The Greatest

Andy ("The Greek") Varipapa is a powerful, stubby little man, and his own warmest admirer. Says he: "Hell with that blushing violet stuff." Varipapa, is, and admits it, the world's greatest bowler.

Despite a limp (one leg is shorter than the other), he has rolled more perfect (300) games, 68 in all, than anyone else. He can and does bowl with either hand, with both at the same time, with his foot. In Detroit, where bowling goes biggest in the U.S., he gets $900 a week when he puts on exhibitions. Says he: "If I'd been a golfer, I would have putted with precision. As a bowler, I am a master of rhythm." Varipapa's confidence is unbruised by the fact that in 16 tries he has never won the A.B.C. (American Bowling Congress), biggest tourney of all.

Man Against 18,000. In Los Angeles last week, amid the rumble-and-crash of mineralite balls on maple alleys, Andy Varipapa again flunked his A.B.C.s. The unknown who pushed into the lead at the tourney's halfway point was slim, 49-year-old Fred Breckle of Detroit. His score was 738; Varipapa's, 715. But the man the crowds came to see was Varipapa, who has won every other major tournament often enough.

In the A.B.C., 18,000 men compete and the odds are against any one expert. In the singles, each man is limited to three games. In so brief a test, he has no chance to study the beds (alleys), get the feel of the wood,-the bounce of the floor. The best Varipapa could do was to roll 13 consecutive strikes.

As a $9-a-week switchman on the Brooklyn Bridge, Andy Varipapa used to jog back & forth across the bridge every day to develop his legs. In the finals of a recent Chicago tournament, 16 crack bowlers had to roll a grueling 64 games in four days. Varipapa, though 53, was the only one to finish without sore muscles. Despite his chunkiness his arms are sinewy, his wrists powerful, his legs hard. Volatile as he is, Varipapa rarely loses his temper during a match. Says he: "Sometimes I get mad when the ball hits the pins the right way and they don't go down like they should. But I don't blow up. I know that Varipapa will win in the end with his perfection and precision."

From his exhibitions, movie shorts and lectures, Andy Varipapa earns about $25,000 a year. His advice to the nation's 18 million amateur bowlers: the approach is the most important thing, four even steps with no sudden stop when the ball is released (though he himself, an exception to his own rules, takes five); the arm should swing up as if the bowler were throwing it up to shake hands with someone; the eyes should not be on the pins but on a point at the foul line where the ball will first touch. But there is one thing more: "Varipapa is rhythmical . . . that's why he's the greatest."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.