The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-03-13

H. about the American Bowling Co
III the house that horses built at the
l am only one of 14,500 who a
whole exciting experience stirs me s
it. I won't start off by revealing my
ners, l am secretive or that subject L
Here's the way it happens. Chuck
Hardy comes around and asks me
if would like to go in the Con-
gress. I say, sure, but I am not
very lucky at politics" Chuck re-
plies that the Congress he is talking
about has to do with balls rather
than bills, and announces that he
is captain Of Claypool Hotel team.
I confess that my acquaintance
with the tenpins has not reached
the stage where 1 can call them
names if they refuse to fall for me,
but the captain persists, and wind
up at the Playground in company
with four other fellows.
WE are told to hustle to the
" paddock" and then I I'M
derstand why some writer's call it
the bowlers' rodeo. The paddock
occupies one corner of the big COW
barn, which is prettied up so that
it doesn't look bit like itself. In
this section, the bowlers peel clothes
to their shirt sleeves, and, if they do
not bring their own ball, select
spheriod from large rackful on
hand.
Next, we file through long aisle
only two lanes wide, on each side
Of which are men with scales who
weigh every ball. I turn. away
when mine is weighed, so I won't
see it. I figure I have enough wor-
ries without rejecting on how my
back will feel the next day.
NNCE through the aisle, we ar
" rive in another and smaller
paddock which is full of benches.
The room is damned with others
there for the same purpose. Some
are nervous just like they were going |
out to play a cornet solo instead of |
being one man of five on one of 80
alleys. They walk about aimlesSly; |
they stare dreamily; they talk in
low voices; their laughter is strained.
can't understand why they
should feel that way but am soon
to find out. Some one pins felt
badge with the numbers and 2 on
it on my back. I figure that must
be the way they tell the spectators
what kind of score I am expected
to roll. Later, I learn that they are
the numbers of my team and posi-
ton.
Promptly on starting time, we are
lined up in single file and march
through another narrow passage
way. Suddenly I come out into the
open smack into a sight so amazing
I nearly stop dead still. I catch my
breath, have a feeling that my
mouth has fallen open, and realize
dimly that others before me are
affected the same way.
We are on the scene of combat,
and the enormous grandeur, the
color-laden beauty, the perfect SYM
metry of it all stuns us.
We march in front of the bleach
ers, past alley after alley, cleaning
the reflection of softly shaded lights,
until we arrive at numbers 9 and
10. Applause comes from the
stands. The boys on MY team are
jittery and they're not trying to
hide it.
1 am not in the habit of working
up a frenzy, but 1 feel my tempera-
ture rising too high when suddenly
a gong sounds loudly and right
away I relax. I decide the gong
must be the officials way of assur-
ing us that, after all, we are only
amateurs competing on the Major
Bowls hour.
IT is the signal for each man to
IL take two practice shots, explains
Captain Hardy, and he proceeds to
do so. I follow suit, but don't do
so well; my shoulder seems tight,
and remember that I forgot my
push-ups the night before.
After all practice rolls are COM
pleted, bell rings and the pin boys
dump 10 shiny maple sticks on each
of 80 alleys simultaneously with a
sharp thud.
We're off! Time and time again
each of us sends the cannon ball
rumbling down the alleyways, and
with every toss the play becomes
more thrilling. 1t is easy to assure
bowlers who journey from the far
corners of the nation for these two
memorable hours they will not be
disappointed. Tt is an experience
that never will be forgotten.
NNLY one member of our team
" is rolling lower than 1 am, but
it doesn't chill his spirit. This is
the most fun I ever had in my life"
he says fervently.
Suddenly notice that the tenth
frame of my third game is being
posted on the huge scoreboards, and
I have a sinking feeling. It's all
over.
I want to go back again, but I've
had my whirl and must leave the
alleys to the pin pilgrims yet to
come If I never howl arair, chal1