It goes as no surprise that I have a close tie with bowling. The sport is not necessarily seen as a competitive sport like football or basketball, but it is to the people who show up after their ten-hour shifts. If you have never stepped foot into a bowling alley on their league night, this is what you are missing: you won't see a standard look, but you will see a wide variety of individuals and families, from the young to the old, and all with a reason for being there. I thought it would be fun to dive into the action of a money league and figure out the thrill of the sport. In doing this, I captured the overall feel behind the attitudes of the bowlers.

This is my reporting of a day on the lanes.

The lanes are overcrowded with bowlers. Tiny rosin bags are piled up on the ball return, smelling like vanilla cookies under the rapidly turning fans. Fifteen bowling balls are stuffed on each rack, colored like tropical Skittles. Metal lockers line the entire wall and loud slams are heard every few minutes when bowlers take our their balls and shoes. Feet zip by to get to their assigned lanes. Stragglers are coming in from busy workdays within the traffic-lined streets of Staten Island and New Jersey. My team finds our lane and set up, waiting for practice to start.

"Time to tape up," Jay announces. He is the captain of our team and keeps his dark hair neatly slicked with a side part, showing off specks of grey.

I've been bowling for years and never understood what the purpose was so I asked, "What's the tape for?"

"When it's humid or cold, your hand gets sticky, the tape keeps the same feeling in the ball," Jay answered while strategically placing thin strips of white tape across his thumb, middle and ring fingers.

“Maybe Jay won’t suck and shoot 160's today,” Leah blurts out while she pulled a never-ending strip of tape from her bowling bag like a magician.

Jay and Leah are the world’s most competitive couple. They met in a co-ed softball league years ago and now they are married with two children. While being die-hard sports fanatics, they competitively bowl together.

The click of the loudspeaker goes off and an old man with a whimpering, staggered voice barely chokes up, “Rar-i-tan Bay Men.. prac-tice will start, and.. please re-mem-ber to bring your en-ve-lopes up. Good luck.”

The screen displays six minutes on a countdown clock. We might get to throw three times, maybe four if we are lucky.

At the start of the first game, an older man to the left of us gets up to the approach while his neighbors impatiently wait alongside. He sets up his shot, taking about two minutes to adjust himself, and rubs his bowling ball like he is making a wish. Other bowlers know to put their balls back down on the rack.

Danny, the simplistic, easy-going bean stalk, delivers his ball and after getting a strike, he gives us all high-fives and disappears to the bar.

Leah delivers a fair shot and walks back upset when she leaves a ten-pin. Jay doesn’t want to help her just yet, it’s still early in the league and she has to keep her average low.

The two get into an argument and right when Leah goes to deliver her shot, Jay shouts, “I hope you f****** foul!”

Leah delivers a perfect ball and through silent laughter she replies, “Go f*** yourself!”

“Nice shot Leah,” Jay gives her an exaggerated thumbs up.

Leah doesn’t want to cooperate with the strategy; she just wants to win.

“Come on babe, get your name on that sheet!” He jokes with her when she gets another strike in the tenth frame; we are already winning by over 50 pins. “The first three weeks are bull****, just to get your averages and handicap. This is how you win leagues.”

The strategy for winning in a competitive money league is to keep your average low, creating a higher handicap against your opponent. When bowlers average high, they suffer in league play since they have to perform at and above their average to stand a chance at winning games. Handicap is the advantage the team has over the other team.

Bowling has been around for many decades, but its sparkle has faded. The glamour of bowling has melted away, leaving behind the few who are addicted to its gambling theme.

Curly-haired Goyzen has just about made our team complete. He is an opinionated man with big dreams of dominating the lanes, as he layers himself with wristbands, knee-braces, and applies medicinal menthol cream to his elbow. He would probably throw on a knee pad if he thought it would help him bowl. Jay named our team after him, Goyzenberry Crunch, maybe because he wears neon green basketball shorts.

Goyzen takes two short hops and a slide, delivering a perfect strike in the last frame. Jay screams at him, “That’s why you don’t win leagues!”

“STINK,” is yelled by Chiusano, a short, loud-mouth who hates bowling but is somehow always there, constantly asked to substitute when someone can’t bowl.

We are winning by too many pins and after I leave a typical ten-pin, Jay asks me to open, (miss the spare). I grab my spare ball and he stops me, “Hey Sam, why don’t you try your regular ball?”

I make the switch and miss the spare completely. Jay rubbed my shoulder, happy that I listened to him.

A skinny, middle-aged man slips at the approach after releasing his ball, ending up on the opposite side of the foul line with his feet in the air.

“He lolli-popped it!” Jimmy shouted; he is bowling a lane over from us.

Jay and Goyzen both agree it's a foul but the man started cursing about the foul light not going off. After slamming chairs, he finally announces, “I’ll f****** bowl again!”

It's necessary to visit the bar while bowling, and that’s where I was able to talk with Danielle, the bubbly bartender. She also bowls and is known for throwing her ball around 20 mph.

