True Story: My Mom, My Hero

My mom, among other things, was an avid adult league bowler; so as soon as we were old enough (I was 11 and my sister was 6 as I recall) she enrolled us in Saturday Morning League Bowling and we loved it! 

At the time of the incident that stands out most for me, I’d personally been bowling in the league for 6 years and our team was definitely a contender for championships.  Shortly after our seventh season began, one of our rival teams had some teammates quit, so they filled those slots with two of their cousins; one male and one female.  To say they were an unsavory bunch would be putting it mildly.  At any rate, she, the 15 year old diva, who I will politely refer to as the “Queen of Angst” was a trouble maker from the start.  We were made aware of her reputation by other teams that had run-ins with her but we hadn’t yet known the ‘pleasure’ of competing against their team and therefore didn’t have our own war story - but oooh our time was coming.

Enter the day in question.  After a grueling three games, the team my sister and I were on had managed to win two out of three games and were feeling pretty good about ourselves.  We were all gathering up our gear, switching from bowling shoes to street shoes, putting balls in bags, etc when I looked up and noticed that the ‘Queen of Angst’ was peering at me from behind a column chatting excitedly on a house phone.  I wondered briefly why she kept looking at me but mostly it was a mere blip on my radar.

I continued with my packing, socialized a bit more with our team and was finally heading toward the coaches table to pay our dues when I vaguely recall hearing a female voice say, “Yea, that’s her.”  Before I knew what was happening, the tallest, meanest looking man I’d ever seen was bearing down on me and screaming in my face.  Completely caught off guard and in shock, I could only make out half of what was being said but there were a few key threats that definitely stuck with me, like: “You didn’t think you could pick on my daughter and get away with it did you?” and “I’m here now! Now you can pick on somebody your own size” and “Get up in my face if you want to be all big and bad!”

All I could do was stare dumbly at this man.  I had no idea who he was or why he was attacking me; that is, until my gaze passed over one individual standing behind him, smirking and truly enjoying the show - the ‘Queen of Angst’!

My brain quickly assimilated the facts: the watching, the waiting, the phone call. This girl had set this beast of a man on me for her own amusement.  Well that was it!  The gloves were off!

I remember finally getting angry enough to yell something full of bravado and conviction at this man but I don’t remember exactly what, as I was terrified at the time, so I consulted my sister for the purposes of this story.  I figured she’d remember because that was about the time she was alerted by all our friends that I was being attacked and she came running to my rescue, wearing one shoe. (odd fact to remember but I swear its true.  She came to my aid in one shoe and one sock,  now that’s a sister who’s got your back!) 

But anyway, my sister says I yelled, and I quote: “You can’t threaten me!  I’m gonna call my mom!”

So take that, you big mean man!  I just now added that for effect, but I digress.  The man was stunned into silence for one brief moment by my shout and that was all the time I needed.  I squeezed out from between him and the counter he’d backed me up against, whipped out my cell phone and called my Mom.  I told her in a voice that was surprisingly shaky to me what had happened and her next four words had never been more reassuring.

And she was too.  A trip that should’ve taken her about 25-30 minutes, took less than 15.  And in that amount of time she’d managed to work up a righteous rage.  Meanwhile, back at the alley, the crowd that had gathered around us had caused enough of a scene that all the parties involved were herded into a back office behind the main desk.

So there we sat, the ‘Queen of Angst’, slightly less smug than before but still too smug for my liking; her father breathing heavily, looking very much like a bull in a ring; the coaches, forming a line between us, afraid at any moment this would get out of hand; my sister ready to pounce on the ‘bull’ if need be; and me, seething at the injustice of it all, shaking because I was half in shock that a grown man would threaten to kill me and I just plain wanted my Mom.

All the heads in the room snapped toward the door but my sisters and mine.  We just looked at each other in sheer anticipation.  We didn’t know exactly what was going to happen but we knew it was going to get ugly. The next thing we knew the door crashed in and there was my Mom in its wake.  (I swear she kicked it in ‘Dirty Harry’ style, all 5ft 1 inch of her, but that could’ve been my imagination.  All I know is, that door came shuddering in on its hinges and put a dent in the wall.)

I consulted with my sister about this part too.  She describes my mom in that moment as a “Mini Tornado” however; I’d liken her more to a “Valkyrie storming the battle ground.”  Suffice it to say, everyone in the room knew the situation had just undergone a drastic change. 

When my mom was through with them, the Coaches and Administration had their tails tucked between their legs for having let the situation go on so long and not having protected her children.  The father was meekly apologizing to my sister and me for having “overreacted” before he got the full story. (the ‘Queen of Angst’ had told him we threatened to beat her up after bowling.  Did I mention we’d NEVER had the ‘pleasure’ of actually talking to this girl….EVER?)  And the ‘Queen’ was in tears because her father had just ripped her a new one in front of all us for having made him look stupid by lying about me.

When the dust settled, my Mom gathered us up and escorted us from the building like our own personal bodyguard.  My Mom became my Hero in that moment.  I was vindicated and all was again right with the world.  Thanks, Mom