Normally, I hate the month of December in Motown. If the temperatures could only stay in the fifties and sixties, I would be a happy camper year-round. But, after all, this is Michigan. Just when you get accustomed to one kind of weather, the bottom falls just as fast as the mercury in a themometer.

With local tournaments heating up and holiday shopping in high gear, most bowlers couldn't be any busier. It is for this reason that December 1, 2002 will be a day that I will NEVER forget any time soon. (No matter how drunk I get.)

On Saturday, November 24, I was invited to bowl in the Greater Detroit Old Timers Bowling Tournament down at Thunderbowl Lanes. I was asked to bowl because I'm a representative of the media here in Detroit. Not because I'm getting older. (Just in case you didn't know that.) I was looking forward to this event. I always bowl great at Thunderbowl. Bowled a 642 series back in September in the Gavie Tournament. Beat a certain hall of fame editor-in-chief that day. Full of confidence, I headed to Allen Park. If only I had a clue what I has heading into, I would have stayed in bed.

I bowled with the media squad that included Larry Paladino and Al Harrison. Bowling on the other lane was a squad that included Ernie Segura Senior and Junior. They are the coolest father-son teams that I have ever bowled against. It was when Ernie jr. asked a simple question that started all of my problems. He asked why I wasn't bowling in next week's Steve Cruchon Memorial Tournament. I said that I had to work that night. I had talked to Tom McKay about this. He told me that it had a 9:30am check-in at Shore Crest Lanes in St. Clair Shores. I told him that I am a member of the Loyal Order of Nocturnal Nightcreatures local 711. It is stated in our bylaws that we DO NOT engage in any activities before 12noon. Unfortunately, these wasn't union guys. So, after getting hammered with questions of "Why not?" by Ernie jr. Tom McKay, Jim Strobl and Mark Martin, I say "yes". I just hope my union doesn't hear about this. BTW, I bowled a 610 series that day.

That following Saturday came way too soon. After getting off work at 8:30am, I headed to the eastside to bowl. Even though I'm bitchin' and moanin' about it, bottom line is that it is for a good cause. Half of the proceeds goes to the Karmanos Cancer Institute and the other half goes to the National Bowling Hall of Fame and Museum. (Why is a National Bowling Hall of Fame and Museum in St. Louis and not here in the bowling capital of the world???) I get there and chat a while with WJR's Tom Mazawey and Storm sales rep Doane Moos. To my horror, I find out that my partner, Ernie Segura, Jr., and myself are slated to bowl against "The Lous", Michigan Majors director Lou Ivancik and Red Robin/Big Boy Restaurants owner Lew Ansara. I quickly got that sickening feeling again. Check out these averages. Ansara: 187, Ivancik: 214, Segura, Jr.: 230, me: 158. (Thanks for killing my average, Hazel Park.) Once again, I took a knife to a gun fight and got my brains blew out. (Man, I love that quote. Glad I said it.) Bottom line, we didn't win. Thanks to my partner, we didn't come in last either.

Nevertheless, my busy day continued. I headed to Sunnybrook Lanes in Sterling Heights for a benefit wrestling event. Details of that event can be found elsewhere in this publication. It felt like I was going back home like a celebrated hero. You see, from 1993-1996, I produced Detroit's only local wrestling program, "Inside Slam!" We showed matches from all the local independant federations, ECW, WCW, and WWF. In that time frame, I got to meet and interview some great people. Some of them I can still call friends. OK, so I wrote a story about some of my buddies doing something for charity.

There's nothing wrong with that. But, there is something wrong with the subject of your story running for the door like they just stole something. That's right. The A.P.A. bailed on me. No pictures, no quotes, no nothing. They were slated to be signing autographs from 2pm-3:30pm. Bradshaw, Faarooq, and surprise guest Rhyno were heading for their limo at 2:50pm after arriving 15 minutes late. The WWF road agent that was with them, Tony Garea, told me that they left because of the size of the crowd. Great. The A.P.A. killed my story. To say the least, I was pissed. Unfortunatly, I took out my frustration on 400lbs plus Big Chuck Wagon by throwing him through the locker room door. I spent the rest of the day hangin' with my boys: 'Hard Time' Gene Austin, 'Double M' Mike MacMahon, 'Deathdealer' Tommy Starr, The Cold Brother Ice and Stone, The Outlaws Woody and Bobby Lee, 'The Smoothmover' Chris Vanity and his manager Scotty Libido, and Mr. sacrificial lamb, Big Chuck Wagon. The National Wrestling Alliance Great Lakes next event out at Sunnybrook Lanes is slated for Saturday January 6, 2002. Stop by and hollar at my boys for me.

I completed my activities for Saturday by attending the World Wrestling Federation's house show at Joe Louis Arena. Now, here is something to ponder for a couple of days. Back in July of this year, a simple WWF house show like this one that wasn't a televised event was a sell out. This time around, JLA wasn't even close to SRO, and I couldn't give my tickets away. If it wasn't for my stupid cousin asking me to take him, I would be in bed right now. As it was, I got hooked with great seats on the floor. If it wasn't for the WWF divas that worked that show and my trusty digital camera, it would have been hard to write the story. Bottom line, Torrie Wilson, Stacy Keibler, Trish Status and Jackie are flat out bodacious. The Rock and Bradshaw both addressed the crowd with patrotic speeches in reaction to the 911 tragegy. After that, my boys Double M and Kamakaze and I bailed. If I was a "MARK", I would have headed to one of the local strip clubs just to hang out with some of the wrestlers. Those days are over. Stories regarding those occasions are being saved for my biography. On that note, I'm done. Happy holidays everybody.

Darrin Hill is a freelance writer. You can contact him at: motorcitybowling@hotmail.com