Dodging the Duckpins

Much as I love the folks I work with, I always find a way to duck the annual office bowling party. Duck is the operative word here. These aren't Big Labowski bowling bashes (and no White Russians participate, either.) They are held -- in classic, old Baltimore style -- at a neighborhood alley in Highlandtown known as Patterson Bowling Center.

They roll duckpins. That's right, duckpins. A version developed here in Maryland that remains a part of our heritage. Little bitty balls on one end and dinky, spindly pins on the other. Between the two are wide gutters where my balls seek refuge almost as soon as they leave my hand.

In fairness, I'm not much better at tenpins (big balls, bigger pins, same gutters.) Some hand eye coordination is definitely missing. But chasing duckpins -- three balls at time -- is painfully humiliating, particularly in front of one's colleagues.

Since I can't relate the delightful experience, fun and comraderie that these bowling outings provide (and everyone has a good time) I can tell you this history of duckpins and its unique ties to Maryland, and the Baltimore Orioles of all things.

Around the turn of the century, the old Baltimore Orioles had a player named John McGraw -- who would later enjoy great fame managing the New York Giants.  He and a teammate owned Diamond Alleys on Howard Street. One of the oddball games played at the time involved small balls that were used to pick off specific tenpin pattterns.

Someone suggested it might be challenging to use the small balls on a set of small pins. So they took a set of tenpins to a local woodturner, who produced a mini version. When the ball hit them, they scattered in all directions. McGraw, who also enjoyed hunting, likened them to a flock of ducks.

So it was here in Baltimore "duckpins" was born. It became a popular pastime as leagues were developed and entire social orders were built around the teams and tournaments. 

Does anyone else remember Stu Kerr and "Duckpins for Dollars"? That was a local TV show where local bowlers competed on the air for cash prizes. It was popular when I was growing up and only added to my teenage angst that I could never get the ball anywhere near those little pins.  I mean if housewives from Hampden could do it, why was I such an awkward klutz?

(Bowling was the rage among my junior high classmates in Laurel. Trust me, acne is not the worst experience of adolescence.  I still have nightmares about those Sunday afternoons at Fairlanes.)

Duckpin bowling has since declined as a mainstream form of the sport. But here in Maryland, particularly in Baltimore, it is a cherished part of our history. Patterson Bowling Center is actually the oldest operating duckpin bowling alley, having opened in 1927. (It was a favored hangout of the old Baltimore Colts.) There is even a picture of Babe Ruth bowling duckpins on the wall.

Bowling duckpins is still a great time. I remember the fun my officemates had. It's hard to resist going because it is such a hoot. But lest I forget, I keep the booby prize I was awarded for the lowest score that day. It's a miniature of Wild Turkey. No, I've never been tempted to drink it, but if I EVER have to go bowling again, believe me, I will.