One of my Christmas gifts came early this year: I barely topped my arch nemesis — Special Olympics medalist and 24-year co-worker Byron Smith — at bowling on Tuesday.
Now if you ask Byron what happened, he’ll tell you a whole bunch of his friends and their guests got together for a friendly, but competitive, bowling match to celebrate the upcoming holidays. He’ll tell you he brought me as his guest, and that our team won its matchup.
He will tell you everyone had a blast, that it lasted a couple of hours, that there was a lot of food and fellowship, and that everyone left happy and everyone left as a winner. That is because Byron is a good person, a pure person, the kindest-hearted person I’ve ever met.
Now if you ask me what happened, I’ll tell you that I beat Byron in bowling. This is because I am not as good a person as Byron, and he has challenged me to a bowling match for years and laughed at the thought I might win, and because I’m still reeling from the charity Wii tournament we were in where he knocked me down three times in a boxing match.
However, I am going to put all that aside and tell you what really happened last Tuesday at Bowlarama Lanes, 2300 15th St.
What happened is that I beat Byron Smith at bowling. Wait, there I go again, let me start over.
What happened is that about a week earlier Byron walked into my office with a piece of paper on which someone had written, “Dec. 16, 2:15 p.m., bowling, one person.” Having worked with Byron for 24 years here, we can generally communicate fairly well despite my inability to grasp certain concepts at times.
I knew he wanted me to bowl with him on that date, and we figured out where I was supposed to go, but I wasn’t positive about why we were bowling.
The reason wasn’t important, I already knew I was going simply because Byron asked me to. Byron rarely asks for anything. He sometimes tells me things, like chastising me for putting empty Diet Coke cans in my trash can. I’ve denied knowledge of it for years, pointing fingers at reporters, but he knows me well.
When I arrived at the bowling alley, there was Byron, standing at the top of the front steps waiting for me, waving me down as if I am such a dolt that I wouldn’t find the place. Like I said, he knows me well.
Walking in, I was taken aback. The bowling alley had been reserved for the afternoon and it turned out to be the first Pinspinners Family Tournament in honor of local folks with special needs and disabilities who gather each week to bowl together.
Inside we found dozens of special athletes and their families and friends, along with organizers and lots of food and a buzz of excitement. I learned that each participant was allowed to pick one person from their friends, family or community to be their partner for this tournament and Byron had chosen me.
As that dawned on me, Byron saw it dawn on me and smiled that smile that only he can smile, and gave me a hug, saying, “You’re my friend. You’re No. 1.” Hundreds of people have heard that from Byron.
Wow.
As we readied ourselves, I put on a pair of shoes and Byron polished up his official FSU Seminoles bowling ball, and we visited with some familiar faces, like retired Circuit Court Judge Don T. Sirmons. “You picked him, Byron?” he asked jokingly. Byron smiled.
“It’s Sheriff Frank,” Byron whispered to me, looking toward a pod of people near us.
And it was Frank McKeithen, with Public Information Officer Ruth Corley and Sgt. Mark Tochterman in tow. And it obviously wasn’t his first trip to the rodeo as he was deluged in bowlers who remembered him from other events of theirs he had attended.
When the dust settled, I actually hadn’t noticed that I had knocked down about 8 more pins than Byron; he told me.
“You did good!” he said. “We’re a good team, we won!”
Any team with Byron on it is a good one, and I was grateful to be on his that day.
Merry Christmas.