Dear dimwit on the phone

Ah, a retro touch. Nice.

The people who ran our bowling alley family fun center hated that "tiny" print. They hated that I didn't cover their annual tournament, which covered four consecutive weekends during basketball season. They hated that I didn't call this one guy "Smitty" Smith but by his real name.

When the roof on their bowling alley family fun center caved in after a snowstorm, the insurance company told them that they were not going to cover them anymore. And they couldn't find anyone else to do it. Then they said that the company wouldn't cover the damage because they determined it was caused more by "neglect" than the storm. And then they complained that the city wouldn't give them money from the new business development fund even though they gave money to the people who opened the movie theatre. Well, you, bowling alley family fun center, were an existing business while the movie theatre was a new business (the old theatre had closed down years earlier and had been converted to a concert hall).

So, yeah, don't miss bowling a bit.

 

Let me guess. They wanted you to write a story about how unfair the insurance company and the city was for not giving them money to make their repairs.

 

The dude asks for one specific name each time, but won't give us any contact information to reach him in case a person with that name -- as you put it -- goes toes up.

We've tried to glean information from him; he just won't let us know who he is or why he MUST call each and every day at the same time each and every day. And the number he calls doesn't have voice mail (it's the general newsroom line, and rings until it's picked up), so we really can't trace the number through that system.

 

And keeping with the bowling trend:

Dear bowling league president,
We have a policy that we do not run nicknames of people, and that we must have first and last names to run something.

We will not put "Lil" Mo and "Big" Mo in the paper. We don't care if "that's what people call them." I don't call them that, my boss doesn't call them that -- so that's not everybody. I couldn't tell these folks from Adam, and our readers -- outside of your fellow bowlers -- won't either if we run their damn nicknames.

 

I once had a snarky football player try to give me a ridiculous nickname. I asked if he was sure that's what he wanted in the paper and he chuckled and said yes. I then asked him if that was how his mom would like to see his name. He stopped laughing and gave me his real name.

 

I doubt anyone outside of their fellow bowlers even cares about seeing bowling scores in the newspaper. That said, I agree with not running nicknames.

I also agree with not running bowling scores, as well as Old-Lady-League golf scores. I worked at a paper years ago that ran dart league scores from the local bars. Just plain stupid.

 

Tell that to my bosses' boss.

We used to run a weekly bowling roundup/column/whatever.

 

We run bowling and dart ball in agate, as space permits, and golf leagues in the briefs. No nicknames.

 

If you're a small-town paper, bowling and golf scores are a staple. Big city papers, of course, not so much.

 

Once, just once, I wanted to see local bowling scores from a bowling alley in Ohio inside of Sports Illustrated.

 

Oh, hell, yes. But of course, they were upset that we were actually asked for the city's side of the story. That somehow made it slanted toward the city.

 

OK...this is a Dear Dimwit on the Sideline...

Battle of top-10 ranked big schools hoops team in our state tonight, so I'm shooting the second half behind the baseline when this blowhard parent walks up and settles in next to me. He is wildly cheering for his kid and loudly complaining about calls. To the point, I thought one of the officials would deal with the idiot, but that didn't happen.

During one timeout, he turns and ask who I'm shooting for, so I introduce myself and ask him the same question. He goes on to tell me he's watching his kid #24, so I inform him parents are supposed to watch from the bleachers...the court is reserved for coaches/players and those with credentials.

This goes completely over his head, and he continues his act.

Next timeout, one of the cheerleaders does flips down the length of the court. Idiot dad sidles up again and says "Wow, you should have your camera on that. She's one limber gal" followed by creepy laughter. I give the guy an "Are you serious?" staredown, walk to the other side of the basket and finish the game. Freaking jackass.