Robinson rolls perfect 300 in league his late mother used to run

Published 4:00 pm Monday, October 21, 2024

“I want the public to know how much fun we have bowling and invite anyone who is thinking about joining a league to come out and see what a great time we have.”  

Those words from a 2019 business profile of Lake Country Lanes were from Patricia Robinson, the bowling enthusiast who organized the Pickle Barrel League that meets weekly at the local bowling alley for some friendly competition. 

She passed away June of last year, but her legacy lives on as the league continues and bowlers come out for that great time she mentioned. 

And two Mondays ago, the Pickle Barrel bowlers were definitely having a great time. 

At the center was Patricia’s son, Brian Robinson, a local banker and Milledgeville native. As the night rolled along, bowlers stopped what they were doing to enjoy the show he was putting on. Every ball slung from his meaty right arm was finding the pocket, which is the part of the bowling lane where the ball should travel to maximize its chances of knocking down all 10 pins for a strike. It’s where bowlers want to be as they search for that perfect 300 score, a rare 12 strikes in 12 throws. How rare? A quick search online shows that the odds of bowling a 300 are about 11,500 to one, or once every 4,000 games. 

Robinson was living in the pocket that Oct. 7 night. 

“Every time I let it go, I knew it was a strike,” he said. 

The Baldwin High Class of ‘94 grad said he started feeling the heat after about the eighth frame. He was a perfect 8-for-8. The mountaintop was in sight. Robinson’s good friend and bowling partner Scott Deason had already begun employing some wisdom normally reserved for the baseball diamond. When everything’s going right, leave the pitcher alone. 

“Once we got to the eighth frame I stopped talking to him,” Deason said. “I wouldn’t even look him in the eye.”

Then came the ninth strike. And the 10th, meaning Robinson needed two more for that coveted 300. 

“I didn’t feel real pressure until I threw the first strike in the 10th frame,” said Robinson. “If I’d have thrown an 8 or 9, everybody would’ve gone back to bowling and drinking. When I threw that first strike in the 10th, I knew about 70 people were really watching me.”

The 300 was a summit he had yet to reach since he really got into the sport as a youth at what was then the Baldwin Bowling Center. Robinson started back bowling in the Pickle Barrel League about three years ago before his mother passed. A self-estimated 200-average bowler, his previous best was in the low 270s. 

Robinson is a Milledgeville-ian through and through. He played football at Baldwin all through high school, serving as captain for two years as an offensive lineman under head coach Bill Young. Baldwin was a 9-4 state quarterfinalist in Robinson’s senior football season of 1993. The Braves’ campaign was ended by the Bainbridge Bearcats, led by some guy named Kirby Smart who had an interception in the second quarter. After high school Robinson attended Georgia College & State University. Today he’s senior vice president at Century Bank and vice chair of the Central State Hospital Local Redevelopment Authority.

Not one to talk up his own accomplishments (“Putting the story back there in the foreclosures would be fine with me,” he said when reached for comment), Robinson does admit he makes good food on the grill and is a decent bowler.

Still, that 300 game had proved to be elusive in his over three decades of lacing up his bowling shoes. Seeking to become a member of the 300 club, Robinson hurled his 11th ball two Mondays ago. It produced an agonizing few milliseconds that had to feel like a decade.

“The 11th strike was iffy because the 10-pin fell late,” said Robinson.

Was there help from his mother above? 

“No doubt she was there the whole time,” the son said. “I think she wanted me to feel the pressure.”

There was still one more ball to be rolled, but by then all the pressure seemed to have melted away.

“The 12th strike was a no-doubter, dead on the money,” said Robinson. “I don’t even remember throwing that last ball.”

Lake Country Lanes erupted.  

“We all jumped up and down like kids because we knew what it meant to him,” said David Dyer, another friend and bowling partner. “I was very happy for him. He doesn’t show a ton of emotion, but I know him well enough to know he had a lot of memories flooding his mind when that last pin went down. Mrs. Tricia was grinning ear to ear, I feel quite sure.”

“You always think about bowling a 300, but the older you get and the less you bowl, the more you feel like it’s never going to happen,” said Robinson. “When it happens, it’s pretty surreal.”

Take that, Kirby.

Once there were no more pins left to knock down, Robinson stood below the scoreboard and posed for a picture with two fingers pointed skyward, a fitting gesture to highlight the accomplishment and also acknowledge his mother who helped foster a son’s love of bowling.