CHICAGO — For Brian Simmons, bowling is more than just birthday parties and social outings. It’s science.
There are resins that give the ball its hook, inner cores for rolling with power and holes to drill, which are crafted to fit fingers of all shapes and sizes, attached to Chicagoans with questions, comments and sometimes attitudes.
There’s no time for humor with a subject as serious as bowling.
“Part of the problem is that a lot of people who don’t know any better say all there is to it is three holes,” Simmons said as he darted around the organized chaos of his North Side bowling shop on a recent weekday.
“You should be able to hold the ball without having to hold onto it,” he said. “To get there, there are questions that must be answered.”
There are only two freestanding bowling shops left in Chicago: Simmons Pro Shop, 2147 W. Irving Park Road, on the North Side, and Andy’s Bowling Pro Shop, 6358 S. Pulaski Rd., on the South Side.
As storied bowling alleys across the city close or sell to redevelopers, the two remaining shop owners said they’re trying to hold onto Chicago’s most committed bowlers.
There were once 110-plus alleys in the city during the sport’s heyday in the mid-20th century, Simmons said. Now, he counts just a half dozen on the North Side, “if you’re not including those cosmic fun houses Downtown,” he said of the trendy entertainment venues that include only a few bowling lanes.
‘The City Needs Places Like This’
Some bowling shops operate inside alleys around the city, Simmons said.
“But I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t own the building,” he said as his drill hummed along. “Big outfits are buying up all the alleys that are left and people now are more interested in parties than leagues. It’s not great for business. I’m sure that’s what Lee is telling ya, too.”
Lee is Lee Nendza, owner of Andy’s Pro Shop in West Lawn, who sits stoically in his tidy shop with renovated floors as longtime customers pop in and out.
While Nendza has kept the lights on at Andy’s, many of the places where his customers bowled are gone.
The pins (and everything else) are down forever at former Orland Bowl, now a Tesla dealership, Oak Forest Bowl, which burned down this year, and Southport Lanes, which closed after nearly a century in business. Nendza rattled off more closures and pinned the collective losses at about 140 lanes in the last year.
Nendza spent nights in his younger days at the former Marzano’s Miami Bowl on Archer Avenue, playing $5 “pot games” until it was time to roll over to work the next morning. Now, it can be tough to book an open lane, even for just an hour on a weeknight.
“It’s just that the properties are now worth more than the businesses,” Nendza said. “Ball-drillers used to be like Mr. Goodwrench. If you needed a Brunswick ball, you saw one guy. If you needed an Ace ball, you saw Andy.”
Retired CTA executive William Thompson, 85, has bought over 20 bowling balls from Nendza, who Thompson calls “The Doc.” Bowling has kept Thompson young. When an elbow injury threatened his favorite hobby, Nendza hooked him up with a custom bowling brace.
Almost 25 years later, Thompson said he’s still rolling.
“Lee doesn’t just sell you a ball, he tells you what you need, and if that doesn’t work, he doesn’t charge you to change it,” Thompson said. “I’ve bought 20 balls here, and God willing, I’ll buy 20 more. The city needs places like this.”
Colleagues, Not Competitors
Simmons, 65, called Nendza one of the few good ball-drillers left.
“I know Lee, he knows me,” Simmons said. “He’s not stealing my business and I’m not stealing his.”
Nendza, 69, agreed this town is still big enough for both shops.
“I don’t get up north,” Nendza said. “We’re not competition. We’re all friends still standing in the same business.”
Simmons, who fancies himself more bowler than businessman, and Nendza, who sees himself more businessman than bowler, said they’re not sure what comes next. But Simmons doesn’t mince words when he says his shop will end with him.
“I’ve done everything I can to keep this place going for all these years after my dad died. And I’m proud of that,” Simmons said. “I’ve gotten by as a good ball-driller and a bad businessman. I know my limitations.”
Nendza smiled as he said he recently gave his grandchildren their first bowling balls. He grew up at the neighborhood alleys playing with family, “because that’s just what we did,” he said.
“These days, people go to the lanes, get one strike and are so excited,” Nendza said. “But a true bowler will never be happy. You want to average more. That’s what keeps you going.
“And if your ball breaks, I’ll replace it for ya.”
Getting Into The Bowling Business
Simmons has run the North Center shop since the early 80s, when competitive leagues were more of a draw to the sport than social outings, he said.
His father, Vern Simmons, opened the North Center shop as a sporting goods store in December 1946, “back when we could and should have bought the whole block,” Brian Simmons said.
Vern Simmons, a former star player for a Lane Tech state championship basketball team, went off to World War II but soon came back with lifelong disability checks, his son said. He opened the North Center store and sold fishing tackle, Converse All-Stars and jockstraps. Bowling was a lane that big-box sporting goods stores were not competing in, Brian Simmons said.
One day, Simmons’ dad handed him the keys and said, “Have a good time.” Brian Simmons dumped the fishing rods and reeled in on his favorite sport.
“My father didn’t give me his hairline or athletic skills, but I’m a better bowler than he ever was,” said Simmons, who has 15 perfect 300 games under his belt. He keeps the trophy pins above the checkout counter to prove it.
“It’s a learned sport. If you take the time, I can teach you,” Simmons said. “And then you can play until they close the lid on ya.”
Nendza said he fell into a career in bowling that ultimately put his kids through college. A self-proclaimed “decent bowler,” Nendza started out at Andy’s as a nearby high-schooler sweeping the floors for $20 a week.
Andy “Rock” Rogoznica — “a guy with a good name around here,” Nendza said — opened his shop in 1956. The store has had different owners over the years who were bowlers from the neighborhood.
On a recent workday, Nendza persuaded a customer out of buying a new ball, instead taking his old ball to the backroom to give it some new life.
“I’ll be here to help you change your average,” Nendza said. “But I can’t promise up or down.”
An Old-School Approach
At Simmons Pro Shop, a modest display of bowling balls spans the walls while the rest pile up in the corners. Faded pamphlets with bowling tips stack haphazardly atop Simmons’ desk. Cardboard boxes stripped of their bowling shoes are strewn across the floor.
The shop’s roster of clients are recorded on stacks of notecards Simmons keeps with each bowler’s measurements. His backroom, dusty and mostly barren with only an imposing drill in the middle, resembles Frankenstein’s laboratory.
There’s an old black tarp by the front window, acting as a makeshift lane for novice bowlers in need of a formal diagnosis from the bowling scientist.
“The place is a dump and I’m a slob,” Simmons said. “But certain people seem to like it that way.”
On a recent workday, the beloved shop owner spared no emotion when he informed David Funkhauser, a new customer, he has a “flexible thumb joint.” He penciled a few faint marks on Funkhauser’s fingers and shoved them inside a “fitting ball,” with holes of various sizes labeled through the letters of the alphabet. He operated a curved protractor with surgical precision.
Simmons disappeared to the backroom after collecting the measurements.
“It’s a little bit of information overload,” said customer and lifelong Waveland Lanes bowler Pablo Hurtado-Sorto, who has been through Simmons’ measurement process. “But he’s old school and he keeps it straight with you.”
Funkhauser, who recently started bowling in a league with his wife, daughter and son-in-law, said he didn’t mind “the battery of tests” Simmons performed on him.
“He’s got more knowledge than me,” Funkhauser said. “I’d rather pay a few more bucks for that.”
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