“I was really good as a kid, came in second place in a tournament, bowled a 35 and quit. Haven’t bowled since then, until this past summer. Now I can’t stop because I love everyone so much, and I want money so I can’t stop,” Danielle expresses while digging in the bin for a Corona bottle.

The foul-line-flopper is seated with his girlfriend, sipping from icy pint glasses and staring into a shared cellphone. A saddened man reflecting on his horrible game asks to buy me my drink. Another man sits next to me with a hurt expression on his face.

Danny pats him on the back, “I can’t believe someone took your shoes.” The man quietly sits there and continues to stare down at the floor.

While conducting my interviews, I wanted to know why people bowl; and with all of the

extensive things they do to keep in the game, why is it worth it?

Jay had arm surgery to replace a ligament a few years ago which was brought on by extensive bowling. Goyzen wraps his entire body in bandages so he won’t feel that much pain, suffering from tennis elbow. Danny deals with severe Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. So what’s the point? What makes this sport so addictive? I started asking everyone what made them start bowling.

I called up the wildly inappropriate Chiusano but he wouldn’t give me straight answers. Instead I was told, “I don’t f****** remember, I was three. Who the hell knows why I started. I was suckin’ my thumb and said I wanna bowl. Do you remember something YOU did when you were three?” After much laughter on my end, he continued, “I hate bowling. I hate it more than anything on the entire planet! It’s miserable and boring.”

Mike has graduated to the world of cell phone bowling on an app called Strike Skillz. He once received a hefty check for $22,000 and hasn’t bowled much since. He makes more money with his thumb at home. After reminding him of his recent win, he reacts loudly, “Bowling on a phone makes me hate real bowling even more! I bowl leagues so I can make money.”

Danny softly says, “I started bowling at six, and took a ten year break because it wasn’t fun anymore. It was too serious, you couldn’t even get a drink.”

Brian, the stylish sneaker-head with cuffed jeans says, “It is rewarding if you bowl good.”

Brian’s wife Lex, the wispy-haired newlywed agrees, “It’s a fun and relaxing hobby.” She started bowling a few years ago with her then fiancé and Jay.

The slightly reserved and quiet Anthony tells me, “I grew up here. Anytime I could, I wanted to be here. I like to be social. I don’t like to be by myself.”

“Bowling is the #1 most participated sport in the country, over basketball. It’s played over 60 million times a year,” says Tommy, one of the owners of the family operated Majestic Lanes bowling alley. He continued, “Even if I wasn’t in the industry, I would still bowl. No matter what age, you’re always looking to compete.”

Dawn, the busty blonde who bowls with her boyfriend Lamps says, “It’s just about having fun and you get to drink.” She started when she was 19.

Lamps, the flamboyant jokester of the lanes started when he was seven and stopped for two years. His reason for quitting shocked me, “Like all 16 year-olds, I discovered marijuana, cocaine and p****.” He picked it up again at 19. “I enjoy a night out. I’m good at it and I love to make people laugh. And Goyzen STINKS!”

Jay chimes in, “Bowling is 70% degenerates and gamblers, and 30% who bowl for the sport. I like when the game comes down to me. If I didn’t anchor, I probably wouldn’t bowl.”

My ball rotates horizontally when I throw it, which is wrong, it should spin vertically. I don’t know how to make it spin that way, and had to ask, “What comes out of the ball first, the thumb or the fingers?”

“I’m not sure. I have to wait til I bowl,” Danny says while pulling out his phone and YouTubing the question.

“The thumb is last!” Goyzen shouts, the corners of his mouth reaching well into his eyes.

Leah screams out, “Fingers are last, you idiot! Why do you think they say to give the ball fingers?”

Jay studies Goyzen inquisitively, “What’s wrong with you? How the f*** do you bowl?” Jay faces me, “Sam, don’t listen to ANYTHING Goyzen says about bowling, please!”

Stroakin’ Joe, the short, scratchy-voiced bowler yells to his mother, “Mah! What comes out first, the fingah’s or the thumb!?”

His mother, a sweet, blonde with a bright smile looks down at her hand, inquisitively, “Thawt they awll came out togethaa!”

Stroakin’ Joe stands up, “What the f***, that’s a knuckle-ball! Do me a favah, don’t speak!”

Danny alerts us to a YouTube video in slow motion, showing the thumb coming out of the ball first, followed by the fingers.

While looking around at the lanes, there is an array of characters enjoying the sport. There isn’t a look for bowling, like basketball where most of the players are tall and lean, or football where they are broad, muscle-men. Here it doesn’t matter, anyone can bowl.

“Goyzen found his confidence!” Jay shouts as Goyzen returns from a strike after a few bad frames.

“I found out how to use my fingers,” Goyzen smirks.

The plastic ball smashes into its last set of wooden pins. Echoes are heard in the now empty lanes. The tables and floors are covered with empty plates and beer bottles. Lights are lowered and the parking lot is vacant.

Jay continues, “My most calm, zen-like times were bowling at Colonial Lanes back when I was 13,14; it was the feeling of a perfect day. Bowling for me is always trying to capture that feeling again. It’s like a reset of life for three hours.”