Inside Information

There's a gyroscope in the core; there are memories in the muscles

Aug 21, 2021

Earlier this year, I mentioned that I would be eventually writing “about how we function during a pandemic, and how that connects in my mind with ‘heuristics.’” Oddly, not a single reader has contacted me to say “Hey, what were you going to say about heuristics?”

I do have a network of readers, though, who supply me with snippets of bowling news they happen to see. A lot of people saw the news out of Michigan last month that during the renovation of a house a guy discovered more than 150 bowling balls had been buried under the concrete foundation of the back porch. Most likely, they were rejects from the nearby Brunswick manufacturer, used for fill, according to a story in the New York Daily News.

More recently, some people called my attention to a feature in Popular Science that discussed the “surprisingly complex” technology of the modern bowling ball. There’s a big difference between the cheap plastic “house balls” supplied by the bowling alley and, for example, the 15-pound Hammer Scandal that I sometimes use.

Or, that I used to use. It’s been a year and a half since I was out there. I probably would have gone back to it this summer, but then the ol’ Delta variant came along. People ask me: Don’t you miss bowling? The answer isn’t a simple yes or no. I’ve had sports fade out of my life before. I spent so much time as a boy swinging a baseball bat, and once in a while connecting with a hardball just right. . . At odd moments I will imagine myself even now in slow motion, swinging as the ball comes over the plate, feeling that fleeting satisfaction of hitting it on the barrel of the bat, watching it take off toward the outfield. I mean, really feeling the sensation again. Like it got embedded in my muscles and nerve endings and never left. Same with draining a jumpshot on the basketball court. Or hitting a tennis ball on the sweet spot of the racket and seeing it go just over the net and right down the line.

I haven’t played real baseball for decades. I more or less retired from basketball after my then-sixteen-year-old nephew defeated me for the first time in one-on-one. Right after that, I took up tennis, thinking you can stay with that as an aging athlete. But I haven’t played tennis in the last couple of years, either. I miss all those physical sensations, I guess. But competitive sports are for young bodies. I heard on the radio the other day about a former star pole vaulter who’s decided to take it up again at age 75. He’s still hooked on the feeling of clearing that bar, I would guess. Still, that seems like a bad idea.

Anyway, I do plan to get back to the lanes. When that Popular Science article was circulating, I got a note from my friend George S., who wrote: “I’ll bet you have one of these pro bowling balls, which is why you beat us so handily that day at Lanes and Games (of blessed memory).” One? I clarified to George that, in fact, I have several. (The current arsenal is at six.) But that blessed day is something I neglected to boast about in my recent Dots & Arrows headlined “Bowled Over.” I’ve written several times about the Last Days of Lanes & Games, but how about that time when our beloved Baffler managing editor Lindsey G. was leaving for Washington D.C., and I prevailed upon her and her partner Josh to meet with me and one of the nation’s premier literary critics (that would be George) to roll a few games at the homey, dingy, orange-carpeted, late lamented establishment that used to grace the old Concord Turnpike?

Now, if you ask me if I miss moments like that, the answer is yes. Yes I do.

Strings attached

In the above-mentioned newsletter, I also discussed (in the context of “neoliberalism”) the decision by Malden’s Townline Luxury Lanes to change over to “string pinsetters.” A couple of readers felt mystified. What the hell are string pinsetters? How do they work? Here’s a promotional video with a not-impressive dude in a cowboy hat that is meant to . . . I don’t know . . . make this labor-saving technology seem like it’s fit for a spaghetti western?

It’s obvious that the pins can never behave exactly the same when they’ve got strings hanging on them. The United States Bowling Congress is studying the effects and has issued a preliminary study. The upshot of their lane testing, after 45,000 shots on both the free-fall pins and the pins with strings attached, is that “string pinsetter pinfall is statistically different overall compared to traditional free-fall pinsetters.” And the difference in their testing was that there were almost seven percent fewer strikes on the string pins. Hmmmm. . .

Anniversaries

How often do you come across something on social media that directly affects your life? It happened to me the other day. I saw this useful Public Service Announcement on Twitter.

Mark Steven @multimimetica

PSA for those also planning to synchronize with Uwe Johnson’s Anniversaries: you now have three days to source a copy, or else wait it out for another year.

Right then and there I decided I would synchronize, since I don’t have to “source a copy”—we have one. Johnson’s masterwork, subtitled From a Year in the Life of Gesine Cresspahl, begins with a diary entry of August 21, 1967. I shall start reading tomorrow!

If you want to get a sense of what it’s all about, The Baffler published a memorable essay by Rod Davis two years ago, in which he said “Johnson’s tour-de-force variously reads like a witty, flinty New York diary, a definitive history, and a Cold War intrigue worthy of John le Carré.”

It went without notice, but August 13 was the fourth anniversary of the last day at Lanes & Games Lanes (and Games). I was there for the final hours, enjoying the fine food and drink with my no-longer-sixteen-year-old nephew. I took the photo at the very top of this column just before midnight. The sound system was blasting ELO’s “Showdown,” which of course plays during the climactic scene in Kingpin, as Roy Munson faces off with Big Ern McCracken for all the marbles.

We had some moments like this during the heyday of the Above Average Bowlers’ League (AABL). But without anything quite like Bill Murray’s out-of-control combover. If there are any bowling alleys left by next August 13—and if a few million more Americans wise up and get vaccinated so we can put this pandemic behind us—maybe we’ll get some of the AABL stars and stalwarts together for a five-year anniversary wake/ bowling party.

Maybe we can choose a more hopeful theme song than ELO’s “Showdown.”