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Growing Up With Bowling

We’ve had a couple of blogs about bowling (see “But They Couldn’t Save the Bowling Alley” and
“Let’s Go Bowling”
), but since bowling is such a part of pop culture, I thought I’d give you my spin on it.

I was almost born in a bowling alley. My parents bowled on a league and my mother bowled right up until I was born. I remember spending much of my childhood in the bowling childcare center (why don’t they do that anymore?). Once I got old enough, of course, I was set loose with nickels (yes, nickels) in the game room and was on my way to becoming a pinball queen. I never really cared about bowling much until my mother died. She and my dad were still on a league and he needed a partner, so I started bowling at the ripe old age of 19. I was terrible at first, just terrible. My father was always a good bowler, averaging in the high 170s. I was please when I broke 100.

The summer after my mom died, I got a part-time job at the bowling alley snack bar. One of the perks of working at the bowling alley was that you got three free games a day, whether you worked or not. And, the games accumulated. That summer, my father decided to teach me to bowl. Oh, we fought like cats and dogs the first month. I was happy with my backup ball. After all, I had upped my league average to a respectable 125, but he wanted me to throw the normal way. For those that don’t know what a backup ball is, it is a right hander throwing the ball and having it hit the pocket like a lefty is throwing it. I finally started throwing normally. It seemed he had constant corrections – my backhand was too low, I wasn’t following through, my throws weren’t consistent, I wasn’t taking enough steps.

I bowled and bowled and bowled that summer. I guess the sorrow of missing my mother was affecting both of us, so we joined two leagues. At one point, I was practicing so much during the week, the skin came off my thumb and I had to bowl left handed in the leagues for a week. Slowly, I got better. I started realizing that everything my father said was true. I eventually went on to have the high average in the league (165), but my proudest moment was my highest game. My boyfriend and I had just joined a league with another friend in a bowling alley I had never bowled at before. My first game, first frame, I threw a strike. Good start, I thought. Second frame, I threw another strike. The third frame, another one. I had what was known as a turkey. By the time I threw a strike in the fourth frame, I was wondering what was going on. I went on to throw a strike in every frame up to the 10th. Going into the 10th frame, my 15-pound ball started feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. I turned around before I got up on the lane and saw that the entire bowling alley was behind me. No one else was bowling. I got up and threw, praying I wouldn’t gutter the ball. I cannot remember exactly what I got – I think it was a six. I picked that up then got a few more pins in the extra frame. I finished with a 275. I was wearing my mother’s twenty-year-old bowling shoes for good luck – something I always did when bowling.

I love bowling. I miss not being able to bowl now because I have a baby. It makes me sad that people don’t seem to be interested in bowling anymore and that even the Pro Bowler’s Association has to struggle to keep people interested. My only hope is that one day, everyone will realize what a great game bowling is again.

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About Libby Pelham

I have always loved to write and Families.com gives me the opportunity to share my passion for writing with others. I work full-time as a web developer at UTHSC and most of my other time is spent with my son (born 2004). I love everything pop culture, but also enjoy writing about green living (it has opened my eyes to many things!) and health (got to worry about that as you get older!).