SPORTS > COLUMNISTS

		Rich Taylor

Okay, after all these years, I undoubtedly think I have this bowling thing figured out once and for all.

You wear an ugly silk shirt with a sponsor plastered on your back, knock ten pins down per frame, eat greasy food, drink endlessly and go home with indigestion. Nothing to it. Or so it seems.

Actually, bowling is quite appealing. You don't have to get up at the crack of dawn to get a lane, weather is not a factor and the only thing that's non-appealing is getting shoes that make you look like Bozo the Clown.

Not to mention the fact that 1,273 people ahead of me have worn the same shoes since the bowling alley opened ten years ago. I know this to be a fact because I received the same pair of shoes the last time I came. It still had that chili stain on the shoelace.

I decided to take up bowling because I don't have to walk twenty miles to look for a little white ball that I hit out of bounds for the seventh consecutive hole. Besides, my green plaid pants are way out of fashion.

It makes more sense to me to have a stupid looking shirt rather than dorky pants my kids laugh at, while telling me I resemble a character out of Caddyshack.

So, I nonchalantly snuck in one of those apparel department stores that have a clearance rack full of shirts no one would even fathom wearing. Best of all you can buy six for the price of one.

I surmised this must be where the bowling shirts are. Sure enough, there they were. Even the buttons were intact because no soul alive would dare venture toward the dressing room to try one on.

When you arrive home and your spouse doubles over in uncontrollable laughter you know you've purchased the perfect shirt that will fit in nicely with your multicolored shoes.

Now, obviously, if you're going to bowl you need a ball; not just any ball, but one that weighs six pounds, eight pounds, 10 pounds, 12 pounds or the weight of a side of beef.

I haven't got a clue on which one to use. Do heavier balls knock down more pins? If so, I'll take the heaviest one you've got, despite the fact that I need a forklift to get it over to my spot.

My next question: Why the three holes and not five? Must have something to do with the inventor of bowling getting confused after three holes and just calling it quits. Or it must have something to do with that thing-a-ma-jig that's supposed to dry your greasy hands from the french fries you ate.

Even though I dried my hands for what seemed like eternity, my ball looked oddly funny rolling down the lane with kethcup on it, leaving a trail that could line up the next shot.

After you bowl a few strikes, you feel powerful enough and have visions of joining a team, figuring these high rollers can'tbe that good, can they? Are they on the Professional Bowlers Tour? Hardly.

My answer came quite abruptly from a gray-haired gentleman who looked as if he'd been coming to the local alley since they had black and white TV.

"What's your average score?" he asked.

"Well," I began, "I shoot about a 190 with bumpers and a 150 without."

Maybe the key to bowling a 250 is to put some English on the ball, or spin as we call it outside the bowling community. I've seen many people do it. When my first attempt at putting some curve on the ball resulted in my shot landing six lanes to the left, I abandoned that notion.

On this particular day, I happened to bowl a 300. Yes, a 300. It took me four games to achieve it, but a 300-day is a 300-day no matter how you slice it.

I never managed to slide down the lane with the ball attached to my hand, nor did I damage the apparatus that cleans the pins like the ding-a-ling next to me.

My shirt stood out like a sore thumb, and the sweat stains were visible upon the completion of my games, so much so that my family slithered out the side door not wanting to acknowledge by presence.

Yea, I'll return so I can show off the sponsor on my back - The Knock 'em Dead Funeral Home - and remain incognito even though it looks like I'm a month early for Halloween.

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Rich Taylor Rich Taylor is the owner, head instructor and CEO of California Pitching Academy. He is a former pitching coach at Pepperdine University and Chicago White Sox scout. He founded the West Coast Baseball School. He has more than 20 years of youth coaching experience and wrote the book "Molding the Young Pitcher." His regular column appears twice a month. Send him an email.

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