Frame Perfect

The crowd grew silent. It was the dream outcome, the impossibility, yet it had unfolded right in front of the incredulous audience's eyes. A regional tournament, no less, and thankfully, no more, for it would have been a scandal that would probably take years to shake off.

Jonathan and Xavier, two of the region's best bowlers, head to head, with twelve perfect strikes in a row, not in a tournament season, but right at the play-offs itself, at the same place, at the same time. A statistically near-improbable result, no less.

The judges for the tournament had taken a time out to discuss the matter on how to determine the ultimate winner. The rule books were thorough but unexhaustive---there was no rule for dealing with perfect games at the same-day tournament. When they returned, they had decided on a ``sudden death'' formula for tie-breaking. Each bowler would be given a new rack of ten pins, and they will take turns to clear them. The first to clear more pins in the same number of bowls wins.

Jonathan had bowled before Xavier, and so this time, the latter started first. The silent crowd watched as Xavier picked up his thirteen pounder with his left hand, holding it close to his face as he concentrated on the racked pins in front of him. With three steps, he let loose the ball, which slid a fair way before rolling and curling towards the lead pin, knocking the entire triangle of ten down.

``Strike!'' The crowd grew wild. Yet another strike. Would Jonathan equalise?

The lane cleared itself of the pins and a new rack of ten emerged. Jonathan popped his neck and stepped up to the ball carousel and picked up his twelve pound ball with his right hand. Like Xavier, he brought it close to his face as he arched his back slowly. Taking four bold steps forward, he unrolled his hand like a spring and unleashed his bowling ball. It flew forward and barely grazed the gutter before seemingly grip the smooth surface and rolling surely towards the lead pin, clearing the entire rack as well.

``Strike! Equalise! Next frame!''

The crowd gasped collectively. The pressure was back on Xavier to push for a win. A new rack of pins appeared on the lane, and Xavier picked up his ball once more. Like before, he took three steps forward before rolling his thirteen pounder down the lane in a sure and true trajectory.

``Strike!''

Jonathan stared at the crowd, bemused. Many of them had their mouths agape---they could not tell if it was truly a miracle or a rigged match. Silently though, Jonathan was rather astonished at the relative consistency in which he and Xavier were scoring strikes. He let that thought slide back to the rear of his mind and picked up his ball and bowled, scoring yet another strike.

This went on for the next three frames.

By now, the crowd was starting to get antsy, unsure of what it is they were witnessing. The tournament officials were puzzled and were starting to suspect foul play. Xavier was up, and Jonathan could see that he too was sweating.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 25-Feb-2014 23:51:32)