Switching to Two-Handed Bowling: Is It Worth the Change?

Written By: Tony Ruocco | Written On: Saturday, March 29, 2025 | Updated On: Sunday, March 30, 2025

Converting from One-Handed to Two-Handed Bowling: A Comprehensive Guide

For bowlers contemplating a shift from the traditional one-handed style to the increasingly popular two-handed approach, the decision is more than a simple tweak—it’s a transformative journey that reshapes technique, mindset, and physical demands. Pioneered by stars like Jason Belmonte, two-handed bowling promises higher rev rates and explosive power, but it’s not a guaranteed path to success for everyone. This article dives deep into the conversion process, examines how age and body wear influence the switch, explores why scoring might not always improve, and weighs the pros and cons to help you decide if it’s worth the leap. Whether you’re a 25-year-old league bowler seeking a competitive edge or a 60-year-old veteran dodging thumb pain, understanding the challenges and rewards is crucial. The transition demands patience—often a year or more—but offers a fresh perspective on a timeless sport, provided you’re ready to navigate the hurdles.

The Conversion Process The conversion process begins with the basics: equipment adjustments. One-handed bowlers rely on a thumb hole for control, but two-handers often skip it entirely, favoring a ball drilled for two finger holes or a loose thumb grip. This shift alone can feel alien—imagine gripping a 15-pound ball with just fingertips, no anchor. Visit a pro shop to re-drill your favorite ball or invest in a new one with a layout suited for higher hook potential, as two-handers thrive on aggressive spin. Next, rethink your stance. One-handers stand tall, arm extended, ball swinging like a pendulum; two-handers crouch low, knees bent, spine tilted forward, both hands cradling the ball near the chest. It’s a power stance—think of a sprinter coiling before the gun. The approach changes too: swap the smooth four-step walk for a dynamic five-step sequence, often with a skip-step to unleash torque. For a one-hander used to gliding, this feels like learning to dance. The release is the biggest hurdle—your non-dominant hand now guides the spin while the dominant hand drives the shot, flipping the one-handed script where the thumb dictates control. Start with stationary drills: stand at the foul line, practice cradling and releasing without steps, focusing on hand positioning. Then, add movement—walk slowly, aim at the ten board, and vocalize where your ball crosses (e.g., “nine” or “eleven”) to build awareness. My friend Mark, a 45-year-old 190-average one-hander, spent six months on footwork alone, stumbling like a toddler before his two-handed hook clicked. Expect a year of trial and error—300 practice games—to feel natural.

Age and Body Wear and Tear Age shapes this journey in profound ways, as the physical demands of two-handed bowling differ starkly from its one-handed cousin. Younger bowlers in their 20s or 30s adapt faster, their bodies primed for the style’s athleticism. Belmonte, who started two-handed as a kid, still dominates in his 40s, his flexibility and strength intact. But for older bowlers—say, 50s or 60s—the switch can be a double-edged sword. Take my 64-year-old coaching client, Jim: he ditched one-handed bowling to escape chronic thumb arthritis, a common woe as joints stiffen with age. Two-handed play freed his hand, letting him bowl pain-free for the first time in a decade, but after three games, his lower back ached from the torso twist and his knees groaned from the skip-step’s jolt. One-handed bowling hammers the elbow and shoulder—think repetitive strain from years of swinging—but two-handed spreads the load across the hips, spine, and legs. It’s less a fix than a trade-off. Biomechanics tell the tale: two-handers rotate their torsos 30-40 degrees more per shot, per a 2019 study, risking lumbar strain over time. Yet no hard data shows they break down faster—Belmonte’s longevity suggests conditioning matters more than style. Older converts need a plan: stretch daily (hamstrings, lower back), strengthen the core, and limit sessions to avoid overtaxing joints. A 55-year-old league bowler I know thrives two-handed after yoga, while Jim pops ibuprofen after long nights. Age doesn’t bar the switch, but it demands smarter prep.

Scoring Potential—Not Always Better Scoring potential is the siren call of two-handed bowling—rev rates topping 400 dwarf the 300 of one-handers, promising strike parades. But don’t bet on instant gains. Higher revs mean bigger hooks, sure, but also wilder misses. Mark, my 45-year-old guinea pig, saw his 190 average dip to 170 for months, his ball veering into gutters as he wrestled control. Spare shooting takes a hit too—two-handers, with their spin-heavy style, often flub corner pins like the 7 or 10, lacking the straight-shot finesse one-handers master with plastic balls. I watched a 210-average one-hander switch and peak at 195 after a year, his scores plateauing as spares eluded him. Lane conditions amplify this: two-handers shred dry lanes, turning the 1-3 pocket into a strike factory, but on heavy oil, their balls skid past the breakpoint, leaving splits. One-handers adjust with subtle wrist tweaks; two-handers overhaul speed or angle, a steeper curve. A local league study showed 30% of converts never reclaim their old averages, bogged down by inconsistency. Strikes dazzle—Belmonte’s 300s prove it—but execution trumps style. Two-handers might shine on TV, yet a one-hander’s steady 220 often beats a two-hander’s erratic 200. It’s a gamble: master the chaos, and scores soar; falter, and you’re stuck rebuilding.

Pros and Cons of Switching So, should you switch? The pros tempt any bowler. Two-handed play delivers unmatched power—revs that snap pins like twigs—and sidesteps thumb issues, a lifeline for aging hands swollen from decades of gripping. It’s cost-effective too—no thumb inserts or tape, just a ball and grit. Versatility shines on tricky patterns; two-handers carve lanes one-handers can’t touch. But cons loom large. The learning curve is brutal—expect a year of gutter balls and bruised ego. Physically, it’s taxing—spine tilt and hip rotation strain the body, a risk past 40 when recovery slows. Spare woes persist, denting averages, and the style’s flash can feel gimmicky to purists who prize one-handed elegance. A 30-year-old chasing pro dreams might thrive, practicing 20 hours weekly to harness the hook; a 60-year-old casual bowler risks sore hips and stalled scores for little payoff. My buddy Mark loves the power but curses spares; Jim savors thumb relief but dreads back twinges. Pros dazzle—power, pain relief—but cons—effort, wear—demand reckoning. It’s your call: crave a challenge and have the time, dive in; value comfort and consistency, stay put.

Conclusion Converting from one-handed to two-handed bowling is a bold reboot—retooling your game, rethinking your body, and redefining success. Young bowlers might revel in the spin, older ones trade elbow pain for back strain, with wear varying by prep, not just style. Scoring can spike or slump, tied to your grind, not the technique’s hype. Pros like revs and thumb freedom gleam, but cons—physical toll, steep curve—cast shadows. Should you switch? A 25-year-old with years to refine might hit 230s; a 70-year-old retiree might hobble off at 150. I’ve seen a 35-year-old one-hander jump from 180 to 210 two-handed, obsessed with mastering two-handed bowling, while Jim, 64, hovers at 160, content but creaky. Bowling’s charm is choice—neither style reigns supreme. If you’ve got the drive and a year to spare, two-handed offers a thrilling reset. If stability and ease win, one-handed endures. Pick what fits your body, goals, and soul—then roll with it.