Anxious to attack the day, I bolted out my room at the early hour of 11:30 a.m., hoping to get some breakfast at the Chili Mac Diner. But apparently, you can only get eggs and not french toast or pancakes at that hour. So I had to settle for an early lunch of grilled chicken and fries. I wasn't willing to take a chance on the house specialty (chili over noodles), because the Bowling Hall of Fame was on the day's agenda, and I didn't want to foul up such a sacred place.
The International Bowling Museum and Hall of Fame shares a building with the far less impressive Cardinals Hall of Fame and is just a short walk away from Busch Stadium. The hall tracks the history of bowling, from ancient Egypt up to the present day, with interactive exhibits such as the pinboy scene shown above breaking up all the reading you have to do. But you'll find some exciting facts when you're reading.
This James does the same thing.
The Hall of Fame room is kind of confusing. Well, actually, it's Hall of Fame rooms, because first there's the Professional Bowlers Association (PBA) and Professional Women Bowlers Association (PWBA) room, with plaques of the inductees and a display of the twelve greatest moments in PBA history (go ahead, see if you can guess 'em). Since there was no one in the joint, I took my team reading the plaques and remembered watching many of the inductees on Saturday afternoons with my dad. I was a big Earl Anthony fan, mainly because he won a lot and that's what's most important to a kid. I actually met Earl Anthony once when I was a wee lad. Jealous?
There's also a computer display where you can look up information on Hall of Famers and the average Joes and Joannes that have bowled 300 games. I actually have a friend who's legitimately bowled several 300 games, so I looked up her name first. But then I wondered if maybe I had bowled a 300 game and forgot about it. Sure enough, I did.
My memory's still a little hazy, but computers don't lie. Clearly, I got waaaaaaaay hammered at college, hoofed it off to West Berlin, NJ, and bowled the 300. I'm sort of famous for doing things like that.
Anyway, after the first Hall of Fame room comes the American Bowling Congress Hall of Fame, which has cooler plaques that are more like the Cooperstown ones I'm used to. All hail Pete Weber!
Then there's the Women's International Bowling Congress (WIBC) Hall of Fame. I regret not taking pictures of this room. It was something. Dozens of oil paintings of hearty, fun-loving women lined the room, and I've decided that Floretta McCutcheon is my all-time favorite female bowler. And I wouldn't have even known about her if not for the Hall of Fame.
Finally, after the WIBC room, there's the Bowling Proprietors' Association of America (BPAA) Hall of Fame in the lobby. I have nothing exciting to say about that one.
At the end of the tour, you descend to the basement, where there are four lanes (and another four that are old and, I assume, unusable). See, with your admission, you get four free frames of bowling. They don't give you four free hacks at a baseball in Cooperstown. You don't get to lay down some hick-hop with Cowboy Troy when you finish touring the Country Music Hall of Fame. But, hot damn, you get four free frames at the bowling HOF. And you can finish the game for only $1 (rental shoes included). I wasn't sure I'd have time to bowl a full game and still get up to Vintage Vinyl to see an in-store performance by the Avett Brothers. But then my first four frames were so atrocious (I blame it on nerves) that I simply had to bring things back to something bordering on respectable.
Did I succeed? Well, let's just say I bowled between 100 and 200. And I got a free button proclaiming "I Bowled a Game at the Hall of Fame." So all's well that ends well. Get off my back.
NEXT: On to the music
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