Pun Alley 2-3-2012

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Here are some super bowling (not football) stories

By Dick Frank

Last week I wrote how I got shanghaied and wound up in Tampa at the Gasparilla Pirate Fest. They didn’t release me until it was too late to write this week’s column; but they did allow me one telephone call. I called an acquaintance, recently arrived from England, who I asked to write about Sunday’s Super Bowl.
The opening words of his submission were, “I don’t know much about sports in the U.S., but I guess the Super Bowl must be about bowlers all trying to score 300.” The rest of his writing follows.

No strikes
Bob and Tony were bagging their balls after a night at the alley. Bob said, “I’d love to be a professional bowler in the worst way!”
Tony replied, “Quit now. You’re almost there.”
Later, Bob went back alone to practice his game. While he was there, a man ambled over with a soda and watched him play. Unnerved, Bob threw several gutter balls. Finally, he walked over to the man and said, “Listen, only bowlers are allowed on the lane proper.”
The man replied, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

The wife scores
“Damn,” Scott complained to a friend, “one of the guys on my league team just ran off with my wife.”
“Don’t worry,” said the friend. “You’ll find someone else.”
“With a 255 average?”

Bar none
Once a year, New York’s championship bowling team went to Chicago for a national playoff. On the night before the game, Harry, the team leader went to a bar where he struck up a conversation with a man on the stool beside him.
The men had a great time and agreed to meet in the same place the night before the next tournament.
The year passed, and though Harry didn’t expect the man to be at the bar, he went anyway. Much to his delight, the man was sitting there, waiting.
I can’t believe it,” Harry cried, pumping the man’s hand. “You remembered! You came back!”
“Back?” the man said. “Who left?”

Left for an alley
The young wife weepingly told her friend that her husband had walked out on her after a quarrel.
“Oh, don’t let it upset you. Men often do that sort of thing. He’ll be back,” assured her friend.
“No, he won’t,” wailed the wife. “I can tell. He took his bowling ball with him.”

The man had a splitting headache and went to the bowling alley. His doctor had told him to go and rest someplace where he could hear a pin drop.
Two women were returning from their first attempt at bowling. The husband of one, an inveterate golfer, asked with a raised eyebrow: “How’d you make out?”
“Well,” she said, “at least we didn’t lose any balls.”
When bowling, you don’t have to join the union to strike.
At the annual tournament played in Jacksonville they don’t use pins. They use alligators. You’ve heard, surely, of the Gator Bowl.
Stephen walked in the door, so elated he could barely speak.
“Honey, guess what? I came the closest I’ve ever come to bowling a perfect 300 game!”
“Really?” she said. “What’d you get?”
He replied, “A seventy-three.”
Getting strikes is like lining up a great date; you need a smooth approach and terrific follow through.
If you don’t knock all the pins down on the first ball, please spare me the details.
Murray walked into the house, dejected. “The orthopedist says I can’t bowl,” he told his wife.
“Oh,” she replied, “he’s seen you play?”

Young bowler
Biff and his son walked up to the counter in the bowling shop.
“I’d like a ball for my boy,” he said.
The clerk looked at the youth. “Sorry,” he said. “We don’t do trade-ins.”

Rushin’ away
Keith called his bowling partner to withdraw from their Tuesday night bowling league.
His partner inquired why after many years would he resign.
“My wife and I are taking Russian lessons. The only available evening for both of us is Tuesday,” Keith told him.
“Does this have anything to do with the little Russian baby you have just adopted?” his partner asked.
“Yes it most certainly does,” Keith replied, “We want to do everything right for this child so we’re learning to speak Russian so when the child starts to talk we will understand what he says.”

Dick and his wife Jane live in Oak Run.