Striking Presence On a Roll : 500-Pound Man Makes Big Impression With Consecutive 300 Games

By JEFF MEYERS

July 31, 1992 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

Even before Emanuel (Squeak) Manson made the record books with his recent back-to-back 300 games, he was already a larger-than-life bowler at Ventura County alleys. Actually, he is larger than most vending machines, a mountainous man who weighs about 500 pounds and seemingly defies physics every time he lumbers to the line and rolls a strike.

“You don’t think a guy his size can bowl, but he’s a great bowler,” said Dave Pullen, who was bowling with Manson in a Wednesday league this month at Buena Lanes in Ventura.

Where does a 500-pound bowler sit? Anywhere he wants. Blocking half a corridor and most of the available light, Manson prepared to bowl for his team, the YDFC Gang (“Don’t ask what it stands for,” he said.) A stainless steel chair groaning under him, he slipped on his pre-tied, size-15 bowling shoes and removed a Purple Hammer ball from his bag. Then he rose, taking a few seconds to reach his full height of 6 feet 4 inches.

“Squeak’s hard to miss, isn’t he?” Pullen said, getting out of the way as Manson, 36, lurched by like a parade float.

Wearing an aqua-and-gray striped T-shirt and cutoff jeans, Manson stepped to the back line, freezing the action on the other lanes. His presence distorted perspective--his lane seemed too narrow, the 16-pound ball too small--and his form was unconventional, out of necessity.

“I don’t have much knee bend,” he said, “and I can’t do a smooth swing because I can’t come around clean. I have a certain style. I don’t try to bowl like everyone else.”

Taking six or seven short steps and releasing the ball with a flick of his right wrist, Manson looked like a kid shooting marbles. The ball landed eight feet beyond the foul line, powered down the alley and hooked into the pocket, splattering all 10 pins.

“I can live with that,” Manson said, slapping palms with his teammates.

Someday, Manson hopes to put out a video, the working title of which is “Bowling for the Big Guys.” Besides explaining bowling techniques customized for big guys, he wants to show them that size doesn’t have to be a handicap or a source of embarrassment.

“I’m overweight but I’m not ashamed of it,” Manson said. “I am what I am.”

A gentle giant with an easygoing, gregarious personality, Manson didn’t start to take bowling seriously until about 10 years ago. Growing up in Oxnard, he had bowled in youth leagues, averaging 160, but dropped bowling to play football at Channel Islands High and Ventura College.

“I was a decent athlete,” he said, “but not good enough to get any honors.”

Nicknamed Squeak as a baby because his crying sounded like a rusty hinge, Manson was normal size until adolescence. In high school, he grew to 6-2, 280; by college, he had added another two inches and 100 pounds. He feels comfortable carrying a lot of pounds but realizes his present weight is dangerously high.

“I haven’t had any health problems, but I know this is unhealthy,” he said. “Let’s say I’m attempting to take steps to go the other way.”

Manson’s girth isn’t the result of glandular malfunction “but more a combination of eating and drinking beer,” he said, quickly pointing out that “it’s not like I eat whole chickens or 18 eggs at a time.”

Nor does he watch his diet. What is his normal meal? “Oh, two Big Macs, two large fries and a large Coke,” he said.

Manson, who lives in Oxnard with his mother, was working as a courier at the U.S. Naval Air Station in Point Mugu when a friend asked him to join the base bowling team. He was 26 and had not bowled for several years. His first night in the league, he averaged 103. By the end of the year, he was averaging 160 and was hooked on bowling.

“Bowling is very important to me,” said Manson, who bowls every day. “It’s my entertainment and my exercise.”

And his claim to fame. “Say hi to Squeak,” a woman said, holding up her baby to Manson at Buena Lanes. A redheaded boy walked by and salaamed. A man came over and congratulated Manson, who seemed embarrassed by the attention. “A lot of bowlers are so much better than me and aren’t appreciated,” Manson said, “but the novelty of my situation is that I’m so large.”

His size does makes him an attraction, but it was his performance June 13 that has given a Bunyanesque stature to his reputation. That was the night Manson bowled the consecutive perfect games, then tacked a 244 onto his total for an 844 sanctioned series, breaking the Ventura County record set only three months before by his friend Joel Chaffee, 21, of Port Hueneme.

“I was in some kind of zone,” said Manson, who has had eight unsanctioned 300 games.

Right before he set the record, Manson was in the ozone. An unemployed salesman, he had fallen asleep at home after eating Mexican food for dinner and woke up a few minutes before his Video Tyme team was scheduled to bowl at Buena Lanes. Hurrying over in his ’78 Coupe de Ville, Manson wasn’t late but he was unable to warm up.

“It usually takes me a few frames to loosen up,” he said. “That’s what was so weird about (the perfect games).”

After Manson reeled off 24 strikes in a row, someone in the crowd yelled to him at the start of his third game, “Do it again.” Manson smiled back and said, “I’m just riding the train.” The train derailed in the first frame when he left the 4 and 7 pins. His total for the night: 33 strikes in 36 attempts.

“Yeah,” Manson said, patting his stomach, “I can actually bowl.”