We drove half an hour from Crookwell to Taralga for another twilight game on a Friday. Mal rang the club to put our names down but they said "Just turn up."
The drive out was good. They'd repaired a lot of the potholes but there were a few spots where half the road was missing. We were worried about coming back in the dark.
We were unimpressed that when we got there there were boys in Christmas shirts kicking footys on the green. Apparently they were there for a Christmas party. They turned out to be nice young blokes and became our cheer squad.
The folks at Crookwell told us we'd have a good time at Taralga. We got there at 5 and waited for the bowlers to arrive. We chatted with Bill, a former bowler who gave us all the stories. It seems all the bowlers had been to a punter's club do and weren't up to a game. Bill recommended we have a rollup.
We did. The green was patchy and super-slow
Jean didn't have the muscle for long ends. Still, we put down some good bowls and were soon noticed by the party boys who let out a huge cheer for every good one. It started out annoying but got to be fun.
Mal was called "Dad" and Jean "Mum". In the end "Dad" won by one shot (of course!). One of the boys came over and congratulated us on our great bowling. We didn't reaĺly like the music they played. A bit loud for us oldies.
We had a talk with Ken Croker (who was also impressed) about our trip. He seemed to like our idea.
Taralga - what a hoot!
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