Publishers Weekly
09/01/2014
The action of the title refers to “action bowling,” in which bettors gamble on head-to-head match-ups. Action bowling was most popular in New York City and the Northeast around the same time bowling was booming in the U.S.—the 1950s and ’60s—and, though it took place in the same alleys where families bowled, it was a late-night affair. Manzione, a native of Brooklyn, action bowling’s capitol, paints the scene of these late night battles and the hustlers, gangsters, murderers, gamblers, and characters, such as Joe the Kangaroo, Fish Face, Ox, and Bernie Bananas, who haunted these smoky alleys from dusk to dawn. While the mayhem and debauchery of action bowling is the central to the first part of the book, Manzione later turns his focus to Ernie Schlegel, a great bowler with a hot temper and a hustler’s spirit who tried to make it on the straight and narrow in the Professional Bowlers Association Tour. Manzione’s account of eccentric people, colorful places, and once-popular pro sport is a strike. (16 pages of color photos). (Nov.)
R. A. Dyer
In Pin Action, Gianmarc Manzione takes the reader on a fascinating journey into the murky world of high-stakes bowling. But this tribute to gangsters and gamblers is not just for bowlers. Anyone who appreciates top-notch storytelling will appreciate Manzione's audacious new book. Lace up your bowling shoes and muster your courage. You won’t regret the ride.
Clifford Nordquist Sr.
Pin Action took me on a wonderful trip back in time to the golden era of action bowling in the 1960s New York Tri-State area. Manzione's words brought back vivid memories of the greatest time of my life bowling action at Ave M Bowl in Brooklyn which was one of the most famous action houses of all time. He goes into great depth capturing the smell, the feel, the characters of this great bowling alley and others with his own very unique writing style.
Tampa Bay Times
The biggest pleasure of Pin Action is those stories of glory days, which read as if you're listening to a bunch of slightly shady old guys spinning yarns in some neighborhood club in the least hip reaches of Brooklyn. Manzione tells them with the colorful language and larger-than-life tone they deserve.
Booklist (starred review)
A book about bowling? Zzzzzz, right? Nope. Manzione lays bare a world to which most readers will have had little exposure. But he brings that world alive with vivid prose and razor-sharp characterizations. A superb sports memoir.
Dary Matera
A thoroughly entertaining slice of twisted Americana, New York gangster style. Only in the Big Apple could something so pure and Middle America as bowling become so infused with most of the seven deadly sins. Put it on the shelf with The Big Lebowski and Jersey Boys.
Tracy Crow
Every now and then, we're fortunate enough to stumble across a story that transports us to places we never knew we wanted to go. Pin Action is just such a storya rare, cultural gem of storytelling, both brilliantly researched and masterfully rendered. Prepare to be bowled over.
The New York Times
For those who roamed bowling alleys between dusk and dawn in 1960s New York City recall places where kids too young to shave made more money in a night than their parents made in a year, con men faked heart attacks to evade the gangsters they swindled, and no one went home before sunrise.
Library Journal
10/15/2014
Manzione (editor, Bowlers Journal International and Bowlers Journal Interactive) displays his love for the sport in this fast-paced biography of champion bowler Ernie Schlegel, who rose to prominence in the 1960s and 1970s. The author offers a look into the sub-rosa world of "action bowling," whose practitioners had as much in common with Minnesota Fats and other famous pool hustlers as they did with bowling greats Don Carter and Dick Weber. Many action bowlers arrived at dead ends but others made the jump onto the Professional Bowlers Association (PBA) tour, which offered legitimate success and safety from the fists, guns, and knives of opponents who didn't savor defeat in high-stakes matches and the mobsters who lost bets on them. The volatile and flamboyant Schlegel was denied entry into the tour for a protracted period because he stabbed a fellow bowler during such an altercation, and once he was admitted, suffered a years-long drought before winning his first championship. But perseverance paid off, and over the years he earned a place in the PBA's Hall of Fame. VERDICT This well-researched account is for those who remember the glory days of bowling. Others will be fascinated by the gritty side of the sport, which few knew existed.—Jim Burns, formerly with Jacksonville P.L., FL
Kirkus Reviews
2014-09-28
A hard-boiled and often funny look at the hustlers, thugs and characters of the 1960s New York bowling underworld. Before bowling alleys were sanitized into lanes and became family fun centers, they were as colorfully unsavory as any pool hall, race track or smoke-filled poker room, generating thousands of dollars per night in bets, weapons at the ready for those reluctant to pay. Manzione plainly misses those days of "action bowling" (gambling action), which have "faded into an obscure labyrinth of characters and stories." Characters and stories, as well as beatings and corpses, abound in this book, which mainly serves as a biography of Ernie Schlegel, action-bowling master—(and delinquent)—turned—flamboyant Professional Bowlers Association mainstay, reinventing himself as "The Bicentennial Kid," an elaborately costumed cross between a comic-book hero and Muhammad Ali. It took Schlegel decades to overcome his demons and rise to the top of his profession, but bowling kept him out of prison. Much of the book features side stories and anecdotes about guys with nicknames like "Joe the Kangaroo, who took a three-step approach and then hopped around the approach on one leg after each shot." Or the guy who bet he could drink a fifth of Scotch straight down, did, pocketed his $50 and dropped dead on his walk home. Or "the adrenaline-hungry kids with dollar signs for pupils." The author's romanticizing sometimes pushes the narrative toward purple prose—"By 1980, Schlegel was still waiting for the elevator in the lobby of his dreams"—and his stories can occasionally sound like tall tales. But he loves the sport, the era and the characters and makes good on the promise that "if it is even remotely as much fun for you to read about as it was for me to write about, then the journey will have been well worth the trip for both of us." Who knew bowling alleys could tell such entertaining stories?