“Strike!” the screen flashed a fancy animation as the ball rammed into the pins scattering the formation to the ground. “Man, you are a game!” exclaimed Jay. I had scored the tenth strike in the row and was already feeling like Earl Anthony. I was just one strike away from the perfect game. I had to get the last one right. A million thoughts ran through my mind but only one echoed “Get the last one right”. It was a matter of seconds until I had the ball back in my hands. I was trying to think about my past throws and was wondering what made them tick. But I was having a tough time recollecting and playing out every throw in my mind. I had done something different every time the angle, the speed always had some sort of unique variation. I had to figure it out now, as the ball was in my hands, I had to get it right. One twenty seconds before the ball seemed like an extension of the arm but now it seemed to weigh a hundred ton, heavy with the burden of expectation all over it. The si