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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, December 27, 1912, Image 10

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-12-27/ed-1/seq-10/

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the expense of much, time, pro
fanity and many dollars. After
20 years of strenuous but futile
effort I 'still feel I am a bowler
and yearn to-create the impres
sion in the mindsof other men.
I remember one night in Cin
cinnati, when, because I was a
good customer, the proprietor of
the'Enterprise alleys condescend
ed to take me on. I started with
p. strike and kept on striking.
Along about the seventh frame
there was a crowd around the
score board and my blood was
Surging so that the pins looked
like a yellow fog in the distance";
my knees smote together and I
was fairly choking with suppress
ed excitement.
I tried to be calm, to recall and
emulate the blase demeanor of
other great bowlers, hut I
couldn't help thiriking of a clean
300 total and the magnificence of
the' idea -made me wobble as I
sent the eighth ball down the
Another strike! If I was ting
ling with excitement in the earlier
stages, I was now a nervous vol
cano. The gang wa? rooting as I
clutched the 16-pound mineralite
with my trembling pie hook and
essayed that terrible ninth- I
felt my nerve going, and I xm
fess now that it was chiefly by
good luck that I kept the ball on
the alley. Another, strike!
"Shucks!" thought I, "this
bowling is a cinch. Any man who
can't average along about 250 is
a dub." So saying, I called upon
my last atom of gameness and 1
drew a split.
. By a lucky kick-off I spared it,
but the jig was up. I got six
pins for my fill, lobbed my second
ball down the gutter and sat down
as close to fainting as I ever was
in my life.
That score of 266, however, was
the talk of the town for a few days
and I challenged the city cham
pion for a match at 25 bucks a
I Was surprised at the cheerful
alacrity with which he took me
on and it pained me to note the
eagerness with which other mod
erately good bowlers sought me -out
and proposed little individual
events for sums only limited by
the extent of their utmost re
sources. "Don't these turnip-headed ga
loots realize that I'm the real
thing?" thought I. "What in
heaven's name has a guy got to do
to make them respect him?" I
wondered. I signed them all up
determined fo clean up the town.
There is no use prolonging this.
My highest score in the six
matches I played during the fol
lowing two weeks was 162, and
ranged downward to a depth I
prefer not to recall.
Altogether I divided some nine
ty odd plunks among my opponr
'I'mia remarkably good bowler,
but also an unusually good thing-,
so I confine myself now to friend
ly matches and always expect to"
cop-3Q0 when I start off with a
,Funny game bowling is
darned funny Uncle Dud.

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