During the course of a busy night's work, a pinboy probably dropped into the pit 300 times. Each time he lifted a 14-or 16-pound ball onto the return ramp and scooped up handfuls of 3�-pound pins. By night's end he easily could have retrieved 1,500 pins. That's indolence?
In their successful wooing of the family trade, bowling's promoters have pictured the pinboy as an ill-favored relic of the days when bowling alleys stood barely a cut above pool halls in popular perception. No doubt the automatic pinspotter represents progress, although in a contest for speed and efficiency over a three-game series, I would put my money on a pinboy. But as we rush to embrace technology (some bowling centers now boast computerized scorekeeping systems, too), tell me no tales of lazy, unreliable, devil-may-care pinboys. There weren't any at the Penn Bowling Center.