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Medford, you should be proud By Tim Trower Go ahead, Medford, take a bow. A professional sports outfit came to town for the first time and left thinking you're pretty special. You know why? Because you made it feel pretty special. And this wasn't the XFL or the Continental Basketball Association or some other fly-by-night operation. This was the Professional Bowlers Association Tour, the same one that has been running such tournaments since the 1950s, the same one that some of you almost had to watch because your old black and white TV only got two or three channels, if the rabbit ears worked. Go ahead, Rogue Valley, take a bow. The best bowlers in the world came here, the top sports network came here, fans arrived from the north, from the south, from all directions. And because of you, they can't wait to return. Go ahead, Ric Donnelly, take a bow. You built what we now know is a truly lavish bowling center in Lava Lanes and dreamed of bringing the PBA here. It agreed to come, so you asked yourself, "Uh oh, what do we do now?" The answer is evident. You and your staff and dozens upon dozens of volunteers would work your tails off because you made a commitment. Seldom is the term "pride of ownership" more obvious. Those who didn't get a chance to attend the tournament but watched on the live telecast Sunday morning on ESPN heard Randy Pedersen, a member of the PBA for more than 20 years and the color analyst, bestow his version of the rookie-of-the-year award on Donnelly. What you didn't see, after the lights and cameras were turned off, was him go out of his way to find Donnelly to tell him that this was among the best tournament stops the PBA has had. Ever. "You should be proud," Pedersen said. "You should all be proud." I guess that's the point of this wrap-up column, to try to answer the, "Well, how'd we do?" question. It would be easy to cater to cynicism, to believe that the PBA players and staff told us what we wanted to hear as they graded Lava Lanes and our community, then went off and groused behind closed doors that it was a mistake to come here. Trust me, that did not happen. When it deals with host centers, the PBA actually has a checklist of things to do to make the players feel comfortable, feel welcome. Donnelly saw the list, then saw beyond list. "I looked at the minimums," he said, referring to things like a hospitality room, catering, making chiropractors available and what to do for a trophy, "then I said, 'OK, let's put on a show for these guys like nobody else has.'" He said he looked outside the box. "There are no better bowlers in the world than these guys," he said. "Let's treat them like that." That conviction showed. Vignettes similar to Pedersen congratulating Donnelly after the finals were played out every day of the tournament. These occurred in relative private; there was no need to put on airs. For instance, a PBA honcho walked into the nearly-empty media room a couple of days ago, looked at one of his staff members eating some of the catered food and exclaimed, "What is that, prime rib?" Told that it was, he exclaimed, "Man, these guys are going all out." Earlier, Eric Forkel, a longtime touring pro, said only two or three sites offer the pros hot meals. Otherwise, it's donuts and coke. He virtually pleaded with me to understand that the treatment they were receiving is special. Top-notch, he insisted. Very professional. And the prize Donnelly decided on as the Medford Open trophy? A Rolex watch, engraved with the winner's name. It complemented the winner's check of $40,000. One PBA staffer leaned over during the telecast to tell how excited the players were about the watch, a $2,000 beauty. Seems most trophies are just that, trophies. This was special, something they could brandish and use daily. She told how Walter Ray Williams Jr.'s wife could tell when he would win. If the trophy were beautiful, he wouldn't get it. If it wasn't, it would end up on their mantel. Williams did not win this one, which, I guess, says something. And after the finals, as runner-up Ryan Shafer explained that his week really was successful, he glanced over his shoulder at champion Ricky Ward and lamented that the only thing that would have made it better was, "if I had that watch." To a man, they offered these opinions. It was not necessary to solicit them. Donnelly and his staff knew what they had in the $6 million, 50,000-square-foot showpiece of a center. And they were confident they would treat the players royally, make them feel wanted. They could not predict the response from the community. Donnelly had about 100 people volunteer. He needed 60 or so. Some took a week's vacation from work to work for him for nothing. Helping with the pro-ams, scoring, fetching water for the pros, running other assorted errands. The effort was not lost on the PBA, which has a three-year deal with Lava Lanes. President Steve Miller leaned against a counter just before the TV finals and said, "This is off the charts." Actually, he said it twice. He also said that the PBA's new ownership is essentially reconfiguring the tour. It's a business, so it needs to be presented to large markets and many people so it can make money. But, it also must maintain some stops in, what he termed, the "bowling capitals." Small towns, out-of-the-way regions that love the sport. "Medford fits into that," said Miller, noting that growth must be balanced with "staying in places that are traditionally very supportive of what we're trying to do. One thing you can't do is alienate bowlers." There were a dozen or so smaller sites when he joined the PBA. Now there are about half that. A few more may fall by the wayside as the PBA gets bigger and better, but Medford could not appear more safe. Take a bow. Reach sports editor Tim Trower at 776-4479, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.