Monday, March 4, 2013

A Seussical Ode to Bowling

Today is the day!
A tournament of balls.
All men and 1 woman
Come to throw in these halls.
It is loud, very loud - 
Like the rolling of thunder,
Though not earth and clouds,
But 10 pins falling under.
Old men, young men
And those in between.
Tall ones, short ones
Fat ones and lean.
Not a spectator sport,
Or athletes on tv.
This isn't a sport
Groupies group up to see.
No cheerleaders cheer,
No shouting of mothers.
Just a whole lot of high-fivin'
From this weird band of brothers.
The smell of oil and sweat
Fills this great hall of halls,
Only scattering pins echo
From red, white, and blue walls.
There's beer! We have beer.
And big pitchers of water.
Bring your son and your mom,
Great granddad and daughter.
So come one and come all,
With your balls drilled, un-oiled.
Come with precision and speed
Before the lanes be spoiled.
You don't need a new shirt
Or some fancypants' shoes,
Or a mouthful of teeth,
Or a pill for your blues.
Cause there's no better place
For showing style, skill and grace.
Entertainment is waiting,
At a grass-growin' pace.

This is what I composed on Dr. Seuss' birthday, during a 6-hour long bowling tournament.  I embraced my love for my husband and rose at 4:45 am on a workday to drive 2 hours with him for his tournament.  What I saw that day was both eye-burning boring and hilariously entertaining, and provided me enough blog fodder for a year.  Whether it is entertaining to anyone else, well... that remains to be seen.  He wanted me to read it aloud to some of his teammates, but I - in a rare show of shyness - refused out of fear of embarrassment.  I dedicate this to my Nana, who shared a birthday with the great Seuss, and probably never picked up a bowling ball in her life.

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