I fucking love bowling. It’s quite possibly my favorite thing to do in the world that doesn’t involve alcohol, a GameCube controller, or chicken tenders. There’s nothing quite like hitting the pocket and watching all those pins fall like the little wooden pussies they are. My long journey to being infinitely better than all of you at bowling started a year and a half ago when my fraternity decided to start a weekly bowling league.
The league started out innocently enough as nothing more than an excuse to fuck around and pregame before going to the bars. But after about five weeks, a strange thing happened: we all started getting pretty good. People started showing up a half-hour early to warm up, averages started getting up into the mid 100s, and people stopped laughing when they threw one into the gutter. 100 guys who were a few years and thousands of cigarettes removed from their high school glory days found that killer instinct once again. But instead of truck-sticking dorks on Friday nights, we were banging home hambones every Wednesday at 6 p.m.
Some of you might be thinking, “But ShutTheFuckUpDonny, all the kids on the bowling team in high school were losers!” Wrongo. They were, in fact, waaaay cooler than you ever were. Look at the picture of bowling legend Pete Weber at the top of your screen and tell me you wouldn’t punch yourself in the face if that guy told you to do it.
All jokes aside, a bowling league is a great way to get your whole chapter in the same place once a week (because God knows that doesn’t happen at your chapter meetings). It’s a good way to blow off steam and the best excuse to skip going to the gym. Local lanes are always looking for business, too, and will most likely give you a good deal on bowling and booze. It’s a skill that you can pick up quickly and use for the rest of your life even when your knees fall out from beneath your body and your liver commits suicide.
P.S. Don’t be a straight-bowler. Losers straight-bowl. Virgins straight-bowl. Wally Bryton straight-bowls. Take your thumb out and put a little spin on that bad boy; it’s incredibly easy to pick up. Thank me later..
Image via Twitter/Pete Weber