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I came across this article about Mark Roth that I thought I'd share with everyone:
A Legend In The House
MARTIN FENNELLY
Published: Jul 18, 2004
TAMPA - Don Yoshihara, a pro bowler from Tampa, loves a juicy paycheck. The 28- year-old recently made $23,000 for winning an American Bowling Congress national tournament.
Know what else he loves? Telling pros across the country about the center manager at Florida Lanes, a friendly house on North Florida Avenue. Don learned to bowl there. Works there with his grandmother, mother and father. And the manager.
``I tell guys on tour I work with Mark Roth,'' Yoshihara said. ``They think it's funny, working at a bowling center for somebody named Mark Roth. I tell them no, it's the Mark Roth. They laugh. But it's true. It's the Mark Roth.''
Sure enough, the guy behind the counter spraying disinfectant in red-and-tans after a family returns its shoes, showing teenagers how the computerized scoring works, doing payroll, saving leagues, rubbing elbows ... it's him. The Hall of Famer. The revolutionary. Master of the Big Hook, Most Holy Maker of the 7-10 split.
The Mark Roth.
``One and the same,'' Roth said.
What's The Story?
It's like finding Barry Bonds working the scoreboard at Tropicana Field. Or going to a football game ``with Joe Namath selling the hot dogs,'' Don Yoshihara said.
There has to be a story here. Not an entirely happy one. But not exactly sad.
``Oh, I'm happy,'' the 53- year-old Roth said. ``I love the sport.''
There was a crash. Lane 14. A strike.
``No better sound in sports,'' Roth insisted.
How in the world of sports did he end up here?
Let's leave it at a bad marriage, a costly divorce, some bad investments and a job down here that fell through. Last October, Roth called an old friend, former pro bowler Jay Robinson, a district manager for AMF. Robinson started Roth at Florida Lanes.
``He's happy, but no, he shouldn't have to be here,'' Robinson said. ``The game needs to take care of the legends.''
And Mark Roth is a legend. Maybe you have to be a certain age to know it. Go back 30 years, when bowling overflowed with kingpins and a cocky right-hander from Brooklyn began assaulting the PBA Tour with a cranking, powerhouse hook no one else was throwing. At least like him.
``I'd go across five boards, then back seven,'' Roth said. A cocked wrist, a freewheeling approach. Old-timers said the kid wouldn't last. His thumb would fall off, or his wrist, or both. The kid became the father of the modern power game.
Roth won 34 Professional Bowlers Association titles. Only Earl Anthony and Walter Ray Williams Jr. have won more. He won a record eight titles in 1978. He was voted player of the year four times and elected to the PBA Hall of Fame in 1987.
That was only part of the package. There was New York talk, New York temper. Roth once slam-dunked a 16-pound ball into a floor. He once kicked a ball into a bay.
And on Jan. 5, 1980, on national television, while defeating Bill Straub at Mel's Southshore Bowl in Alameda, Calif., Mark Roth beat his sport's longest odds, knocking the 10 pin off the kickback and into the 7 pin for the spare. For the first time, a 7-10 was conquered on national TV. Real bowlers remember that 7-10 like it was men on the moon. Only two PBA bowlers have made the 7-10 on TV since.
``And neither won their match,'' Roth noted.
Standing outside Florida Lanes during a cigarette break, someone asked Roth to name the best bowler in history. He took a drag.
``You're looking at him.''
Mountain Of Memories
Roth remembers the first PBA title he won, the King Louie Open in Kansas City in 1975. He bowled 299 in the final match, with all but a stubborn 4 pin falling. ``I still have that pin,'' Roth said.
He won his last title in 1995. Then his knees went bad, surgery bad. He hasn't been a PBA Tour regular since 2000. Roth has bowled some senior events and would do more if the money was better. He thinks older bowlers get swept to the gutter.
Seems like yesterday that he was a teen haunting houses across New York's five boroughs, looking for late-night money games, action bowling. He once left a house at sunrise with $4,500. He went to a car lot and bought a shiny red Dodge Charger. Roth was 22. He paid cash.
