Open Mic: What's Good: The "Sport" Of Bowling, Or Why I Love Rolling (the) Rock

I leave for Detroit in about 10 hours. I'm going to pack up my bags, hang out with my girlfriend one more time, sleep on the bus home and then catch a ride with my good friend to Detroit.

Why?

A bowling tournament.

Quick: hold the face you just made and go check it in front of a mirror. Is it a look of shock? Perplexity? Downright mirth?

Tournaments can be held for anything from pool to horseshoes to competitive eating (speaking of which, congratulations to all the participants in the Nathan's Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest.) But just because it has a tournament, a trophy, and a winner doesn't mean it's a sport.

Bowling has all these elements. It also has a pro tour, a governing body (both internationally and in the U.S.), regulated equipment, a wide fan base, and is easy to play. Yet, people scoff when us rolling-rock kids contend that bowling belongs on the same perch as basketball, baseball, and your other well-recognized sports.

Unfortunately for all you naysayers, bowling is a sport.

More than just fooling around

This tournament I'm heading to is the USBC Junior Gold National Championships. Over 1700 youth bowlers from the age of 13 to 22 have been preparing since last August to bowl for $100,000 in scholarship money and a spot on Junior Team USA.

And a trophy, of course.

"But it's bowling," you say. "You pick up the ball and roll it. I could do this. Where do I sign up?"

Consider that an estimated 75 percent of the players (no, make that 85) at this tournament has rolled a 300. The perfect game. 12 strikes in 10 frames. In a sanctioned league, no less, while bowling in an alley filled with noisy kids, a smoky-bar, and bar-hoppers.

Don't forget about overpriced food and games if it's a Brunswick Zone.

Still think you can win this tournament?

All-around greats

Bowling has been around since who knows when. There are probably hieroglyphs of pharaohs rolling the heads of defeated enemies into their dismembered limbs, seeing as that's how every sport seems to have started. In those thousands of years, it has advanced technologically to the point where pinsetters are electronically-controlled, the oil machines are computer-controlled, and the balls are manufactured down to the tiniest detail.

It takes of years of lessons and practice (not to mention a good amount of money) to make it onto the PBA (Professional Bowling Association) Tour, and even then, the best can have a bad day and shoot 150.

"That sounds like a good score," you say. "I can barely make 100."

Well, the difference between Pete Weber's 150 and your 100 is that his might cost him $50,000. Yours only cost you three dollars.

Still think this is an easy game to play?

The best of the best

It's funny that everyone knows how hard it is to shoot a 300 or convert a 7-10 split, but no one thinks that bowling is a sport. Even if you do absolutely everything right on that perfect game or spare conversion, something could go wrong.

You could pull the ball at the bottom of the swing. Some overzealous fan could start cheering too early. A light could blink in your line of vision, and POOF! That perfect strike is a seven-count, and that 7-10 split is rolling down the gutter.

Simply put, bowling is a sport of mental toughness. One has to be able to rise above the small distractions, the aches and pains or the stigma of last week's loss. That, like any other sport, is what separates the best from the best.

Plus, pro bowlers aren't old, fat guys with tacky shirts and blue-and-red shoes. The Hall of Famers? Pete Weber has never tipped the scales at any more that 175 pounds. Norm Duke looks like one of Santa's Little Helpers, and Parker Bohn III resembles a sitcom dad from the '80s, not a man with over $2 million in career earnings.

Point is, these guys stay in shape and prepare week in and week out to be the absolute best they can be. Even if they aren't, so what? Albert Pujols doesn't get a hit every night.

Imagine...

So the next time you head up to the alley with your friends on a Friday night, imagine this scene.

The TV lights are blinding. The oil runs forty feet down the lane, and Pete Weber is up in the tenth. If he strikes out, you need to throw three in a row to beat him.

PDW, sunglasses hiding his eyes, takes three, four, five steps to the line and whips a tumbling ball down the lane. The eyes of the crowd follow it as it hangs right until three feet before the pins, until.....WHAM! A bone-rattling, fear-inducing strike.

Weber screams at the frothing audience, turns and stares you down, then raises his arms and gives you his patented "D-Generation-X" crotch chop.

"Suck it, bitch," he whispers to you as he walks back to his seat.

Now open your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to throw that strike.

Still think bowling is easy? Or is it what's really good?

Back on July 14th. Until then, keep waving the Pennant.