Ode To The PBT on ABC

Sometimes I get as nostalgic for more innocent times as the next guy. That’s what happened this past weekend, when I was feeling the midwinter blues and the YouTube algorithm—my digital security blanket—anticipated the remedy, as it so often does.

What popped up? A 1981 ABC broadcast of the Pro Bowlers Tour (PBT). It was the semifinals of the Rolaids Open—another matchup between the legendary Earl Anthony and his explosive rival Mark Roth.

It’s hard to overestimate the popularity of bowling when I was a kid. The “Golden Age” reached its peak in the 1960s, fueled by the invention of automatic pinsetters and the rise of televised professional tournaments.

Bowling culture was still going strong in the mid-’70s when I was a teenager. At its height, there were approximately 12,000 bowling centers in the U.S., and the American Bowling Congress boasted millions of dues-paying members. League participation hit its numerical peak in the 1978–79 season, with 9.8 million certified members.

It was a relatively affordable pastime. Weekly bowling leagues were a popular social activity—one of those bygone institutions that helped form the fabric of community cohesion across North America. Every household seemed to have a bowling ball. I can still picture the pink one my mother kept in her closet. I used to take it out just to look at it with fascination, feel its heaviness, stare at its magical swirling texture, as if it might tell me my fortune.

Then there were the tournament sponsors. They weren’t the multibillion-dollar white-collar multinationals that sponsor golf tournaments—companies like Royal Bank or Farmers Insurance. The PBT had mostly consumer-product sponsors: Rolaids, Wonder Bread, True Value Hardware, AMF (American Metal and Foundry), and the Miller Brewing Company. The sponsors themselves were a portrait of middle America.

And the tournament locations were places like Akron Ohio, Decatur Illinois, Rochester New York, and Florissant, Missouri.

How popular were PBT broadcasts, hosted by the inimitable Chris Schenkel on ABC? They were regularly watched by millions. In the mid-1970s, bowling telecasts held a 9.0 Nielsen rating—meaning roughly 9% of all U.S. households with a television were tuned in. On February 16, 1980, a record 22.7 million viewers watched the AMF MagicScore Open. During this era, bowling telecasts frequently outdrew major sporting events like the NCAA basketball semifinals and rounds of The Masters.

It must be said that bowling was largely a white man’s sport. I can’t recall a single Black pro on television at the time. Like many American sports associations, bowling has a regrettable history of racial and gender exclusion.

But back to Anthony versus Roth.

This wasn’t just a rivalry between the two best bowlers of their era—it was a clash of styles. Two men trying to achieve the exact same thing—knocking down ten pins—with completely opposite approaches.

Anthony was Mr. Smooth, the epitome of grace. Always well groomed and neat in appearance, in his glasses he looked more like an accountant than an athlete. His approach was economical, the ball light in his hands, his timing quick. From the moment he set his grip to the start of his delivery was mere seconds—barely any hesitation. His backswing was compact, and he launched the ball seemingly without effort. There was hardly any visible spin, but exactly the right amount.

Roth was completely different—the bull to Anthony’s matador. Slightly disheveled, physically more compact, and explosive in motion, he appeared to deliver the ball with every ounce of energy he possessed. His backswing soared high above his head, and the ball careened down the lane spinning like a centrifuge, teetering on the edge of the gutter before cutting violently into the pocket at the last instant with phenomenal force.

Watching it now, decades later, what struck me most was not just the skill, or even the nostalgia, but the unhurried intimacy of it all—the enthusiastic crowd, the absence of flashy graphics, the sense that this was a sport made for ordinary people with ordinary lives. Anthony and Roth seemed less like distant superstars than like two men you might recognize from your local grocery store. 

In a winter that can feel long and airless, the broadcast was a small time machine to an era when competition felt personal, communities felt tangible, and even a simple game could command the nation’s attention for an afternoon. For a couple of hours, at least, the world seemed narrower, calmer, and somehow kinder.

As I usually do when gripped by nostalgia I looked up what happened to Anthony and Roth. Roth, who is still the only right-handed bowler to ever convert a 7-10 split on national television, continued winning tournaments into the early 2000s. He died in 2021 at the age of 70 of pneumonia.

Earl Anthony's fate was not so blithe. In a sad bit of irony, the epitome of quiet grace on the lanes died tragically in 2001 from a head injury sustained when he fell down a flight of stairs at a friend's house. He was just 63 years old.