Sports Page Job Is Right Up His Alley

Mas Mihara is Mr. Sports Page.

The 75-year-old has worked at the Valley bowling center since it opened almost 40 years ago.

“Mas is the institution,” says die-hard bowler Terry Friberg, now 47. “When I first met him, I was a little kid in junior bowling … people always ask about Mas.”

Talk to anyone who bowls much at Sports Page Lanes, and they all know Mihara. His shy smile and quiet manner are as much a part of the place as the ball returns.

Funny thing is, Mihara’s job really lies behind the lanes, where no one goes but the mechanics.

He’ll head down the walkway right smack in the middle of the lanes, balls racing him on each side, some bowlers gawking and wondering where the heck he’s going. He opens a door leading to a dark hallway lined with 40 black contraptions that look like giant washing machines turned inside-out.

“These have been my friends since 1958,” Mihara says, nodding toward the pin setters, his slender face brightening into a wide grin. He’s been there as long as those machines have.

“They know when he walks out the back door,” Friberg says. The pin setters seem to break down only when Mihara is gone.

That being the case, people are glad Mihara is there. But though he’s seen two other Sports Page owners come and go, Mihara led several lives before coming to this alley in the Valley.

He was born in Los Angeles, and was raised in the Yakima Valley. It was a large farm family of five boys and three girls. Just after graduating high school, Mihara was taken with his family to a Japanese American internment camp in Wyoming during World War II. Mihara was allowed to get a job working for a local farmer, and ended up staying much in the camp only when the sugar beet harvest was over. In winters, he worked as a fireman in the camp.

After the war ended, Mihara moved back to the Northwest. He did agricultural work in the East Farms area of the Spokane Valley. Later he bought into a cleaning business in Ritzville, which he eventually took over completely. After running that for five years, he sold the cleaning business and moved back to the Valley.

After six months of working at the shiny-new bowling center, he was made head mechanic. And though he just works there three days a week now, the title stuck.

“They never did take the title away,” Mihara says. “They just cut down on my responsibilities.”

Doesn’t matter, co-workers say. He’s the man.

“There’s never been a person who walked out of that door who’s been upset (with him),” says L.M. Baker, who services video games at Sports Page. “I can’t do that for one week, and he’s done that for 40 years.”

Mihara smiles with embarrassment at the sentiment. “Oh, I just try to be like you,” he tells Baker.

They do give him a tough time, though. “This is Mr. Humble,” says Eddie Lehinger, who has worked alongside Mihara for 17 years. She kids him, telling him she’s found another pair of his glasses lost in a pin setter. He smiles, and admits that happens sometimes.

“He’s the best friend I ever had,” Lehinger says.

“Well how come you always chew me out all the time?”

Just to welcome him to the shift, she says. “I jump start his heart every day.”

The never-married Mihara plans to take it easy one day. He’ll fish, work on his ‘54 Corvette and garden. “That’s what I’m going to do when I retire.”

At that, Friberg snaps to attention. He says Mihara complains about being only part-time as it is.

“This place is his home … he’ll never retire.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Photo