Better pro bowling than the XFL.
Better a sport that, OK, is just barely a sport considering that overweight, elderly and maybe even the infirm and intoxicated can excel at it. But, hey, at least we can relate to bowlers.
Most of us have been bowlers ourselves–if you count kids’ birthday parties and that Friday night with friends several years ago in which you all swore each other to secrecy.
Some of our spouses even have owned their very own bowling shoes and personalized bowling balls at one time in their youth, a fact that is somewhat horrifying to discover after the marriage is legally binding. Just the same, it does bring the sport closer to home.
And don’t forget Chris Schenkel. Raise your hand if you’re older than 30 and didn’t hear his voice on the semi-regular Saturday afternoon when there wasn’t a good ballgame on one of the other two channels or it was raining outside.
Yep, you definitely can get behind bowling, which is precisely what the new hierarchy of the Professional Bowlers Association tour is counting on.
Trying desperately to reclaim a following that, all right, to be honest, has largely passed away, PBA chairman and former Microsoft whiz kid Chris Peters does not delude himself. Neither do PBA Commissioner Ian Hamilton and PBA President Steve Miller, both former Nike marketing execs.
“I feel like I have to say, `Hi, my name is Ian and I’m a bowler,'” said a joking Hamilton, whom the Microsofters hired to run the tour–operated since 1958 as a non-profit organization–when they took over last March.
Let’s face it, a sport that popularized buzz cuts and beer guts can be only so hip, though it does appear to be getting there if the recent fashion lines of bowling shoes and bags by the likes of such designers as DKNY, Prada and Kenneth Cole is any indication.
“It’s amazing, from a participatory standpoint, how many people bowl in this country, 50 to 60 million people every year,” Hamilton says. “It’s OK to bowl. Everyone admits it was a blast last time they did. And we need that to be the rallying cry for all of those people to come out of the closet.”
Mike Aulby, a 22-year tour veteran, is thrilled with the new ownership. It promises a new look with a formal season (September to March) for the first time and a regular TV slot on ESPN, a first since the tour left ABC four years ago.
“It’s fun to talk about again,” Aulby says. “Before, you were embarrassed, to a degree. Week to week, you didn’t know if it was our last.”
Hamilton says a lack of marketing was one reason the Pro Bowlers Tour fell off the radar and eventually got lost in the glut of cable sports.
He says fans have to be educated and admits every day he learns something new, such as why your neighbor can bowl 200 and a pro might win a tour event rolling a 205. (It’s because bowling center proprietors oil up the lanes, which raises scores, while the pros’ oil conditions are “the toughest to roll on in the world.”)
“I haven’t heard so much about oil since the Exxon Valdez,” Hamilton cracks.
He also wants us to be able to relate to the players, which means out with the Sansabelts and polyester golf shirts and instead, well, they’re not sure yet. But something cooler, they promise.
Pledging bigger purses and stock options to a group that had only six top $100,000 in prize money last year, Hamilton says they asked for only a few things in return, like players refraining from smoking or drinking in bowling centers.
“There are still a couple guys not too happy about that one,” Aulby says.
Hamilton also encourages bowlers to think of themselves as pro athletes like in any other sport, a hard sell given the Fred Flinstone stereotype.
“I’ve always felt there are different degrees of athletic ability,” Aulby says. “You can’t tell me Tony Siragusa isn’t as much an athlete as any quarterback. If you look at our younger guys, they’re much better at taking care of themselves. If you don’t, there are plenty of guys who are going to beat your brains in.”
You have to root for the pro bowlers’ rebirth, if not for their self-effacing humor, then for your own memories of a kinder, gentler time. Of manual scoring and pinball and that vending machine where you could buy a comb, a toothbrush or a mystery prize for 50 cents.
May bowlers once again find their niche.
And may they one day beat the XFL’s brains in.