There was someone at the front counter. They needed a reset. Roth told the customer which button to push. He came back with a story about a guy he knew, action bowler, name of Iggy Russo, who figured out the only sure way to beat a bet gone bad.
``The guy pulls a gun, so Iggy, he fakes a heart attack,'' Roth said. ``Ambulance comes. Iggy jumped out going down the road. That's what you did back then.''
Back then, as a pro, Mark Roth averaged 215 over 15 years and 8,000 games.
Eight thousand games.
``I can't tell you how amazing that is,'' Yoshihara said. ``People today have no idea.''
Ahead Of His Time
Because today you could walk into any house in Tampa and see league bowlers rolling 215s easy as you please. Guys are carrying 215 averages who couldn't carry Mark Roth's shoes. Kinder lane conditions and techno whiz- bang balls have paved the way to bigger sweet spots. But the numbers lie.
``Now everybody throws the hook I threw,'' Roth said. ``You can buy the hook. Anybody can.''
He doesn't like today's PBA or its truncated senior tour. Too few events, not enough prizes. Roth thinks the PBA should do more. He was only the second bowler to win $1 million on tour, taking home $1.5 million across three decades. It averages out to 50 grand a year. That's about half a game's work for A-Rod.
``But I've enjoyed the ride,'' Roth said.
It was 1 a.m. one night at Florida Lanes. Roth was closing up but talking about the time he guest starred on ``Fantasy Island.'' The episode featured Al Molinaro (Al on ``Happy Days'') dreaming of beating the best bowlers in the world. He defeated Roth, among others, under the watchful eyes of Ricardo Montalban and Herve Villechaize.
``I still have a pin signed by Al Molinaro, Ricardo Montalban and Rue McLanahan,'' Roth said.
He didn't ask Villechaize to sign.
``Guy had an attitude. Carried guns. A real attitude. You know, he was a midget.''
It became 1:01 a.m.
In 1996, Roth appeared in ``Kingpin,'' a comedy starring Woody Harrelson as a downtrodden bowler turned hustler who trains Amish bowling sensation Randy Quaid to beat huckster Bill Murray. Roth reprised his ``Fantasy Island'' role as best bowler in the world. But do you know the real kick?
``I go to Reno for shooting,'' Roth said. ``I see Woody Harrelson and Randy Quaid. They start shouting, `Hey, Mark, 7-10!' That was nice. People remember.''
He Likes It Here
There are folks who come to Florida Lanes who have no idea who the man behind the counter is. They're busy rolling to disco and laser lights on Xtreme Bowling Nights or pounding on video games or holding afternoon children's parties. And does the man at the counter have a knife for the cake? He says check the snack bar.
Mark Roth says he has some things in the works. He'll enter a senior event in St. Petersburg next month. After that, he's not sure about the bowling.
But he likes Florida Lanes, so much so he was married there. That's right. He and Denise made it official last December. They go way back, to when Denise ran a center in upstate New York and Mr. Power Ball blew through. They hooked back up a few years ago.
Ah, the ceremony. The groom, a nutty New York Rangers hockey fan, wore a Rangers road blue jersey. The bride looked lovely in his other Rangers jersey. They exchanged vows on Lane 16. Shirley Kennedy, the assistant snack bar manager, also a notary, performed the service. Naturally, they set up a 7-10 on 16.
``That's me,'' Mark Roth said with a grin.
A legend need not explain himself.
``Dude, that guy was Superman,'' said Robert Collins, an afternoon bowler from Lutz.
Superman bowls in a Tuesday night league at Florida Lanes. Mark Roth averages 213. Don Yoshihara is in the same league.
``I watch him bowl,'' Yoshihara said. ``He still cocks that arm. Yeah, it's the Mark Roth.''
Mark Roth was at the counter, giving someone change. The customer mentioned how he saw the 7-10 live. Then he was out the door. Roth's smile lingered. He turned to a visitor.
