This is the day that saw bowling’s greatest promotional vehicle, ABC-TV’s "Pro Bowlers Tour," come to an end.

No, it doesn’t signify the end of bowling on television. It will return to ESPN later this year, and CBS will have at least nine one-hour telecasts beginning next April.

Cancellation of the show merely indicates that bowling, as a national sport, took another devastating blow to the chin. Television critics in all leading newspapers in the country reported the death knell for "Pro Bowlers Tour" on ABC.

The deletion of television programs, extremely painful to those involved in their production, is old hat in the entertainment industry; it happens quite often. Over the years, many have been aborted prior to the proposed schedule, much like Broadway shows panned by critics are forced to shut down after opening night.

TV critics could have related the reported cancellation of "Pro Bowlers Tour" by ABC in a more explicit manner. Average Americans were led to believe that bowling was no longer a viable entertainment vehicle—as though bowling was dead!

Unfortunately, these same critics were remiss in reporting that ESPN, a subsidiary of the ABC network, recently had inked a three-year pact with PBA.

To say that the final ABC telecast had a sad ending is a vast understatement. For those involved in the production of this 36-year-old program—history’s second-longest-running sports program behind college football—it seemed like a death in the family.

I did not attend the tournament because of a prior commitment to the BPAA Convention in Las Vegas. However, I was fortunate to get home in time for the final ABC telecast. I’m not certain how this final episode affected other observers, but in view of my close association with the production crew, it was a terribly empty feeling. And yes, grown men do cry! I openly admit to shedding more than a few saline drops as the show slowly came to its conclusion.

Any sports fan, including macho men or hard-hearted women, who failed to share the pain bared by Chris Schenkel during the course of the show, possesses veins void of red blood.

Chris Schenkel, a member of the Radio and Television Hall of Fame, has covered every athletic event in the world of any consequence and has established himself as one of the greatest sports personalities in history. The only knock in his brilliant career was his reluctance to criticize failures that individual athletes endured. If this, in the eyes of cold, calculated critics, is a weakness, Schenkel is guilty.

Personally, I prefer a guilty Schenkel than an ex-jock living in the past. I have even less respect for sportscasters, having never engaged in athletics, second-guessing and castigating performers who, although greatly overmatched, continue to work their butts off, sweat to virtual death, and do their ultimate to compete against difficult odds.

Chris Schenkel is for real—nothing phony, nothing synthetic, nothing artificial. He is the most down-to-earth human anyone would ever want to meet. The tears, the choking voice, and his inability to hold back his melancholy passionate emotions were genuine. He forgot no one—Eddie Elias, Billy Welu, the entire ABC production crew—from the show’s inception until its lamentable end. Mr. Schenkel was the voice of the PBA from ABC’s first show to the very end. For 36 years, Chris has repeated time and again, "Bowlers are the nicest athletes I have ever been associated with."

Those of us who have known Nelson Burton Jr. can surely empathize with Bo—a notorious macho man who takes great pride in his masculinity. Bo, incredibly conditioned by virtue of running and pumping iron, made every effort to maintain his composure but, like any mortal, succumbed to human nature. Three quarters into the show, all that Bo was able to pump were tears, despite attempts to retain his emotions. His heart just gave in.

Only those fortunate enough to have met the show’s producer, Carol Lehti, can appreciate her talent and the tremendous energy she poured into "Pro Bowlers Tour." My wife, Brenda, and I were extremely fortunate to be included among her close friends on tour. "Pro Bowlers Tour" was her baby, her entertainment package, her work of art, her pride and joy.

Sadly on this dismal Saturday afternoon, it all ended.

Who can ever forget Bobby Paventi, the happy-go-lucky native from Brooklyn? Paventi gave Butch Soper, Bob Benoit, Tommy Baker, and numerous other players opportunities to earn expense money for the week. He was in charge of graphics in the production trucks and only employed touring players. The handsome Italian knew practically everyone attending a PBA tournament. He thoroughly enjoyed the game, the players, and the fans. Over the years, Bobby gave away thousand of souvenir pins, caps, jackets, umbrellas, writing pens, and other items bearing the ABC logo. Paventi’s duties, like many others on PBT, extend into "Monday Night Football."

Those of us who were fortunate enough to observe the crewmembers can appreciate the manner in which they transformed a four-lane area into a TV studio.

Unfortunately, this type of production required more than a few good men and women, became increasingly costly, and perhaps led to the demise of the show.