Wearing a helmet had never before seemed germane to bowling. Until now.

[onefrombills]

The neon-orange bowling ball seemed to hover in the air, at least four feet, quite possibly more, above the synthetic bowling lane (hardwood lanes are archaic) at Northside Lanes in Winston-Salem.
A plump woman in red, skintight stretch pants had inadvertently hurled her ball skyward during a problematic approach to her lane's foul line. The foul line is where the bowler usually stops and the ball ostensibly starts its speedy journey toward clobbering a triangle of 10 maple-and-plastic pins at lane's end.
The woman jumped up and jiggled down. She covered her face and plugged her ears as the ball violently crashed to the lane. She likely didn't see it weakly roll into the gutter -- as if needing a place to die. But she definitely noticed the jarred bowlers around her, all of whom had stopped bowling to grumble and glare at her as she giggled and loudly blamed the ball.
She was having fun. No need for bad vibes. It's just a game, right?
Not to Tom Baker, born in Buffalo, N.Y. -- bowling country. He settled in King five years ago, and he lives to bowl. It's his life. "People say I'm good," he said, shrugging, as he started walking to his lane, wheeled bowling-ball carrier in tow. "Me -- I think I can get better. I know I can get better."
Baker's sentiment is open to hopeful dispute among many of his contemporaries.
It was while bowling that Baker, 54, met his girlfriend, Donna, the daughter of the late Tommy Tuttle of King. Tuttle had been a champion professional bowler, and his daughter competed in regional pro tournaments. She now works for R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. and remains a top local-league bowler.
"I first met Donna early in life, but we went our separate ways. Years later, we got back in touch," Baker said. "And that's how I ended up in King."
They bowl together from time to time. "She's really good," Baker said. "And she's very competitive." Asked if he let her win, or she let him win, he slightly smiled, the side of his mouth turning up, eyes twinkling. No safe answer available. No answer coming.
Baker was bowling at the far end of the alley. He was wholly unaware of the ruckus at the opposite end. He was fixed, trancelike, on the pins standing 60 feet down the oiled lane. He was, as he said, "ready to knock down some pins."
He didn't really mean "some" pins. He meant all the pins, all the time.
Baker's stance, even the way he cradled the ball, set him apart from the other bowlers. He was relaxed, his body bent into a matrix of seemingly unnatural angles. He approached the foul line with intuitive grace. When he released the ball he turned his wrist, so subtle as to go unnoticed. There was nary a sound as ball hit lane and started to glide.
Maybe 25 feet from the pins, the ball started noticeably reacting to the oil on the lane and the wrist twist. It gradually moved right then, at the last second, it dramatically hooked to the left, perfectly hitting the pocket, the sweet spot between the pins that starts the intended domino effect.
All pins clattered down. Strike! Baker's reaction was slight. No biggie. It was supposed to happen.
None of the other bowlers in the alley noted that this was Baker's fifth consecutive strike. None saw him leave one corner pin wobbling on his next roll, or noticed that he retaliated with seven more consecutive strikes. It looked effortless, easy.
"Is that enough?" Baker politely asked. An answer was unneeded. It couldn't get more surreal.
But it did. It was later pointed out that Baker had missed bowling a perfect game (a score of 300, or 12 consecutive strikes) by one unsteady pin. Five strikes. A near miss. Seven strikes. Baker didn't seem to notice. "I don't keep score," he had said, before starting. "Here, it doesn't matter."
He has rolled perfect games --unheard of for most bowlers -- when it mattered. Forty-eight of them, to be exact. "There were more," he said. "I don't really count when I am just fooling around."
On this afternoon, he was just fooling around. He wore neither glove nor wrist brace as he bowled.
All that adorned his hand was a nice watch and a ring. The ring tells all.
Tom Baker is a lord of The Ring. It's how he rolls.
A lot of work, a little luck
"This is my … Professional Bowler's Hall Of Fame ring," he said, pointing to an inscribed ring that holds 32 diamonds. "There are only 10 of these (series of) rings in the world." His eyes sparkled. "That ring represents a lot of years and work, a lot of time." He paused. "And maybe a little luck."
The Professional Bowler's Hall of Fame was founded in 1975, and it has 81 members. Luck did not land them there.
Jack "Double J" Jurek is a fellow pro bowler. He has known "Bakes," as Baker is known on the pro tour, for 25 years. Jurek has one PBA Tour win, in 1995.
"I still always look forward to seeing ‘Bakes' bowl," Jurek said. "But I never look forward to having to square off against him. He's a great bowler. Fundamentally, his style is solid. But he can repeat a shot --roll a strike, again and again-- as good as anybody I've ever seen. When he hits that rhythm, look out."
Jurek added that Baker, in addition to winning tournaments and a World Championship, is also a multiple recipient of the Pro Tour's Sportsmanship Award.
"He is a great guy, one of the best out here," he said. "He represents everything positive about bowling. He's the kind of guy who a stranger sees bowl and thinks, ‘Hey, I bet I could do that, too."
Bowling is America's Everyman sport. Virtually anybody can bowl. Only a few can bowl great.
Baker, who maintains a 244 average -- that's high -- has been bowling since he was 8. He used to hang out at Voelker Lanes, right across from his house. His father bowled. His older brothers bowled. The family watched pro bowling on television. Everybody bowled. It was the neighborhood social activity.
Baker watched and learned. He had the touch. Buffalo locals called him a natural.
People still call him a natural.
"I've known Tom for 10 or more years, and he goes about life and bowling in a totally unassuming and natural manner," said Tracy Golding, since 2006 a co-owner of Northside Lanes, Winston-Salem's first integrated bowling alley. "He comes here to practice when he's not on tour, and when he comes in, he is working. This is his job."
Golding chuckled in appreciation. "You don't often walk into local alleys and see bowlers such as Tom. His concentration is amazing, and he is deadly, amazingly accurate. Still, most of the people don't know who he is. He will walk in wearing shorts and flip-flops. He doesn't flaunt who he is."
Golding said that Baker goes out of his way to work with young bowlers. "He gives them a lot of his time, bowling with them, encouraging them and teaching things he had to figure out on his own. I think it goes back to his youth as a bowler."
‘The kid' turns pro
By the time Baker was 13, he was Buffalo's prodigy bowler. Baker said that he was soon "bowling for action" at the local alleys. Regulars would tell visiting bowlers about "the kid" with a 186 average who could beat them without breaking a sweat. Invariably, a money match would emerge. Since Baker didn't initially have money, adults at the alley gladly would spot him for a cut of the action. Before long, Baker was spotting the money -- and putting some in the bank.
"I was making around $150, $200 a day, and I was bowling every day," Baker said. "When I became a scratch bowler (200 average) I started playing in local tournaments and making more money. I finished school, and in 1976, at 21, I made the pro tour." He laughed. "The money got better."
He shook his head. "I've never worked a regular job in my life."

