quote:The league-night chorus of smashing pins diminished as other bowlers joined the crowd behind Morris resident Ron Gooch, who couldn't see the last 10 pins that separated him from the perfect game he'd spent 46 years chasing.Legally blind since childhood, Gooch, 52, had for decades found a refuge as a competitive bowler at Echo Lanes, a busy temple to the sport in far southwest suburban Morris. He'd already had a bit of luck in picking up strikes so, on Sept. 15, he kept his mind clear, placed his feet as usual on either side of the center guide dot on lane 17 and, without looking up, rolled a 12th and final strike."When it left my hand, it felt pretty good," he said. "And it (expletive) creamed (the pins). I said, 'Oh my God, I did it, I did it!'"Although technological improvements to bowling balls and lane surfaces have made bowling a 300 significantly easier, only 10 other legally blind bowlers are known to have rolled a perfect game in the U.S., according to a news database search and Wally Burmeister of Chicago, a records expert and chairman of the rules committee for the American Blind Bowlers Association.The figures are sketchy. For whatever reason, the U.S. Bowling Congress, whose comprehensive data reveal that the 1952 Borchardt's Food men's league team of Chicago had one of the highest winning percentages in USBC history or that in 1999 Kimmy Hucker, of Lake Villa, became one of the most-pregnant women ever (seven months along) to bowl a perfect game, doesn't track statistics for blind bowlers."It's really rare — oh yeah, it sure is," said Burmeister. "We've never had a 300 in our league."For Gooch, the moment has brought a small amount of unexpected fame. At last weekend's Grundy County Corn Festival, "people I didn't even know were coming up and shaking my hand," he said.Gooch was born with nystagmus — which means his eyes move involuntarily — leaving him with such blurred vision that he is legally blind, said his optometrist Dr. Timothy Ortiz, who was as impressed as anybody by his patient's accomplishment. "My wife said, 'How the hell did he do that?'" Ortiz said.He is not completely blind. What a person with standard vision can see from 200 feet away, Gooch can at best see from about 20 feet away. Trying to see down a 60-foot bowling lane "is like trying to look into a flashlight," Gooch says, so he positions himself using the lane markers.The bowling alley manager and two witnesses confirmed Gooch rolled a 300. The bowling alley has submitted documentation to the USBC so it will be recorded as a perfect game.Dale Gooch, 74, a now-retired lock and dam operator and bowler of local renown, began taking his son to Echo Lanes at age 6, hoping he'd take to a game where timing, technique and muscle memory can overcome poor eyesight. "I didn't want him to feel sorry for himself," he said.Taunted as the "blind b@stard" at school, Gooch found bowling to be a refuge. He started by keeping track of the $1 bets on his father's games but soon became the first Junior League bowler in his class to score 100."They didn't make fun of me at the bowling alley," Gooch said, recalling with joy how as a freshman he and a couple friends trounced the seniors on the Morris High School bowling squad.His first call after rolling the perfect game was an obvious one. "Dad, I did it," Gooch told his father above the buzz of voices around him. His mother Sharon Viano, 69, said she cried "happy tears" when she heard the news."I just lost it," she said. "I called everybody — California, Idaho, Florida, Arizona. It's been amazing — it's a big thing in town. People are saying, 'You must be a pretty proud mommy.' Well, yeah, but I'd be proud of him without the 300."The last two months have been good for Gooch. In August, he and his wife, Tammy, 40, who had been told they could not conceive, learned they were pregnant with their first child.Gooch saw fate at work when the obstetrician gave them a due date of March 24, the same day Gooch bowled a 299 in 2008. He bowled 11 consecutive strikes, but on his final attempt Gooch left one pin standing."I thought I had it, but it didn't go and the utter disappointment — I was so close," he said. "I thought, 'Man, this is a once in a lifetime thing' and then two years later it happens."While Gooch calls the last two months some of the best of his life, the last few years have been difficult. In 2006, Gooch, called "Tiny" by his friends, weighed almost 400 pounds, could barely bowl, and his family and friends worried he wouldn't live much longer. He opted to have gastric bypass surgery, lost nearly 200 pounds, then spent the last few years regaining his strength.While his bowling buddies are proud of his achievement, they are quick to point out it wasn't exactly a fluke — Gooch has played so long and so frequently that he carries about a 200 average."He's paid his dues," said Jim Tondini, a longtime friend who bowls with Gooch on the Clayton's Tap team and saw Gooch's perfect game. "He's carried around this burden for life, and he's adapted to it so well. You really wouldn't want to take your wallet and get to gambling with him at bowling or pool or cards."In fact, Gooch didn't stay long at Echo Lanes the night of his perfect game — he still had to make it to his pool league. He's not as skilled with a cue and, also being colorblind, needs help finding the balls on the table, but has won his share of games.After losing one game and being well on the way to losing another, a mystified billiards opponent once turned to Gooch's dad, wondering why his son kept asking where the eight ball was, both father and son recalled. His reaction to learning Gooch is legally blind still makes them laugh."You mean I'm losing to a (expletive) blind guy?"
