By Christian Tan (26S07B) and Huang Han Cheng (26S05B)

“You may commence your 10 minutes of practice throw.”

The announcement rang out in a calm, almost clinical tone – a familiar phrase that brought all bowlers into a state of focus, form, and flow. But today, it felt different. It was the finale of the Bowling National School Games, and for many, this would be the last time they would hear those words echo through the alley. The last time they would line up their shots with precision, the last time they would channel their strength into every throw, the last time they would carry the pride of their schools on their shoulders.

But for Raffles Bowling, this wasn’t just the finale of a season – it was the finale of an era.

With last year’s Girls’ team having clinched champions, the pressure was palpable: it was their final chance to defend a title not just once again, but for the last time, before the CCA closed down. Scanning the bowling alley, something immediately came to our attention: while most schools had brought in 3 or more teams – with ACSI and ACJC bringing out the largest fleets – RI just brought out two squads. One male, one female.

All hope thus rested on the four musketeers helming the Girls’ team: Carine Foo Rui Qi (26S06C), Sarah Oh (25S03K), Ashley Zulkifly Minyi (25S03C), and Isabelle Wee (25S03K), and simply put, they could spare no effort. In the Girls’ Quartets, they were merely 14 pins away from ACJC – a margin close enough to conquer – and today, the title of champion for Girls’ Quartets was within reach. 

The Boys were no less focused. They all went out, one by one, almost like a well-oiled machine, unfazed by a blunder, unmoved by a strike.

“Bowlers, please stop your practice throw. Bowlers, please stop your practice throw.”

The alley was clearly not built for the crowd of supporters from every school. The matches began, swathes of people formed behind each station, and you’d be lucky getting a good peek at the athletes in action. Parents held water bottles in one hand and towels in the other, while supporters scurried up and down the alley to check on their teams’ performances. 

Just like the cold air that settled over the bowling alley, the atmosphere was equally as frigid – tight, silent, and full of tension. Not a single player laughed, smiled or even spoke. Each player carefully gripped their ball, examined the oiled patterns of the alleys in front of them, settled on the velocity, the angle, the force of releasing the ball, and in a calculated act of resolve, released the ball of hope.

The pins stood like terracotta soldiers at the end of the lane, unyielding at their set positions – and as time seemed to slow in those fleeting moments between release and impact, the whirring of the ball skimming down the lane cut through the silence, somehow, louder than any cheer could be. 

At times it concluded with a thunderous strike. At times a stubborn split. But with each release and impact, the releases were sharper, the impacts were more precise – technique honed not just from years of experience but also from improvisation, adapting to the subtle changes in oiling.

“One team?”
“Raffles!”

A sort of routine emerged. As the ball leaves their hand, the bowler stares suspensefully at the trajectory, analysing the results of their carefully taken shot. Only when the ball resoundingly hits the pins, and the sound of them clattering like dominoes on the hard wooden floor reverberates throughout the alley, do they turn around, their faces relieved of its previously tension-filled look.

Then, like a call-and-response, they would emphatically shout out a cheer, while the small team of supporters replied with fervent energy. If a strike was thrown, applause and fanfare definitely ensued. But the crowd didn’t hold back on their enthusiasm even if a shot was missed. The athlete would be showered with cheering and clapping, and dap-ups of encouragement. 

Most of us have never met any of these athletes, nor are we particularly devoted to the school’s sports performances. Why was there so much passion and fervour involved then? Maybe it was to do justice to the athletes’ efforts, or simply to get immersed in the exhilarating environment. Nevertheless, captain Jordan Puar described the situation perfectly: 

You had to be there to experience it. 

The final day of the A Division Bowling Championships began with a quiet sense of urgency. While the RI girls entered the arena with cheer and camaraderie, the numbers from the previous rounds loomed heavy — they were trailing ACJC by 14 pins. A margin slim enough to bridge, but large enough to rattle nerves. Everyone knew that each frame mattered. Every shot could make or break the title.

But things did not begin in Raffles’ favour.

The first game saw the girls struggling to find their rhythm. Their usually tight formations were punctured by a string of errant balls, unfortunate splits, and moments of visible frustration. Meanwhile, ACJC’s bowlers were locked in — executing near-flawless games with spare after spare, strike after strike. By the end of the first round, RI had fallen behind by a staggering 164 pins. The air felt heavier. The cheers, quieter.

