PBA Slam 2019: Who Won the Ultimate Bowling Championship Showdown?
2025-11-17 12:00
The 2019 PBA Slam wasn't just another tournament—it felt like bowling's version of a heavyweight title fight condensed into one explosive evening. I remember settling into my couch with that particular mix of excitement and skepticism that only comes when the sport's biggest personalities clash under unique conditions. The air was thick with anticipation, both in the arena and in living rooms across the country, as four elite players prepared for a showdown that would test not just their skill but their mental fortitude in ways conventional tournaments rarely do.
Looking back at the broader context, professional bowling had been gradually shifting toward these made-for-TV spectacles. The PBA Tour had found renewed vitality through these high-stakes, condensed formats that appealed to both hardcore fans and casual viewers. What made the 2019 Slam particularly intriguing was the elimination of traditional qualifying rounds—this was purely about the final confrontation between established stars. The tournament format itself was brutal: shorter matches, quicker transitions, and immediate pressure that left no room for slow starters. As someone who's competed in amateur tournaments for over a decade, I can attest how this format amplifies every mistake—there's simply no time to recover from a bad frame.
When we examine the actual showdown, the numbers tell part of the story—Jason Belmonte's final match featured a staggering 258 game against EJ Tackett's 225—but they don't capture the emotional rollercoaster. What struck me most was Belmonte's transformation throughout the evening. He started noticeably tight, uncharacteristically missing a 7-pin in the third frame that had me groaning in sympathy. But then something shifted. Between the sixth and seventh frames, I watched him step away from the approach, take that deep breath we've all seen before, and reset. This is where that now-famous quote—"I'll take that pain and I'll take that regret anytime"—truly resonates. Belmonte later explained that moment was about embracing the discomfort rather than fighting it, a mindset I've tried to incorporate into my own game with mixed success.
The psychological dimension of this championship deserves deeper analysis. Unlike traditional tournaments where players have multiple games to find their rhythm, the Slam's compressed format meant every frame carried disproportionate weight. I've always believed that bowling at this level is 70% mental once technical skills are relatively equal, and the 2019 Slam proved this spectacularly. When Belmonte left that 7-10 split in the semifinal—what bowlers call the "bedposts" or "goalposts"—most of us watching assumed it would break him. Instead, we witnessed the fascinating phenomenon of a athlete using failure as fuel. His ability to channel that frustration into sharper focus reminded me of something my first coach always said: "The best bowlers don't avoid mistakes—they metabolize them."
From a technical perspective, the championship revealed fascinating adaptations. The lane conditions at the PBA Slam typically differ from standard tour events—often shorter oil patterns that reward different ball selections and angles. Belmonte's decision to switch to his urethane ball for the final two games struck me as either genius or desperation at the time, but in hindsight it was perfectly calculated. He sacrificed some striking power for better control, a tradeoff that ultimately paid off. Meanwhile, Tackett's powerful cranker style, which had served him so well throughout the season, seemed slightly less effective on the particular oil pattern used that night. It's these subtle technical adjustments that casual viewers might miss but that serious students of the game obsess over.
What continues to fascinate me about the 2019 PBA Slam outcome isn't just who won, but how they won. Belmonte's victory represented more than another trophy—it demonstrated a philosophical approach to competition that I find compelling. That willingness to embrace imperfection, to actually welcome the struggle, contradicts much conventional sports wisdom that emphasizes flawless execution. In my own much more modest bowling endeavors, I've found that resisting the urge to pretend mistakes didn't happen—instead acknowledging them fully—creates a more authentic competitive mindset. Belmonte's quote has become something of a personal mantra when I leave a stubborn 10-pin standing.
The legacy of the 2019 PBA Slam extends beyond that single evening. It reinforced bowling's evolution toward events that prioritize drama and personality alongside pure skill. For the sport's marketing, having a charismatic champion like Belmonce—with his unique two-handed style and thoughtful post-match reflections—provides invaluable exposure. Personally, I've noticed more recreational bowlers experimenting with two-handed approaches since his victory, a trickle-down effect that demonstrates his influence. The tournament also solidified the Belmonte-Tackett rivalry as one of the sport's most compelling narratives, giving fans like me specific matchups to anticipate each season.
Reflecting on that championship now, several years removed, what stays with me isn't just the spectacular strikes or the final score, but that moment of vulnerability and transformation. The 2019 PBA Slam winner didn't emerge despite the struggle, but because of it. In a culture that often prioritizes effortless dominance, there's something profoundly relatable about a champion who openly acknowledges—and even welcomes—the pain and regret inherent in competition. It's a lesson that transcends bowling, really. Whether you're holding a bowling ball or facing challenges in everyday life, the willingness to sit with discomfort rather than immediately resolve it might be the ultimate championship quality.