Death and the Modern Bowling Alley

Bowling alleys used to smell like peanuts, smokes, beer and Brut cologne. In their heyday, the only entertainment offered was the sound of pins crashing on the hardwood and maybe some Slim Whitman on the juke. The modern bowling alley, however, is a place where lively odors and good old fashioned fun are forced to compete with black lights and 10′ television screens looming at the end of each lane. That’s to say nothing of the grabby, post-teen discotheque on weekends. Littleton’s Fat City (9760 West Coal Mine Ave—Fun Plex to those who once knew) is the most grievous offender. The bowling alley at this strobe-choke-stroke-a-bloke feels like the Chiba City train depot. We couldn’t tear ourselves away from the non-stop extreme sports coverage long enough to finger the three-hole, but roger them in right in the ear if they don’t have one hell of a bargain going in the $6 pitchers of their signature “Fat Spice Wheat”—tastes like cinnamon, gets you high; and closer to death if you think about it …

How to Keep Score in 10 Pin Bowling
Scoring a game of bowling used to be an art form. In the ’70s, league members were given nicknames based solely on their ability to keep track of their teammates’ scores (take Boston’s, “Barren Barrel O’Neil,” famed for never scrapping a scorecard due to error). As lengthy perms became the hairdo of choice, automated scoring swept the nation’s alleys like crabs across an old couch. Bowlers lost the ability to tabulate their scores. Most still know how to count the pins that fall, so for brevity’s sake we’ll only review strikes and spares.

When a player strikes, he or she gets ten points, plus a bonus of whatever is felled by the next two balls. Therefore, the points scored for the two balls after the strike are actually counted twice. A player bowling a spare is awarded ten points, plus whatever is scored with the next ball thrown. A perfect game consists of 12 strikes in a row and is generally referred to as a “Thanksgiving Turkey,” or in Bostonian circles as a, “Triple-Decker Spuckey.”

Though most bowling alleys in Denver have switched to automated scoring, the good people at Bowl-ero (5480 W Alameda Ave) still have the paper charts and will sharpen a pencil and turn off the automated system upon request.