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05 March 2009 @ 08:15 am
I don't think anyone really believed me when I kept going on and on about how much I hated this team we played last night. How big of assholes they really are. Sore losers? A-number one. Was it the murmurs of, "Fuck these guys" as they wandered around bitching to their sore-loser friends in the league? Perhaps the infant's wail whenever one of us got a strike, exclaiming, "Just throw it down there and something good will happen," insinuating our good fortune was merely at the hands of luck and not through any hard work and practice in improving our skill. Or how about when it was all said and done when they openly called us Sandbaggers, saying that we had been cooking our averages extra-low all this time, just for the express purpose of pulling a bonanza of a third quarter out of our asses to prevent them from attaining a slot in the Final Four.

I must say, the team known as We Need Bumpers really needs a lesson in good manners.

I'm not gonna lie to you, I had no intention of discussing any of these matters with them. In fact, I had no intention of even looking at any of them. My focus was on my own game, and boy did I pour it on last night. A 183 in the first game, 29 pins above my average. A 236 in the clinching second game, 82 pins above my average. After that, the third and final game didn't even matter. We had the first two, and it would've taken an utter collapse to lose the Total Pins point. So my 137 (behind what had to have been a record 6 splits in one game), didn't do enough to do any damage, even though we lost that game.

I'll tell you what, I'm about as proud of my team as can be possible. Not only to stand up under the pressure of a winner-takes-all scenario, under the pressure of scrutinizing eyes from a team of poor sports, but to collectively come together and peak at the same time ... by golly, it was glorious.

What's left is a fourth quarter that's essentially meaningless. We've got our slot in the Final Four, that's all that matters. Now, if only we can get my dad and brother's team in there with us, then the championship rounds will be half-filled with teams fairly new to the sport of Unfun Bowling. Well, it COULD be fun if the people weren't such serious assholes about everything. Then again, last night sure was a blast; nothing better than sticking it to a bitter and twisted rival.

Sandbagging, huh? Question the integrity of my team, will you? That's what you get, punks. Enjoy the view from the bottom, assholes, and if you manage to weasel your way into the finals, we'll be there to knock you right back down.