The Calculated Trick Shot

I set up three dried spruce cones right in front of the rusty iron cleat—a target range worthy of my precision. With the red-and-white bobber balanced in my wing, I squinted along the weathered pier plank, measuring the slant of the grain. An intentional obstacle, obviously! I wound up, dropped low, and sent the sphere hurtling across the timber with a sharp flick. It clattered loudly over the grooves, veered sideways at the last second, and tumbled one lone cone before wedging tightly under the dock bench. Flawless trajectory. Exactly the theatrical ricochet I had calculated from the start.