," she replied, "I think this one is magic."

"That's ridiculous," I told her.

She wrestled the ball from her classmate and insisted I try it. I bowled a strike. The next time she gave me the ball, I bowled another.

I've gotta stop hanging around bowling alleys.
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