Bowling CLUB MATCHES

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XXVI, Issue 283, 13 November 1936, Page 12

Bowling CLUB MATCHES

Second Shield Round To-morrow NOTES AND COMMENTS (By “ Roamer. ”)■ Howlers again experienced excellent; cqnditipps for play last Saturday, and from all reports the ■greens were well patronised. As no Sftield matches were down to be played, plub games were indulged in, Tftp second round of the Shield cpippetition will be played to-uior-rpw. The Tonkin Tikis, have created a lot of interest among bowlers in the Various Hastings and Havelock North clubs, and Hall and Esson, after staving off eight challenges, went down by one point to Hampton and Claughton last week. It was a keenly-contested match, and thp standard of bowling throughout was of a high standard. Several challenges are already in this season. Veteran’s Birthday. Congratulations to T. J. Thompson on his 81st birthday. T. J. has been a keen member of the Hastings Club for a great many years, and in his prime was one of the hardest men to beat at the game. Although he may be termed a “veteran” now, he is still able to turn on a “thriller,” and is as keen as ever. All bowlers in the district will extend their congratulations to Mr. Thompson and trust that he will be spared to see many more years of bowling. Golfers at Bowls. The winner of the open golf championship dogs not disdain to try his hand at bowls. One day recently spectators peering over the fence on to the New Plymouth Bowling Club’s green were a trifle surprised to sea A, J. Shaw on The mat with J. Galloway, E. J. Moss, and H. J. and ft number of other golfers were interested onlookers. Saved His Bowls, An amusing story was told by Mr T. Herron (president) at the Phoenix Bowling Club’s jubilee reunion at Oamaru . recently, when reference was made to the destruction by fire of the club’s old pavilion. Mr Herron, who is also superintendent of the Oamaru Fire Brigade, recalled that at the time then, were several mysterious incendiary fires in Oamaru, fpur pavilions having been destroyed by fire. One night a pavilion was set on fire on no fewer than tEfe'e occasions. He was just returning from the fire at the Caledonian Society’s 1 pavilion, when he received the alarm about the Phoenix pavilion. He rushed on to the green, coupled up a hose, and played it on to his locker, which contained his bowls. Other members suggested that he should divert the stream of water to other parts of the building, but, said Mr Herron with a smile, “I just concentrated on my own locker, and I think I was the only one to get a decent set of bowls out of it. ’ ’ Incidentally, he mentioned that the bowls were used to-day by Mr A Slater. Scotsmen On the Green. An- old saw says that an Irishman Invented and introduced the bagpipes to Scotland, and that Scotty has not yet woko up to the joke. Another injustice to Scotland, states “Tee Bee” in ‘ ‘ Bowling, Life. ’ ’ However, seeing a joke and taking It are different. On the Victorian side I Jost an old Scotch bowling cobber because, being unable to tell me the difference between a Scotsman and a coconut, I had to tell him. “You can get a drink out of a coconut.” I am sure that he was not true to type. On our own green we have two sons Of the Hills and Heather who ban both take and crack a joke; one is as full of energy as a black ant on a hot stove, while the other is a picture of slow motion. I would not mention his name for worlds, except to say that if tradition be reliable, a namesake once slew a giant. Get an eye on this deservedly popular son of Scotia on the green. He ns reminded that it is shot, so he thereupon proceeds with stealth and determination to locate his bowl, which can be identified by the absence of identification marks. Having found it he rubs the dust off with his hands, licks his fingers, and takes his stance on the mat, and bending down takes aim and fires his bowl, which he follows through for a few yards, but whether half-way, on jack, or in the ditch, he keeps - his eye on it till it finishes its course, and a little longer for good measure. Meantime, his opponent on the mat awaits his return with more tolerance than patience. Finally this impertubable Scot, when the game is over wondered with unconscious naivete “why our rink Is always last out.” His popularity brings him much good-natured chaff. Another rather valuable chap whose patronymic indicates his ancestry, has never been accused of cracking a joke or suspected of seeing one. Ah! “but when he speaks the air. the chartered libertine, is still, and’ mute wonder lurketh in men’s ears to steal his sweet and honeyed phrases.” So, after all, he may be a son of the Green Isle and has kissed the Blarney Stone. , But who could fail to appreciate the remarks of a wee Scottish friend of mine in a distant club who, with a twinkle in his eye after much measuring, raises a hand and a half and calls “just the bare seven”; or when his third i 8 abpjifc inch abort kitty.

calls out—the twinkle still twinkling —“you want to be up when the shot’s against you.” And yet, through it all, he is as keen as a razor blade, and that’s the spirit that calls—keenness, and the spirit that can crack a joke, whether up or down, and laugh at misfortune. But how many of us can?