- November 18, 2024
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There are a few ingredients from the Palm Coast Lanes’ bowling recipe that can be construed as throwbacks. There’s the price — a dollar a game when I stopped in on Aug. 4. Then, there’s the clientele, most of whom were probably alive during whichever era we’re throwing back to. Finally, there’s 35-year-old wooden lanes, the oldest such boards in the state of Florida, according to acting manager Michelle Fieseler.
This week, though, they’re being yanked up and replaced with newer synthetic lanes. The renovation began on Aug. 11 and will completed by Aug. 17, if all goes according to plan, Fieseler said.
“The owners want to bring in more customers, rather than have everybody go to Ormond Beach,” she said.
Some bowlers, like Palm Coaster Henry Valentine, think the new lanes will bolster their scoring averages.
“All I can tell you is my scores are higher (on synthetic lanes),” Valentine said. “I see the floor better, and I’m definitely excited about it.”
Armed with the knowledge that the historic lumber was on its way out, I forked over $4 and change to roll a couple games. Ideally, I’d have called my great-uncle Freddie (who’s big cheese on the bowling scene here) to join me, but he’s still on the mend from a recent knee replacement.
I found a 14-pound ball with big-enough finger holes and set up at Lane No. 15. A group of seven seniors rolled on the lane to my right. It’s poetic that the gent manning the captain’s chair in front of the scoreboard terminal was a Navy man. His name was Tony, and he wore a blue Seabees hat, emblazoned with the motto “can do.”
I could do no wrong in my first few frames. Two spares to start off, and every roll struck the headpin right in the pocket. I don’t actually know how to bowl — I just start from the right-most guide arrow and throw it as hard as I can. Ideally, the ball backs up like a southpaw two-seam fastball.
In between rolls, I studied Tony. He has a tattoo of a lady swabbing a ship’s deck on his left forearm. He got inked in Pearl Harbor, while serving as Boatswain’s Mate on destroyers during the Vietnam War. Specifically, he served on DD-843, the USS Warrington, which ended up in the tumultuous Gulf of Tonkin at some point during the conflict. I became much more interested in his story than about bowling alone.
I rolled a 148 in the first game. By the second, I was exhausted, and my form fell apart — especially my approach. I noticed myself taking several little “Flintstones” steps instead of a few decisive strides. When I sat down for a breather, Tony chimed in.
“Can I show you something?” he asked. I agreed, readily, and before I knew it, we were standing together a few steps before the foul line. He mimicked a proper approach, how with each measured step your hands should be in concert as you draw the ball back. Then, he sat back down and observed as I spent the next few frames trying to put his lesson into practice.
I was just done, though. I rolled an anemic 98, and as I slumped back in my chair to unlace my rented size 11.5, polka-esque flats after a disappointing 10th frame (in which I rolled my only gutterball of the day), I looked up at Tony, longingly, for approval.
He just shook his head.
“You’re still not doing what I told you,” he said.
