Let’s be honest. I wouldn’t recognize six current pro bowlers if they walked by wearing embroidered pastel shirts with butterfly collars.
Oh, I know the legends like Earl Anthony and Dick Weber. I even know that Weber’s son Pete is bowling’s answer to a trash-talking Chad Johnson.
But mention Doug Kent and I’m thinking Clark Kent’s long-lost nephew. And Mika Koivuniemi? Gotta be an NHL goalie, right? No wait… Olympic ski jumper?
Actually, they’re pro bowlers, and great ones, too. Headliners, in fact, at this week’s Masters tournament, which culminates on Sunday at Miller Park.
Bowling lanes at Miller Park? Even a bowling ignoramus like me has to be interested.
So I made a pilgrimage last week to the center of the bowling universe, which was actually pretty convenient, because it’s across the street from Southridge Mall in Greenfield. It’s the headquarters for the United States Bowling Congress, and besides having easy access to Boston Store, it’s got everything you need to know about the sport.
They can tell you that some 66 million people bowl at least once a year. And even though bowling league membership is down from a peak of 9 million in 1979-80 to just 2.6 million today, only soccer and softball have more participants.
The USBC, however, does more than crunch statistics. As bowling’s governing body, it does everything from marketing the sport (particularly among children) to organizing the sport’s Team USA (yes, there is one, and it’s the reigning world champ) to testing equipment (the lab is a cross between Bowlero Lanes and NASA).
But back to Miller Park, where you and I can watch the strike zone relocated to first base, temporary home of those new lanes. This Masters tournament is one of bowling’s four “majors,” so it features the best of the best. They held the finals at Miller Park in 2004 and 4,300 people went out to watch it. The USBC is hoping for a bigger crowd on Sunday, when the top four bowlers (culled from a field of 500) roll it out for a cool $100,000.
My money’s on Kent – the defending champion – and Mika – who just won the new season’s first tournament – to face off in the final.
I just hope I recognize them when it happens.
A Legend Rests
I never met Max McGee. Never had the pleasure of covering him or speaking with him. Never even watched him play, probably because those playing days ended four years before I was born. And because I’m new to Wisconsin, I didn’t get to enjoy his work as a broadcaster.
But like everyone else in this state, I’ve seen that marvelous grainy footage of him. And, like everyone else in this state, I’ve watched, read and listened to the flowing tributes over the last couple of days. And it turns out that I didn’t need to shake his hand to know what he stood for – the man’s reputation is that enduring. Moreover, it’s a reputation that will live on, not only in that grainy footage, but in his efforts to fight juvenile diabetes. So maybe I never met him, but I sure feel like I did.
Rest in peace, Max.
The Gift of Gwynn
With the Rockies getting eight days between clinching a berth in the World Series and actually playing in it, Denver’s sportswriters needed stories like South Park’s Kenny needs life insurance. The Denver Post’s Patrick Saunders came up with this gem about Tony Gwynn Jr., one of the many saviors who made Colorado’s playoff run possible.
Remember, the Rockies don’t make the one-game playoff against San Diego unless Milwaukee beats the Padres in those final two regular-season games. And the Brewers don’t win one of those games without Gwynn’s two-out, two-strike RBI triple against Trevor Hoffman.
It’s just one more not-so-insignificant piece that Colorado needed to make its ridiculously significant late-season run. For a good treatment on the history Colorado has made, check out Jayson Stark’s treatment on ESPN.com. The condensed version: A whole lot of things have to go right for a team to reach a World Series by winning 21 of 22 games.
Seriously, can you think of anyone who’s ever been on a streak like this where everything goes right? Besides, of course, Kevin Federline.
And Finally…
Think anyone outside of the Lake Erie basin is disappointed that Cleveland missed out on the World Series? Not the networks, now spared the specter of two small-market teams delivering low ratings. Not Milwaukee Magazine assistant editor Evan Solochek, a loyal citizen of Red Sox Nation who was poised to eat thumbtacks when the Sox were in that 3-1 hole.
But come to think of it, a few Clevelanders might not mind the result. Not the local psychotherapists, who just saw their patient load triple. And most of all, not the Cleveland Browns, because a Cleveland-Colorado World Series would’ve spawned too many flashbacks of John Elway, The Drive and The Fumble.
But you have to feel sympathy for a city so beleaguered that it prompted someone to start a blog called godhatesclevelandsports.
And pull up a stool to our Bar Time column.
