THE hiss of the pop top, the goop of the nachos, the whirl of minimum-wage employment. Welcome to bowling, the sport of knaves.

The dork factor is cheerfully acknowledged by the hip documentary “A League of Ordinary Gentlemen,” a witty look at the sport’s quest for cool after the entire Pro Bowlers’ Association was sold to some Microsoft millionaires for $5 million.

The new CEO is Steve Miller, one of those marketing geniuses who, in the words of one player, “could sell ice cubes to Eskimos.” But can he sell beer to lazy fat men?

Miller gets the sport, yanked from its ABC Saturday afternoon slot in 1997, back on ESPN, but his corporate sponsorships (Banquet chicken, Odor-Eaters) just make everything that much funnier. He’s the villain of the piece, uncorking wine in his Japanese-themed, non-wheeled home while the players, who pay their own travel expenses, feast on bologna in their RVs.

If there is a poetry to losing, then this film has as much as the collected works of John Milton.

Among the glum hopefuls competing for (oxymoron alert) bowling glory are Wayne Webb, a guy in an American-flag shirt, earrings and quadruple-pleated pants currently employed in the bowling-ball-polishing industry in Las Vegas.

He looks back on his missteps with regret: “Back in the ’80s, I did a lot of partying,” he says. “I was getting into karaoke.”

There’s Walter Ray Williams, the Bo Jackson of our story: “He’s in the hall of fame for bowling. He’s in the hall of fame for horseshoes.” An entire room of his house – not a kid’s room – is decorated in a Winnie the Pooh motif.

The star, though, is Pete Weber, designated bad boy (he motions to his crotch and thrusts his hips after a strike, a fantastically unsexy move), who once earned a suspension for conduct unbecoming a professional. (What’d he do? Get caught getting drunk on Bordeaux instead of Schlitz?)

His rivalry with the G-rated Williams is a dream showdown, a match made in Milwaukee. Win or lose, though, Williams will still have his lovely wife, he will still have his room with a Pooh, and he will still have to climb on top of his motor home to scrape the ice off with a shovel.

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A LEAGUE OF ORDINARY GENTLEMEN

[***] (Three stars)

So unhip it’s cool. Running time: 98 minutes. Not rated (profanity). At the Sunshine, Houston Street., near First Avenue.