``See?''
People remember.
A Legend In The House
MARTIN FENNELLY
Published: Jul 18, 2004
TAMPA - Don Yoshihara, a pro bowler from Tampa, loves a juicy paycheck. The 28- year-old recently made $23,000 for winning an American Bowling Congress national tournament.
Know what else he loves? Telling pros across the country about the center manager at Florida Lanes, a friendly house on North Florida Avenue. Don learned to bowl there. Works there with his grandmother, mother and father. And the manager.
``I tell guys on tour I work with Mark Roth,'' Yoshihara said. ``They think it's funny, working at a bowling center for somebody named Mark Roth. I tell them no, it's the Mark Roth. They laugh. But it's true. It's the Mark Roth.''
Sure enough, the guy behind the counter spraying disinfectant in red-and-tans after a family returns its shoes, showing teenagers how the computerized scoring works, doing payroll, saving leagues, rubbing elbows ... it's him. The Hall of Famer. The revolutionary. Master of the Big Hook, Most Holy Maker of the 7-10 split.
The Mark Roth.
``One and the same,'' Roth said.
What's The Story?
It's like finding Barry Bonds working the scoreboard at Tropicana Field. Or going to a football game ``with Joe Namath selling the hot dogs,'' Don Yoshihara said.
There has to be a story here. Not an entirely happy one. But not exactly sad.
``Oh, I'm happy,'' the 53- year-old Roth said. ``I love the sport.''
There was a crash. Lane 14. A strike.
``No better sound in sports,'' Roth insisted.
How in the world of sports did he end up here?
Let's leave it at a bad marriage, a costly divorce, some bad investments and a job down here that fell through. Last October, Roth called an old friend, former pro bowler Jay Robinson, a district manager for AMF. Robinson started Roth at Florida Lanes.
``He's happy, but no, he shouldn't have to be here,'' Robinson said. ``The game needs to take care of the legends.''
And Mark Roth is a legend. Maybe you have to be a certain age to know it. Go back 30 years, when bowling overflowed with kingpins and a cocky right-hander from Brooklyn began assaulting the PBA Tour with a cranking, powerhouse hook no one else was throwing. At least like him.
``I'd go across five boards, then back seven,'' Roth said. A cocked wrist, a freewheeling approach. Old-timers said the kid wouldn't last. His thumb would fall off, or his wrist, or both. The kid became the father of the modern power game.
Roth won 34 Professional Bowlers Association titles. Only Earl Anthony and Walter Ray Williams Jr. have won more. He won a record eight titles in 1978. He was voted player of the year four times and elected to the PBA Hall of Fame in 1987.
That was only part of the package. There was New York talk, New York temper. Roth once slam-dunked a 16-pound ball into a floor. He once kicked a ball into a bay.
And on Jan. 5, 1980, on national television, while defeating Bill Straub at Mel's Southshore Bowl in Alameda, Calif., Mark Roth beat his sport's longest odds, knocking the 10 pin off the kickback and into the 7 pin for the spare. For the first time, a 7-10 was conquered on national TV. Real bowlers remember that 7-10 like it was men on the moon. Only two PBA bowlers have made the 7-10 on TV since.
``And neither won their match,'' Roth noted.
Standing outside Florida Lanes during a cigarette break, someone asked Roth to name the best bowler in history. He took a drag.
``You're looking at him.''
Mountain Of Memories
Roth remembers the first PBA title he won, the King Louie Open in Kansas City in 1975. He bowled 299 in the final match, with all but a stubborn 4 pin falling. ``I still have that pin,'' Roth said.
He won his last title in 1995. Then his knees went bad, surgery bad. He hasn't been a PBA Tour regular since 2000. Roth has bowled some senior events and would do more if the money was better. He thinks older bowlers get swept to the gutter.
Seems like yesterday that he was a teen haunting houses across New York's five boroughs, looking for late-night money games, action bowling. He once left a house at sunrise with $4,500. He went to a car lot and bought a shiny red Dodge Charger. Roth was 22. He paid cash.