[onefrombills]

Baker knows some people snicker at the idea of bowling as sport, and bowlers as athletes. But he said that nobody on the tour is laughing. If they are, they are laughing to the bank.
Barker has won 10 national title championships on the pro circuit. He won the PBA World Championship in 2004. He has earned $1.7 million as a professional bowler. He was voted into the Professional Bowlers Hall of Fame in 1999. He said that he still makes six-figures a year on tour, and he is also sponsored by Brunswick. He hasn't bought a bowling ball in years. A physicist -- no joke --drills the holes in his balls specific to his personal touch and needs. Baker is serious.
He laughed at the image of the bowler as portrayed in such films as The Big Lebowski and Kingpin -- misfits and lovable losers with a fondness for drink. "When you bowl at the pro level," he said, parodying The Big Lebowski, "The Dude doesn't imbibe -- at least when bowling."
Baker is fit. He looks to be in his 40s, he regularly works out, and he religiously watches his diet -- fresh vegetables, lots of chicken and fish, not much red meat. The only outward sign that he bowls for a living is the pumped-up over-size of his right forearm -- the result of throwing a heavy ball with precision for 8 to 14 games a day, for months on end.
"I have to stay fit," he said. "There are young guys on the pro tour gunning for me. They ask me if I've had my Geritol. So I have to make sure that it's still a joke at the end of a tournament. I like a challenge."
Rolling into the future
There is much, much more to bowling when played at the rarified level. All lanes are coated with oil; the oil contributes to how the ball moves and curves. Different oil patterns are used in competition, so bowlers learn how to work each pattern. Use of the correct ball becomes key. Baker carries 30 with him on tour. He drives or flies to tournaments; his balls, and that of his fellow bowlers, travel by truck.
He uses several balls in the course of a match as the oil begins to thin, changing the movement and behavior of the ball, or when he needs a ball to move a certain way. For instance, lighter balls move slower and go straighter. "You can't go out and just throw the ball on the pro tour," Baker said. "Those guys are the best in the world. But the great thing about bowling is that anyone, any age, can go out and just throw the ball and still have fun."
Baker now splits his time between the regular circuit and the senior-circuit tour, which he was eligible to join in 2005. The tours don't overlap, so he is on the road, bowling, about eight months a year. He has dominated the senior circuit, winning four major tournaments and getting named Rookie of the Year. He has been Senior Player of the Year every year since joining. He is the only bowler so honored.
"If this keeps up, they gonna kick me out," Baker said. "To be fair, I am the youngest player on the Senior Tour -- and I'm the oldest player on the regular tour.
"So it evens out."

[kev3inp]

I've heard that his squeeze is Dave Olm's ex, hence they don't get along. Dave's got a shop in the Tampa area and has cohosted the Let's Go Bowling Show, in addition to being a guest. We go to Creekside Lanes in Winston-Salem every summer for a Ballreviews Gathering and to work with Ron Cifton, but we've never been to the other lanes there, despite Chris Paul.