The Shanes' finest hour. A tight tussle with the old enemy. Blown open when a lucky shot knocked the jack into an off-target clump of Sisters' bowls, suddenly they were six up. Backs to the wall. Plucky resistance. Spirit of Anzac all round. Five down when the bell rang for last end. Best hope to salvage some pride and cut the margin.
All Shanes stood up under pressure. Your correspondent, Hunter, Dave - we all delivered good solid shots, nothing amazing though. Suddenly we were holding 4 bowls and only needed to improve a tad to tie. The Sisters' no 3 put her last bowl in the gutter - choked. We held five - good enough to tie.
Our skip stepped up and got his bias wrong. As his bowl scooted at 90° to the intended course the Shanes each retreated into our inner worlds of calm in our own way. Hunter smoked furiously.
Their steely skip Geraldine had defused bombs of this sort all night and I expected she would steer them home. Her first attempt was a cross between a draw and a drive and missed the jack by a whisker. Our skip got back on the horse, set his jaw and delivered a quality bowl that gave us six, good enough to win if Geraldine failed to demolish the whole shebang with her final bowl.
Time stood still. All other matches were over and the clubhouse was full of people waiting. Geraldine gave it her best shot but under pressure her bowl went wide, failed to connect with even one of ours so the six points stood. We had snatched V from the Js of D.
Once again, bowls, Australian Lawn Bowls, was the real winner.
1 comment:
Chris,
you are indeed a very strange, and somewhat weirdly talented man. I do however love reading the kiddy bits. Keep up the good work!!!
I particularly liked the little story about Marcus composing.Isobel does similar things with stories and makes up little songs. Ronan is very amused, but his artistic comment is limited to grunting, pointing, blowing raspberries and laughing.
Cheers,
Westralians
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