Nothing I love more than a punk getting punked - especially by folks my age. And this reporter gets it right.
Here are some of my favorite lines from the article with my own commentary in dago type:
"It turned out to be Pound-A-Punk day Wednesday"
It is always the perfect day to "pound a punk." Having sixteen pound balls at the ready helps.
"The women, along with other bowlers from the senior league, blocked the 16-year-old's escape through an exit on the building's west side. When he ran toward the glass doors at the building's front, league members were in hot and loud pursuit."
Just how I like my broads: hot and loud. Man, I would love to have seen this punk go down. I'll bet my 7-10 split there were a few veterans of the Big One in on that magnificent operation.
"Several of the senior bowlers dog-piled the teen and held him until police arrived."
Dog piled! Can you picture this? Friggin dog piled! Troops, you can't make this you-know-what up.
"Johnson said the youth told police he steeled his nerves for the caper by drinking a beer and some Robitussin cough medicine a few minutes beforehand."
Dumb assed kids today can't even figure out how to get "liquid courage." Cough medicine! Western civilization is doomed.
That is damned good advice. You do not want to screw with a bowler - especially an old one. Bowling is the only sport where you can be fat like a pig, smoke like a chimney, drink like a fish, curse like a sailor, and dress like a district president - and still be considered an "athlete." But never underestimate what a bunch of pickled seniors with funny shoes can do to a teen aged purse thief. Now you know.
Way to pick up the spare, boys and girls. Let's hope more of these incidents happen in the future. I love a happy ending. I guess I'm getting sentimental in my dotage.