There was someone at the front counter. They needed a reset. Roth told the customer which button to push. He came back with a story about a guy he knew, action bowler, name of Iggy Russo, who figured out the only sure way to beat a bet gone bad.
``The guy pulls a gun, so Iggy, he fakes a heart attack,'' Roth said. ``Ambulance comes. Iggy jumped out going down the road. That's what you did back then.''
Back then, as a pro, Mark Roth averaged 215 over 15 years and 8,000 games.
Eight thousand games.
``I can't tell you how amazing that is,'' Yoshihara said. ``People today have no idea.''
Ahead Of His Time
Because today you could walk into any house in Tampa and see league bowlers rolling 215s easy as you please. Guys are carrying 215 averages who couldn't carry Mark Roth's shoes. Kinder lane conditions and techno whiz- bang balls have paved the way to bigger sweet spots. But the numbers lie.
``Now everybody throws the hook I threw,'' Roth said. ``You can buy the hook. Anybody can.''
He doesn't like today's PBA or its truncated senior tour. Too few events, not enough prizes. Roth thinks the PBA should do more. He was only the second bowler to win $1 million on tour, taking home $1.5 million across three decades. It averages out to 50 grand a year. That's about half a game's work for A-Rod.
``But I've enjoyed the ride,'' Roth said.
It was 1 a.m. one night at Florida Lanes. Roth was closing up but talking about the time he guest starred on ``Fantasy Island.'' The episode featured Al Molinaro (Al on ``Happy Days'') dreaming of beating the best bowlers in the world. He defeated Roth, among others, under the watchful eyes of Ricardo Montalban and Herve Villechaize.
``I still have a pin signed by Al Molinaro, Ricardo Montalban and Rue McLanahan,'' Roth said.
He didn't ask Villechaize to sign.
``Guy had an attitude. Carried guns. A real attitude. You know, he was a midget.''
It became 1:01 a.m.
In 1996, Roth appeared in ``Kingpin,'' a comedy starring Woody Harrelson as a downtrodden bowler turned hustler who trains Amish bowling sensation Randy Quaid to beat huckster Bill Murray. Roth reprised his ``Fantasy Island'' role as best bowler in the world. But do you know the real kick?
``I go to Reno for shooting,'' Roth said. ``I see Woody Harrelson and Randy Quaid. They start shouting, `Hey, Mark, 7-10!' That was nice. People remember.''
He Likes It Here
There are folks who come to Florida Lanes who have no idea who the man behind the counter is. They're busy rolling to disco and laser lights on Xtreme Bowling Nights or pounding on video games or holding afternoon children's parties. And does the man at the counter have a knife for the cake? He says check the snack bar.
Mark Roth says he has some things in the works. He'll enter a senior event in St. Petersburg next month. After that, he's not sure about the bowling.
But he likes Florida Lanes, so much so he was married there. That's right. He and Denise made it official last December. They go way back, to when Denise ran a center in upstate New York and Mr. Power Ball blew through. They hooked back up a few years ago.
Ah, the ceremony. The groom, a nutty New York Rangers hockey fan, wore a Rangers road blue jersey. The bride looked lovely in his other Rangers jersey. They exchanged vows on Lane 16. Shirley Kennedy, the assistant snack bar manager, also a notary, performed the service. Naturally, they set up a 7-10 on 16.
``That's me,'' Mark Roth said with a grin.
A legend need not explain himself.
``Dude, that guy was Superman,'' said Robert Collins, an afternoon bowler from Lutz.
Superman bowls in a Tuesday night league at Florida Lanes. Mark Roth averages 213. Don Yoshihara is in the same league.
``I watch him bowl,'' Yoshihara said. ``He still cocks that arm. Yeah, it's the Mark Roth.''
Mark Roth was at the counter, giving someone change. The customer mentioned how he saw the 7-10 live. Then he was out the door. Roth's smile lingered. He turned to a visitor.
``See?''
People remember.
