Alumni Bowling, Anyone?

If scholar Robert Putnam would describe bowling alone as the antithesis of alumni networking, how would he describe the alumni community of a bowling league?

Last Thursday, while visiting my family in NJ, I went back to my old bowling league - my first civic membership as a 17 year-old - to see the guys I left behind when I moved to Boston. With four years being recognized as the standard for proving proficiency - elementary school, junior high, high school, college, presidential term - what does it say about your learning curve if it takes you six years? Well, if you are a bowler in the St. Anthony's Men League in Cherry Hill, NJ, it makes you a prodigy.

For many guys, this league has been a weekly institution for the last 10, 20, or 30 years; a place that comes without a rite a passage, no corridor into the future, just frames that connect the past and present. A bowling league is the exact opposite of a high school class - over time, the people stay the same, only the physical structure changes. With new computer technology and upgraded seating, I almost didn't recognize the place until I saw Chris - same haircut, same ugly bowling shirt, same beer.

"Man, they'll let anyone in here. Seanie, what are you doing here?" Same bad jokes with the same South Jersey accent. I've been transported back to a conversation from 1997. One by one, I shook hands with Freddy, Joey, Bobby, and Eddie - in addition to initialized team bowling shirts, everyone gets a variation of their first name.

"Seanie, how's teaching in Bahston?" Unfortunately, that bowling code of conduct still applies to me. I don't have the heart or the stamina for civic engagement to tell these guys I haven't taught in four years - and even when I was teaching I wasn't really teaching. The guys that know me slightly better know that my current career falls somewhere between the Peace Corps and a nice thing.

"Seanie, when are you moving back to Jersey?," asks Joey, my teammate of four years, "The guys miss you."

"Joey," I say, "I'll be back when you make a 7-pin with some regularity. Or when the Phillies win a World Series. Whichever miracle happens first."

With every visit home, it becomes clear that South Jersey is no longer that. However, I didn't know how I would feel about bowling until I watched a game pass from the bench seats. It felt like showing up to a service day with no slots available. With most things in life, there seems to be an age when you outgrow the experience. Perhaps bowling and service are the two notable exceptions.