c. 1900 – 1956 · american bowling alleys · supplanted by the amf automatic machine
he was usually a boy of twelve. he sat on a wooden ledge above the pit at the back of the lane, his feet drawn up out of the way, and watched the ball arrive. when the pins fell, he dropped down, gathered them by the necks like geese, and slotted them back into a triangular wooden rack he lowered by rope. then he climbed up again. ten cents a game, twenty if it was leagues.
the alley was loud. the building had a smell — sweat, beer, floor wax, old cigarettes — and at the back, the boys had a smell of their own, sour and pleased. they were chased by flying pins more often than is comfortable to say. a sharp one could break a forearm. they wore no protection of any kind, and they were paid in cash from a tin. it was good work for a boy who could not be still in a factory all day.
in 1936 gottfried schmidt sketched the first automatic pinsetter on a paper napkin in connecticut. amf bought the patent. by 1956 the machines were everywhere; by 1962 a working boy in the pit was already a story old bowlers told their children. the racks they used were thrown out, sold for kindling, kept as bar décor. one is bolted above the door at hennessy's in cleveland.
field note · the boys learned which players curved. they crouched on the safe side. it was not always the same side.