The second game was about recovery — not just of the scoreboard, but of spirit. The girls wiped down their bowling balls with purpose, refocused their minds, and adjusted their lines. Slowly, they began to claw their way back. Spare conversions grew cleaner. A few scattered strikes raised hopes, but ACJC remained steady. By the end of the block, the deficit had narrowed slightly — down to 120 pins. Better, but still daunting.

Then came the third game — and with it, something remarkable.

Ashley opened the round with precision, her first strike greeted with a cautious cheer. Then a second. Then a third. Momentum began to shift. With seven consecutive strikes, she turned heads across the alley. Her teammates, fuelled by the energy, followed suit. Isabelle hit her stride with a solid string of frames, and Sarah Oh — ever the composed captain — anchored the charge with a 227 game that showcased grace under fire.

The atmosphere transformed. Where there had once been murmurs of doubt, now came chants of “One Team Raffles!” after every frame. High-fives flew across the lanes. The girls huddled tightly after every round, recalibrating and cheering one another on. Parents at the back of the alley leaned in, tense but hopeful. Coaches whispered urgently during frame breaks. Across the lanes, even their ACJC rivals began to feel the pressure.

As the third game raced towards its end, the strikes kept coming. The final tally? 2353 pins to ACJC’s 2286 — a 67-pin advantage in the last round alone, and enough to secure the overall championship title.

What began as a day of uncertainty had turned into a showcase of resilience, tenacity, and belief. From 14 pins behind, to 164, to roaring back with the performance of a lifetime — the RI girls had done the unthinkable.

The boys’ team were not as privileged. None of the members were DSAs, nor did any have external training. Pitted against some of the most capable bowlers in Singapore, Jordan remarked that it was “hard to fight for a spot”. But by no means were they novices. 

From the beginning, they were also shooting strikes left and right. Every motion, from picking and lifting the ball to release, was clearly refined through countless trainings. The game was intense, yet laid-back at times. Players bantering with supporters in between turns, and shouting silly “cheers” with them. But as more strikes were being racked up, the atmosphere turned electric, and the excitement on the competitors’ faces only grew. 

At the height of the second game, bowler Fabregas See’s biggest worry came true: He had re-damaged his right-hand ligament, already torn the previous day. As he had told us, he was “on a ton of painkillers and Daze”, but to no avail. Concerned and scared faces filled the crowd, as a councillor ran to collect an ice pack. But maybe through the encouragement of his teammates, or plain resilience, Fabregas’ performance surprisingly improved, and many consistent strikes followed. 

By the third round, the boys’ team were one of the few yet to finish. As all the supporters, with the girls’ team, surrounded the lane and coordinated in roaring cheers, it felt like something different. Everybody was weary – they had been there, relentless, for the entire afternoon. Yet the trembling ground and thunderous hollering during the “Unite” cheer, or the emphatic response to every strike shot, suggested otherwise.

In the final 2 frames, Fabregas, against the backdrop of intense supporters and his impeding injury, shot 2 last strikes, concluding the season resolutely. They achieved a respectable tallied pinfall of 2197, amidst an array of challenges and setbacks. 

The Swan Song

Hours later, when the match was finished, as the bowlers had exhausted their bodies and crowds had dispersed, there was a mix of feelings in the alley. Wearing their medals and holding their trophy, they posed cheerfully for the camera. 

But there was truly a poignant, bittersweet quality to their final game. The friendship forged over many team dinners and camps, the resilience grown from the many restrictions and limitations to practise, and the skill developed through studying technical knowledge together. These are things that the bowlers will have to leave the team with. 

“Winning this year is a legacy we want to leave behind,” a bowler told us. But more so, we think they left something greater for themselves. This is a story of these Rafflesian bowlers in their final years of schooling, but hopefully it remains a distinct memory for them well into their future journeys. Because the experience of preparing for, and performing in this NSG as a team – encouraging each other when they are down and cheering for each others successes – is too precious a memory to forget. 

After years of strikes, spares, and gutters, this final game marked the closure of a legacy – and what a way to end it off by striking gold.