Lawn bowls
I have been known to deride lawn bowls as geriatric marbles, a game you play when you can’t play any other, about as exciting as watching paint dry.
However, I had a secret ambition to try the sport and tonight it came to fruition.
Our social club at work organised a family bowls night at Boulder. Juliet and I took the four kids and the bigger ones joined me on the rink, or green, whatever you call it.
After a few practice bowls we found our length and got serious about the competition.
I can say that I wasn’t a total flop and managed to get most of my bowls in play within a few yards of the little white ball (jack?) that forms the target.
Of the dozen or so ends, or rounds, that we played I won a few. Young Michael though was the star and took all before him to whip us into submission. He even toyed with us at the end, showing some backhand skill that none of us big people were prepared to try.
It’s a shame that bowls doesn’t pay as well as tennis, golf or soccer or I’d be confident of his (and our) long-term future.
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