Words by Gutther Bawl.

Soren Kierkegaard once said, ”life must be lived forward, and understood backwards” and in this vein after reflecting on our third Premier League Bowling season, it is time to review the memories (that we can recall).

Pinter Milan claimed the title again, the first team to lift the trophy in back to back seasons. When asked after the finale what such a monumetous achievement meant to him and his side, Pinter’s captain The Tickler said “it feels good, it feels really good”.

Truth be told the Italians certainly made hard work of it going into the last couple of games, and the finale was no different. Fortunately for them, they’d done enough of the hard yards earlier on to ensure they could tolerate a few below par performances on the night.

The finale came with all the fireworks expected and history was made right from the start. For the first time ever, all 18 bowlers notched up 100+ scores. A century has gone from guaranteeing a victory only a few seasons ago, to the very opposite. A microcosm for the standards of excellence that have infected this league. These standards led 8 men from across all the teams to bring us scores of: 141, 144, 151, 152, 153, 156, 184. There were also multiple scores in the 130s, a total that at one point would’ve been considered beyond reach.

Late in the third game, one of PLB’s all time fan favourites, Slapz, brought us another moment of magic. After No Show’s turkey (for muggles, that’s 3 strikes in a row) in the evening’s opener, a core bowling memory was formed. After fighting tooth and nail against The Tickler and J Money, a match up that exceeded already high expectations, the Rider’s contingent of this titanic tussle took aim at a set of 10 pins, and sent them all down. One strike. Given his form on the night, there was something in the air, a sense that something more was on the cards. The people’s pinsman took aim once more, and again, all 10 pins fell. Two strikes, and now we were on for our second turkey of the night. It seemed inevitable, as though fate herself was present in the room. Gun barrel straight, the ball hurtled down the lane, and predictably, it was Christmas again - turkey-time. What had not been predicted, was the celebration. As though possessed, Davy Slapz moved like a gazelle across the lanes, arms aloft in joy, sharing the moment with fans, revellers, and passers-by up and down Rowan’s downstairs lanes.

By the end of the third game, as had been the case all night, the scores were close and so the League’s counting committee retreated for their all-important sums.

It was an anxious wait for the results, with no immediate celebrations or commiserations. No one could afford to assume anything. PLB’s statisticians worked incredibly quickly to finish their sums, checking and cross-checking to ensure no controversy would ensue. Pinter had led by 6.5 points going into the finale, and in the end, they triumphed by a margin of 7.

Queue the scenes of jubilation, and relief in one camp, and deflation, in equal measure shared across the losing teams. A night of thrilling competition had passed, too close to call in real time, but now we had our answer. The journey was complete, and a dream realised.

And so what of our teams this year…

Title aside, the Pinter outfit has had recruitment at the front of their minds this year. An untimely injury to Zlats, and life’s schedule have at time proved a challenge to their squad. Recruitment is a difficult business, but occassionally a diamond is found in the rough, and Pinter mined their own little stone this year. The Bad Boy launched himself onto the scene, and creating an impact on a sports league Erling Haaland can only dream of. Avoiding the complacency that comes with back-to-back titles will be their biggest challenge, especially with both other franchises finding the consistency needed to cross the tape first.

Riders fell just short this year, and this one looked like it hurt. His words laiden with the emotion conveyed in his eyes, all Davy “2 Shoes“ could muster, was that his outfit will be back next year stronger than ever. I can also confirm that Moz “The Moz” Moz is looking to return to British soil. After a stint evangelising the British style of bowling out in mainland Europe, will the return of one of the Rider’s original guard be enough to turn the tide of this franchise, time will tell.

And of course we have this season’s awards. The worthy winners are as follows:

Bowl’on Dor: The Wickerman, Riders of Rowans

PLB Weekly’s Bowler of the Year: 2 Shoes, Riders of Rowans

PLB Bowler’s Bowler of the Year: The Bad Boy, Pinter Milan

Gutther Bawl’s Most Promising Pinsman: J Money, Pin City Rollers

…and the PLB Team of the Season

• The Wickerman, Riders of Rowans
• 2 Shoes, Riders of Rowans
• The Ticker, Pinter Milan
• Slapz, Riders of Rowans
• Big Time, Pinter Milan
• Pinetti, Pinter Milan

To end on a more personal note, the eagle eyed among you (and my editor.. sorry Barry) will notice that this piece took a little longer to surface than others. There are a number of reasons for this, one being that I lost about a week trying to get Chat GPT to write it for me, the results of which didn’t make great reading. AI is not yet threatening PLB, and I think we can be thankful of that, for now.

In truth, something didn’t feel quite right about just summarising the events of the finale, and the season’s awards. It felt incomplete, and it took time for the mental mist to clear across the fields of my mind.

Premier League Bowling has become so much more than something to do, one Thursday every month. Or at least it is to me. To reflect upon the journey of our teams and the gladiators that do battle, I must conclude that Premier League Bowling is the very best of the “old school”. A level of connection and camaraderie discouraged by the individualism of our modern technical age, an antidote to selfishness and egotism. A place where primus inter pares - first among equals - is how you treat others, and are treated in turn. A place where giving a sh*t is awesome, and knowing that “this matters” will bring approval, and agreement, and not disinterested glances. One senses that the same mysterious fondness that binds a football fan to his club, and to his fellow fans, holds the fibers of this league together; and that is special.

As the first crisp pint, on a sunny day, our seasons don’t last long enough. No matter though, because like all good pints, there’ll be another one on the way shortly. The fans can’t wait, the players can’t wait, and I for sure, cannot wait.

We start again - nil-nil-nil - glory awaiting the lucky few. We’ll see you soon, and as always, keep it rolling.