This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, February, 2019
January gave bowling fans more than anyone could reasonably request: four PBA Tour championships were won (five if you count both doubles partners, which I don’t), the telecasts on Fox and FS1 are getting unheard-of ratings and positive reviews, and of course the excitement of the silly season in which several players move from throwing the best equipment in the world to a new company with which they can throw the best equipment in the world.
Through all the excitement and qualifying, it’s hard to believe January actually happened, but it most certainly did.
So, with that all behind us, and already having received more than we could reasonably ask, we can focus on Big February, during which the PBA will give us four live telecasts, two of which are majors, with a chance to see someone win a million dollars if he can bowl a perfect game in the championship match.
These are the types of things we need to appreciate while they’re happening, as such wondrous times may never happen again. It’s hard to relish the moments, though, because something about bowling stops time while continuing to pass time. The moment is gone before we realize we’re in the moment, which is probably even harder for the bowlers working so hard to stay in the moment, trust the process and take it one shot at a time.
The shortest month of the year will feel even shorter the instant the first ball is rolled at the Tournament of Champions. Rather than measure the passage of time in minutes or hours, we begin measuring it in games bowled, made even more confusing by resetting the count at the beginning of each squad. By the end of the day, we’re flabbergasted; the day happened, yes, but we don’t remember any of it, all while remembering all of it. We know the leaderboard and where the bowlers were playing, but we have no idea if it’s Tuesday or Wednesday. In fact, it might be Thursday.
Soon enough, we’ve left Fairlawn and are still watching bowling, although now we’re in Columbus and the guy who won in Fairlawn isn’t doing so well. It’s weird because he was just dominating the entire field. What happened? It’s a week later, but only feels like two seconds. We’re aging rapidly without ever realizing it, expanding our brains with bowling stats but still failing to recognize the difference between morning and night because our minds can’t get away from wondering whether transition will hit B squad at the same time it hit A squad.
Time zones are irrelevant. Bowling renders them all the same. If traveling from the east to the west, we might get one morning in which it’s easier to wake up early, but the instant the first ball rolls cleanly through the heads, all time-related advantages are gone.
How does bowling have the power to make time pass quicker while also making it seem to pass slower? Why does a qualifying block appear as if it will never end, only to make us say, “That was fast” when the final shot of the round is rolled? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, what ball are you throwing? These are unanswerable, rhetorical questions that should never be asked.
Bowling has power over time. It paradoxically takes way too long to move way too quickly. We simply have to take a moment, which is either a half second or three eons or both, and appreciate it.