When Bowling is More than a Game

I attended the Special Olympics to watch two young women compete in the bowling tournament. I had a great time and would go as far as saying that the experience was quite enlightening to me. From the moment I walked in the door I knew it was going to be a great day. Everyone was excited. Participants were waving and talking to their peers and to people that they had never met—like me. Volunteers were helping with everything from tying shoes to pushing wheelchair bound participants to their lanes.
After the opening ceremony, the participants roared and clapped with excitement. The games had officially begun. I watched as many lanes as I could see and observed the dynamics surrounding each team assigned to those lanes. I think the greatest thing that I saw was that in this setting, they all felt empowered, important, and that they were a part of a special group. They weren’t a group of people who were being looked at for what they couldn’t do, we had gathered to see a group of people compete in a bowling tournament. Today, they were the majority…I was the minority. As I looked down at the lanes I noticed that they were using different techniques to get the ball down the lane. Some were using arrows etched in the flooring as a guide to hit the pin they were trying to knock down, others squatted down and released the ball, there were those who seemed to have a natural flow—they just let the ball go and it glided down the lane to the intended destination, a lot of the bowlers spread their legs and used both hands to roll the ball down the lane, and there were a few, especially those using crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs, who used a special assistive device that allowed them to prop the ball up, line the apparatus up with the pins and push the ball with little or no difficulty. The lesson here is simple. There are many ways to reach your goal. If one doesn’t work, try another.
It seemed that each bowler understood the rules of the game and showed respect for their peers by waiting patiently for them to release their ball before releasing their own. Wait your turn. It’s a basic rule, but sometimes we seem to forget it. I also noticed that the players seemed to be genuinely interested in helping each other. Although it was a competition, they were rooting for one another. They cheered every strike, high fived when an opponent picked up a spare, and patted those on the back who couldn’t seem to keep the ball from going into the gutter. They recognized that even in a competition it’s important to be a good sport. I believe those pats on the back and words of encouragement helped ease the frustrations of a lot of players out there. It was great to see someone who wasn’t doing as well as the others finally bowl a strike and return to a bunch of high fives, applause, and thumbs up. I saw quite a few bowlers today that were either bowling for years or born with a special talent for knockin’ em down. It seemed that almost every ball that they sent down the lane had a magnetic attraction to those pins. But notice that I said “almost every ball.” That’s because every once in a while they’d do the improbable—roll a ball straight down the gutter or barely knock over one pin. Great players throw gutter balls too. Everyone makes mistakes, and there is always room for improvement. Although we should strive for perfection, we have to recognize progress.
At the end of the competition, each bowler made their way to a special seating area that had been set up to celebrate both individual and team success. They were so proud to be seated in the special section. They knew that it was an honor to be honored. All too often we wait for the “ultimate” accomplishment before we celebrate ourselves or tell others how proud we are of them. Unfortunately, we miss the obvious opportunities to tell people how important they are, how much they mean to us, and how their life is making a difference in ours. But I digress…there was a podium equipped with first, second, and third place blocks. There were bunches of balloons and most importantly, there were ribbons with varying colors signifying first through fourth place. I watched a young man jump out of his seat and run to the podium to accept his ribbon. The crowd cheered, his parents shouted his name and his smile extended the entire width of his face. He had trouble standing still because he was so excited. He couldn’t believe that he had taken fourth place. For him, he had achieved something beyond what he thought possible. Today I learned that sometimes fourth place means just as much as first place.
I was famished and the smell of fries and pizza had finally got the best of me. So before leaving, I decided to take on the snack bar. I ordered a hot dog (thinking “what could possibly go wrong with a simple hot dog”)and a soda. As I took the first bite of the hot dog, I looked up to see a woman walk by wearing a t-shirt that said “Label jars, not people.” I smiled and she waved. I took a sip of soda and reluctantly bit another piece of my hot dog as I thought to myself “even the Special Olympics can’t make the food at the bowling alley taste any better.