Bowling and golf have a lot in common.
They are two of the few sports that require a human to use a ball to battle the conditions.
The names of the two professional organizations are very similar: Professional Golf Association, Professional Bowlers Association.
Both sports require hand-eye coordination.
Both sports are greatly enhanced by muscle-free swings.
In both sports, a long, extended follow-through is a prime requisite for elite players.
Both sports have undergone revolutionary changes in equipment that have provided extra offensive power.
This is probably the extent of the similarities.
For example, consider the incredible disparity in the prize funds of the two sports. The average golf pro makes more money in one tournament than the PBA's money leader earns in a year.
Golf tournaments outdraw bowling events about 1,000 to one and has about five hours of national TV coverage to every hour for the PBA.
Then, of course, there is the contrasting philosophy of golf and bowling concerning the honor and integrity of the game, both by the governing bodies and individuals alike.
In both sports, modern equipment has been a controversial subject, an area of contention that thoroughly distinguishes the ideology of the two sports.
Golfers and golf organizations are far more inclined to adhere to rules and challenges, while most bowlers and proprietors favor doctored lanes that produce 230 to 240 averages.
In bowling, urethane, later reactive urethane, followed by proactive urethane balls have vastly improved striking power. The reaction of modern bowling balls has been further enhanced by sophisticated cores that are designed to perform in a variety of methods for achieving advantageous results.
These are signs of progress, just as it has been in other sports. Pole vaulters now soar two to three feet higher with fiber-glass equipment than they did with bamboo wooden poles.
During the 1940s era, all-time greats Sammy Baugh and Sid Luckman tossed passes with footballs that were rounder than the modern slim versions.
Moguls may stick to the claim that baseballs are not juiced but there is no explanation for 160- to 180-pound players swatting 30 to 40 home runs a year and gasp as sluggers send balls into outer space.
Offense has become the focus in sports, and golf is no exception. The Callaway Golf Company introduced Big Bertha clubs that have added up to 30 percent more distance. Witness the PGA Senior Tour. Stars of the past are hitting tee shots anywhere from 40 to 50 yards farther than they did in their heydays.
On the regular PGA Tour, 300-yard drives were reserved for giant players like George Bayer. Today, average-sized players like Dave Duval consistently blast 290- to 300-yard shots. Tiger Woods is a virtual cinch for birdies on par 5 holes, and, more often than not, he uses an iron club for his second shot.
Despite the allowances permitted by golf bigwigs, putting remains the foundation and mainstay separating scratch players from average Joes. Golf has never sanctioned a system that channels balls into the cup—ersatz, blocked lanes in bowling jargon.
As previously stated, improved equipment is the creation of progress. But progress, in golf, has limitations that are sacred to its followers.
Golf's limitations were put to a test recently, a test that cast the game's most celebrated public relations spokesman, Arnie Palmer, in the role of a villain. Palmer, credited with elevating the game from penny-ante purses to its present lofty status, has been branded a traitor.
Palmer inked a 12-year contract with the Callaway Golf firm and endorsed a club, the ERC II. The United States Golf Association is responsible for certifying all new golf equipment, clubs, and balls to make sure that they remain within certain performance limits so that just any duffer can't hit a ball 400 yards, thus destroying the integrity and rules of the game.
Callaway's new ERC II driver was banned from the USGA because its high-tech club creates a spring-like effect that launches the ball too far.
Mr. Palmer stunned the golf world because once you declare certain rules not be followed, every rule is open for bending.
The super ambassador of the PGA was accused of selling his soul for a few pieces of silver and threatened with banishment from the USGA board of directors.
The affable Palmer, regarded as golf's premier purist, attempted to justify his position. He defended his endorsement of the souped-up ERC II for regular golfers because he felt recreational golf is different from professional golf and weekend golfers should not be restricted by all USGA rules of golf.
It not only riled the governing body of the USGA, it rattled the cages of many golf pro shops that blatantly refused to stock the club. For example, Jim Lucius, golf director at San Francisco's Olympic Club told Golfweek Magazine, "Not only will I not sell them, I will not acknowledge them".
Such is the mentality and creed of the golf world.
Unfortunately, bowling is not of the same ilk.
John Jowdy, a member of the ABC and PBA Halls of Fame, is a past president of the Bowling Writers Association of America.