For the first time in more than six months, I sat at home all Monday night with absolutely nothing to do. Relatively speaking, of course, as the pile of neglected items in my "Adult Responsibility" category seemingly grows higher every day.

But how I squandered a Monday night or what aspects of my life I'm slacking on are not today's subject. No, today's subject is that great American sport, bowling.

Since sometime in September, I'd been participating in the Monday Night Owl League at the Clark Sports Center, which concluded April 10.

Every Monday night at 7 p.m. (excluding nights when I had to cover meetings or newsworthy events), I'd meet up with a group of approximately 24 guys and we'd roll balls down a slope trying to knock down the 10 pins. You get two chances to knock down all of the pins and the more often you do that, the higher your score is.

In a nutshell, that's it, that's bowling. A simple game meant to relieve one of our most basic of instincts: knocking things over.

While it is indeed simple in theory, in practice, bowling is far more complicated and frustrating.

A ball that was a perfect strike one roll - pins exploding at the end of the lane, crashing together in harmony creating a thunderous sound recognizable for miles - can be a perfect dud the very next, even if the release, spin and impact all appear identical. Often it seems more like the pins fall based on the Earth's rotation or the moon's impact on the tide than on skill.

This assertion isn't based on my own inability to knock down the pins with any regularity, but on my observation of multiple guys many years my senior who have been bowling for decades.

My technique is still developing (or so I hope) while almost everyone else in the league has spent years refining their craft. So when two seemingly identical throws from a long-time bowler results in different pin configurations, it really is perplexing.

And when it comes to their technique, these guys mean business.

From the way they stand or crouch precisely while lining up a shot, to the way they launch their bodies and bowling ball, to their follow-through on a throw and even to the manner in which they react to a solid hit or devastating split, a bowler's technique is finely-honed and minutely-arranged.

They're also as unique as the bowlers themselves.

Among the 30 or so different people I saw bowl during the season (including substitutes), none of them had even remotely similar characteristics. Even if there had been 1,000 different bowlers, I'm positive there would have been 1,000 unique techniques.

By the end of the season, I was having more fun watching how people bowled than I did actually bowling myself.

Not to pick up tips for improving my own inconsistent performance, but because frankly, a lot of it is pretty funny to watch.

Some guys swear, shake their heads, throw their hats or smile sarcastically in frustration when a decent-looking roll leaves a few pins standing.

Some write it off as having a bad night while others qualify it with statements like "this lane hates me." Which I would have written off as nonsense before the bowling season, but now accept as wisdom having used that excuse myself.

Reactions on good hits are even more amusing. Some fellas hoot, holler or pump their fists as the pins tumble before their masters. Some simply stride confidently back to the awaiting high-fives and congratulations.

While reactions to surefire strikes are funny, the antics following less-definite throws are hysterical.

A few guys kick out sharply before the ball hits, as if hoping to coerce the cosmic forces that govern pin action to give the pins a little nudge. Some guys shimmy - the only word that could describe this movement of the hips - to the side in an effort to persuade their ball to change course mid-roll.

But sadly, the season is over, and until the next one, I'm more apt to spend my Monday nights watching Judge Judy than I am watching people bowl. Perhaps I'll find somewhere to bowl these nights, just to work on my technique a bit.

After all, my game could certainly the extra kick.