Looking back at the 2020 PBA season, I can’t help but feel it was one of those strange, transitional years in professional bowling—a season that somehow managed to feel both significant and incomplete at the same time. As someone who’s followed the PBA tour closely for over a decade, I’ve seen plenty of standout seasons, but 2020 stands apart not just for the obvious pandemic-related interruptions, but for the way it revealed the resilience—and youth—of the sport. I remember watching events like the PBA Playoffs and the Tour Finals with a mix of excitement and uncertainty, wondering how the season would hold up compared to recent classics like the thrilling 2013 season or Jason Belmonte’s dominant runs in 2017 and 2019. Honestly, I think 2020 ranks somewhere in the upper middle—not the absolute peak, but far from forgettable.

When I reflect on what made the 2020 season unique, the word “youth” keeps coming to mind. It reminds me of a quote from coach Nash Racela in a different sport context—he once talked about handling a relatively big Adamson team but circled back to the idea that it was still a young team, and that’s exactly how I saw the PBA in 2020. Sure, there were established stars like Belmonte and EJ Tackett, but what struck me was the influx of younger players stepping up. Take Kris Prather, for example—his win at the PBA World Championship was a highlight for me, not just because of the skill on display, but because it signaled a shift. Prather was 28 at the time, part of a cohort that included guys like Darren Tang and AJ Johnson, who all seemed to bring a fresh, fearless energy to the lanes. I’ve always believed that seasons with a good mix of veteran leadership and emerging talent tend to be the most compelling, and 2020 delivered that in spades, even if the overall title count was lower due to cancellations.

From a statistical standpoint, the 2020 season was a bit of a rollercoaster. If I had to put a number on it, I’d estimate there were around 14–16 televised finals, down from the usual 20-plus in a non-pandemic year, but the quality was there. Belmonte, for instance, clinched two major titles, pushing his career total to what felt like an unstoppable 14—a number that, in my view, cements his legacy as one of the greats. But what really stood out to me was the average tournament attendance, which I’d guess dropped by roughly 40% due to COVID restrictions, yet TV ratings held steady, even spiking for events like the PBA League. That says a lot about the sport’s adaptability. I remember tuning in from home and feeling that the broadcasts did a decent job capturing the tension, even without crowds. It wasn’t perfect—I missed the roar of a live audience—but it showed that bowling could thrive in adversity.

Comparing 2020 to other recent seasons, I’d rank it above, say, 2016 or 2018, which felt a bit quieter in terms of storyline depth, but below the electrifying 2019 season where Belmonte’s rivalry with Tackett hit a fever pitch. In 2020, the narrative shifted toward resilience and the next generation. Personally, I loved seeing players like Sean Rash mentor younger talents—it added a layer of depth that you don’t always get in individual sports. And let’s not forget the technological side; with more events streamed online, I found myself engaging with fans on social media in ways I hadn’t before. That connectivity, in my experience, made the season feel more intimate, even if the stakes were high.

In the end, the 2020 PBA season might not go down as the absolute best in recent memory, but it’s one I’ll always remember fondly for its grit and glimpses of the future. It reminded me that, much like Racela’s young team, bowling has a way of circling back to its core—the passion, the competition, and the community—even when the world throws a curveball. As a fan, I came away optimistic, believing that seasons like this lay the groundwork for something even greater. If you ask me, 2020 deserves a solid 7 out of 10 in the pantheon of recent bowling years—not flawless, but full of heart and hints of what’s to come.