Dear Sunshine n Lollipops:
Here is a past bowling column that tells about a teammate -- a young bowler with lots of talent -- who quit the game because it was too easy.
Date: Thursday, July 9, 1998
Edition: All
Section: SPORTS
Page: 5C
Type: COLUMN
Column: Bowling
Source: BILL HERALD
[headline] AN OPEN LETTER TO K.C.
Following is an open letter to past teammate K.C. Wagner:
Dear K.C.:
In a way, it's sad that you again plan to walk away from the game, saying that you don't want to bowl at all in the upcoming season.
Though you came out of a self-imposed two-year "retirement'' last season, and though you captured high-average honors at 202-plus (in the Kaat Inc. Men's League at AMF Sarasota), you remain dissatisfied with the game as it currently exists.
You have always responded to challenges, and bowling provided a challenge. Or, at least, it used to provide a challenge.
Years ago, you worked hard to place yourself among the best, and you came close to achieving that goal. But now, you're walking away from bowling for the second time in the '90s.
In 1985-86, you attained a 200-plus average at Sarasota Lanes, joining Dave Musselman as the only bowlers to do so in the first 21 years the house was open.
In the early stages of your career, you carried a 122 average in junior competition, and you improved to 156 in your first attempt in men's league play at the age of 15.
Typically, some called you a sandbagger when you were young and struggling to improve . . . and then, a few
years later, after you achieved a 190-plus average, some of the same people said that you were too good for the competitive balance of handicap leagues.
With some people, you just can't win, but you were always a winner. Keep in mind that people who issue such labels are usually losers themselves.
The game can only be at a loss, because you aren't the only one disgusted with the avenue that bowling is taking.
Some people with only a fraction of your ability now match or easily surpass your scores. And partly for that reason, you've again lost interest in the game.
Others are now as accurate as you, though it's because they're getting an awful lot of help from
lane-dressing patterns.
I fully understand your attitude. You feel, as I do, that the game has been cheapened, and that high scores don't mean much anymore.
When former teammate John Snyder rolled a perfect game at Sarasota Lanes in 1980, it was the first in 18 full
years at that center.
Not too long ago, a woman rolled a 300 at Sarasota Lanes on a Thursday night, and the following evening, men rolled 300s on both first and second shifts. And a few weeks later, perfect games were rolled on three consecutive nights.
Are we the only ones who feel the way we do about the game? Of course not.
You were an instinctive player who made subtle adjustments at the release point to ensure a better shot.
There was a time when -- as a left-hander -- if you felt you were going to miss to the left, you could add a little extra lift to bring the ball to the pocket; likewise, you could take something off the ball to avoid a nosedive or crossover if you thought your armswing was going to bring the ball too far to the right.
No proprietor ever had to tell you, "K.C., you're not good enough to hit the pocket, so I'm going to set up the lanes to help you hit it.''
You have a God-given talent for the game, but you're not alone. It's tragic that so many other fine players of your generation sat out full seasons during the '90s . . . players who showed great potential as youngsters in the '60s and '70s, such as Ed Reid, Tom Deacy, Ron Elliott, Kevin Hoeppner, John Thompson, Tom Shinkle, Ricky Ramon, Terry Chancey, Steve McDaniel, Steve Moran, and many more. And some, such as Mike Healy, virtually gave up the game in their teen years, never to return.
The game can't afford to lose enthusiastic participants as you all once were. Hurry back.
