Why Impatient People Should Pick Another Sport
How much more counterproductive can a game get than launching a urethane projectile at set of plastic rods flipping you the birdie from 60 feet away?
Best case scenerio: you nail 'em all. But don't get too excited because 15 seconds after hearing the satisfactory crack of exploding pins richocheting off the backboard, your crowning achievement is cleared away by a heartless mechanization replacing your conquered pins with a fresh set, white and new and flipping you the birdie.
- No one wins... *ever:* The purpose of this spectacle is to raise your average. It's not as simple as slaughtering more headpins than your neighbor. This is intended to facilitate the opportunity for newcomers to compete with the advanced. What it actually *does* is create an extremely frustrating game-setting, where the only way to win is to kick your own butt.
Doesn't sound like a night out of fun to me. Hmm, a game where the harder I practice, the harder it will be for me to beat *myself.* Maybe, I'll stay home and clip my toenails instead. At least then I'd have some kind of notion of accomplishment.
- Everyone's an Expert: Nevermind that their averages are only 20 pins or so above yours. With stale-beer breath, freinds of friends of your father's bowling teammate from '72 that remember you from when you were "this big" will happily volunteer their successful (and often conflicting) bowling tips, leaving you dangerously tempted to test the structural sanctity of the plastic bowling pins against your thrashing foot.
- Bowling is Monotonous: This game's idea of variety is switching to another lane three feet away that is identical to the one you just played on. Then you get to switch back. And switch again.
Without divulging too many details, I think it's fair to say bowling could have gone better this week.
An upside is that Jaybowl lets KU students bowl for $1/game all summer long in the basement of the Kansas Union. Hurray for gluttons for punishment.