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Striking photographs document a time-honored pastime unknown to many outside of New England.

Candlepin bowling is hard.So hard, in fact, that no one has ever bowled a perfect game.The pins are tall and skinny, the balls are small enough to fit in a player’s hand, and the fallen pins are not cleared between rolls.Originating in Worcester, Massachusetts, in the late 19th century and played today mostly in New England and eastern Canada, the game has a rich and colorful history.In the days before automation, sure-footed pin boys manually reset the pins and returned the balls.A long-running, top-rated Boston television show regularly transformed unassuming candlepinners into regional celebrities.And the game has something called a Half Worcester.Author and photographer Susan Mara Bregman bowled at dozens of candlepin centers, combed through dusty archives, and interviewed industry insiders to create this affectionate look at one of America’s quirkiest pastimes.

The number 21 may be lucky in cards, but it is very unlucky for Western Pennsylvania sports fans. Only the Pittsburgh Steelers allow a player to wear this sacred number, while to the rest of the region's franchises the number means heartbreak. The Penguins retired it after budding superstar Michel Briere died in 1971 following an automobile accident. Hall of Fame Pirate shortstop Arky Vaughan, who drowned in 1952 while trying to save a friend, also wore unlucky 21. The tragic story of Roberto Clemente is well known and caused the team to retire the cursed number. A diverse group of Pittsburgh writers and sports lovers present those stories and more in twenty-one tales of Western Pennsylvania sports sorrow.

Many things compose the Boston Marathon-Olympians, record holders, Greek gold-dipped wreaths, running hamburgers and fries, statues, snow, trailblazers, and Heartbreak Hill. Paul C. Clerici's Images of Modern America: The Boston Marathon tells the expansive story of the oldest continuously run marathon and showcases over 165 images that span the decades. From Clarence DeMar, both Johnny Kelleys, Roberta "Bobbi" Gibb, and John Hancock to Bill Rodgers, Joan Benoit Samuelson, Ibrahim Hussein, Bob Hall, and Ernst van Dyk; from Kathrine Switzer's literal run-in with Jock Semple to the 1970s running boom, the centennial celebration, and Meb Keflezighi's restoration victory, this global footrace and gathering of community is presented in a display of vibrant, historical, and exciting images, some of which from private collections rarely seen and some never-before published.

For generations of small-town Texans, the school gymnasium was the hub of the community. If it was a Tuesday night in Texline, most folks could be found in the old tin barn of a gym, rooting for their Tornadoes against the arch-rival Adrian Matadors. Transcending the role of a sports arena, the gym also provided a place to gather in celebration or shelter in crisis. Sadly, with the dramatic reduction of school districts around the state, many of the polished floorboards that once hosted graduations and beauty pageants now splinter beneath the weight of storage, farm equipment and guano-covered junk. From the pickup basketball game Elvis played in Hawkins to the tragic account of four Ennis war heroes, Jackie McBroom recounts stories from these beloved halls.