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Do Not Let Your Left Hand Know What Your Right Hand Is Doing

This has absolutely nothing to do with Matthew 6:3.  But that 'left hand, right hand' thing is good advice if you are a bowler...

Wif, short for Wilfred, was a good friend and a wonderful guy.  He was a veteran, a successful dairy farmer, the chairman of the public school board for many years, president of our congregation for as long as I served there, known and well-respected throughout the state, a guy whose wisdom and guidance I truly appreciated, and appropriately nicknamed for someone who, in his day, was an amazing pitcher in fast pitch softball.  And...he could be mischievous.

My wife, Diane, is a lefty, and so I often take notice of students who write left-handed and tell them that my favorite person in the whole world is a lefty!

Over the years, Diane and I have participated in several church bowling leagues, and she is quite a good bowler.  When we bowled regularly together in couples leagues, Diane often carried a higher average than I did, steadily improving as a season went on.

One Sunday night our team was bowling against Wif's, and Diane had a very good first game.  The second game started out even better, but as she leaned over to pick up her ball from the ball return to start the third frame, Wif, who was sitting next to me at the scorer's table, asked me, "Does she always do that with her right hand when she releases the ball?"  You know, of course, that he said it just loud enough for Diane to hear him.

"What?  What am I doing with my right hand?"

"Oh, I'm sorry.  Forget I said anything; it's probably nothing...to worry about."

Diane looked at me, and I shrugged.  What could I say, the damage was already done.  Wif had sown the seeds of doubt.  "Go ahead, everything you're doing is fine." 

Wif and I both knew her next ball was going in the left side gutter.  Didn't even make it halfway down the lane.  Her second ball went cross alley and into the right-hand gutter.  When she sat down next to me, she asked, "What am I doing wrong with my right hand?"  Nothing I said could get her back on track, and the rest of that game was all open frames.  Most of the third game, too.

It was a terrible thing that Wif did.

A few years ago, I was golfing with several other guys in a church scramble.  We caught up to the foursome ahead of us on a hole where you teed off over a small lake.  The group ahead of us had a slight edge, so as the fist guy in that group took his practice swings, I asked Jeff who was standing next to me, "How can Tim make contact with the ball with his feet positioned like that?"

"I know what you mean - it beats me!" was Jeff's quick reply.

Tim stepped back from the ball and looked at us as if to ask, "What?"  We, of course, reassured him and told him not to worry...

Two guys sitting nearby in a row boat were scooping balls from the lake, and Tim so severely shanked his tee shot that he nearly picked one of them off.  Ruined the rest of his round.

Yes, it was a terrible thing to do.  Terrible...but necessary.

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