Mom and dad were always bowlers. The handful of trophies on top of the china cabinet and the bowling trophy clock on top of the TV console were glaring proof of that. So when I got big enough to roll that 6-pound, multi-colored bowling ball down the lane, I was introduced to the second sports love of my life. I remember that first lesson taught by the owner of our local, eight lane bowling alley Jim R.
There were probably about twenty of us watching and listening to our instructor. “Use these fingers in the ball”, “start with this foot during your approach”, and “slide on this foot”. All new concepts to most of the class. But I had been bowling in my living room for quite a while, using those plastic bowling balls and pins my brother and I had received from Santa the Christmas before. So when the time came for each of us to throw that first ball down the lane at the lone 5-pin, I was ready. But I missed. Wide right! That regulation lane was a lot longer than the lane in my dining room. I don’t remember how many if anyone got it their first attempt, a couple I think. I just know that I got it on my second. Darn proud I was! Was awarded a white, engraved with the bowling alley’s name, pencil for my accomplishment. “My first trophy!”
Those Saturday morning lessons turned into a league where everyone was placed on a team along with kids from the previous seasons. That season turned into the next years season, then another and another. Before long, I was 15 and had aged out of the league. So, I had to find another opportunity to bowl. I found that in a town just 20 to 25 miles down the road. Now this was before I could drive and my dad was at work hours before it was bowling time, so I had to find an alternate mode of transportation.
Bus! That’s right, the Greyhound bus stop, going south towards that bowling alley, had a stop just 100 yards from my front door. All I had to do was stand there on that corner with my $1.25 and wait for the bus to pick me up at about 10:00 am.
It took about an hour to go those 20 to 25 miles after a handful of stops for fellow commuters and the short quarter mile walk from the closest bus stop to the bowling alley front door. So now, I had approximately 2 hours before starting league bowling. What to do? I had lunch, was introduced to a “Roy Rogers” drink (Shirley Temple for a boy), and a search of the whole bowling alley to find that ball that would help me bowl well enough to make it all worth it. No problem! It was worth it! After bowling, Dad would pick me up on his way home from work at about 4:15pm. It was Saturday and he was there like clockwork. He never went home by way of “auto pilot” because he’d been doing that for years. He was always there. Just like my baseball games. I only bowled in this league for that one season.
I don’t remember how exactly I got into my first men’s league but I think it was an eight-week summer league that I bowled with dad, Harold B, Tim S, and a fifth person that I don’t remember. We only bowled together that one summer. Everyone went their separate ways. But Ed M. asked me if I would consider bowling the next season with the Natural Aggregates team with Keith, Roy, Larry and him. Ed had been an opponent during that summer league so I knew who he was. Of course it was a no brainer! They were an upper level team in that league. We had a lot of fun. But the house was having issues with new ownership. It wasn’t just our team or league either. The biggest mixed league, that had been there for years, decided to move to a new house. The whole league just up and left! Natural Aggregates moved to a new house too! As far as I know, it was just our team.
We were welcomed into the new house and league with open arms, but were warned to plan on second place because the champs from the last couple of years were expected to win it all again. Well, you know how well that sat with us. “Not so much!” By the end of the regular season, we were neck and neck. That left it up to the final night, position night! The winner of that nights head-to-head competition would be the season’s champs. We won the first game by just a handful of pins, but lost the second by about as many. It came down to the last game, actually the last couple of frames of that last game. When the dust settled and the scores were checked and rechecked, we had won it all by about 20 pins. I can’t tell you how great that drink tasted at that post-game celebration! I was too young to drink a beer with the rest of the team, so I settled for Coke.
We didn’t get a chance to repeat that championship as I had graduated from high school the summer before and I was expected to be drafted into the Army. Yes, there was a draft and yes, this was before the lottery took affect. I elected to follow in my dad’s footsteps and go into the U. S. Air Force instead. I enlisted a few weeks after that amazing night and received my draft notice while at the USAF Basic Training Center at Lackland A.F.B. Texas.