Bowling at the bottom of the world

I have never pictured myself as the bowling league type... bright bowling shirt with "Big Al" embroidered under the left shoulder, a wrist guard, my own bowling shoes, and a sizeable gut to fit the part. Yeah, all that mixed with stale alley smoke don't exactly excite me, but as soon as I heard there was a bowling league down here I said two things. First of all, "Ha ha, I'm not falling for that one." And second, "I'm in!" A couple buddies that live in my dorm had scouted a few guys that might fit into a "non bowler" overly-serious attitude but would be decent bowlers. I apparently fit into that group. So me, Barry (an Aussie), Al (a Kiwi), and Matt decided that we would win the fun game each week, and we tore it up in that bracket. Much to our surprise we also tore it up in the total pinfall column. Out of 30 teams we got into the top eight and lost by eight pins to the number one seed. What a blast! As you can see, the alley is two lanes. There are only a few pairs of shoes, you score your own game, it is in an old metal shack not much wider than the lanes, and two pinsetters work for tips scrambling to keep up with your desired pace. I think it's crazy that of all places I joined a bowling league it was here in Antarctica. It was one of my favorite activities of every week.