lol posed to be this 
Win a free Jay Flowers Style Cue Case
- Thread starter JB Cases
- Start date
This is the list of AZ members who have entered this contest. If I missed anyone please let me know.
Later I will draw for the free 1x2 Flowers case randomly from thes 47 members.
In a few days I will let you know who won the main prize of a customized Flowers case. It's a hard choice with so many good entries on here, funny, inspiring, and touching.
Thunderball - I thought you said that you are playing because you are "stuck" and that was hilarious. Almost won right there.
I am stuck too. It's a real love/hate relationship. Pool is the high you can't buy. The only way to get that ecstatic feeling is to earn it through great playing.
Thanks EVERYONE for playing along and sharing your stories.
John
The List:
BigDogatLarge
lefty84
poolpro
frankncali
softshot
sygfrid
joeboxer
o2bacs
cajunbarboxplyr
zombiemodder
CocoboloCowboy
larrynj1
rossaroni
alstl
gregoryg
rayjay
Scott Lee
12squared
ridewiththewind
grindz
trustyrusty
cor
AnitoKid
Ky Boy
DonFelix
Cornerman
iba7467
JoeyA
JimS
Fast Lenny
Milo
Brian in VA
suprnva
Smorgass Bored
Thunderball
Zud
Koop
Masirib5
JMW
krbsailing
gnaroz
The King
DavidMNienow
Rak9up
acedotcom
shir
billyjack
Later I will draw for the free 1x2 Flowers case randomly from thes 47 members.
In a few days I will let you know who won the main prize of a customized Flowers case. It's a hard choice with so many good entries on here, funny, inspiring, and touching.
Thunderball - I thought you said that you are playing because you are "stuck" and that was hilarious. Almost won right there.
I am stuck too. It's a real love/hate relationship. Pool is the high you can't buy. The only way to get that ecstatic feeling is to earn it through great playing.
Thanks EVERYONE for playing along and sharing your stories.
John
The List:
BigDogatLarge
lefty84
poolpro
frankncali
softshot
sygfrid
joeboxer
o2bacs
cajunbarboxplyr
zombiemodder
CocoboloCowboy
larrynj1
rossaroni
alstl
gregoryg
rayjay
Scott Lee
12squared
ridewiththewind
grindz
trustyrusty
cor
AnitoKid
Ky Boy
DonFelix
Cornerman
iba7467
JoeyA
JimS
Fast Lenny
Milo
Brian in VA
suprnva
Smorgass Bored
Thunderball
Zud
Koop
Masirib5
JMW
krbsailing
gnaroz
The King
DavidMNienow
Rak9up
acedotcom
shir
billyjack
A
a_susie_cue
Guest
Why do I play pool? The first reason I play pool was because for over 15 years I taught special education. By the end of the day, I needed something to drive me crazier. Pool is like teaching, every game is a new challenge. You really don't know what you are going to get. Once in a while, you may have an easy day however, it is more often than not that there will be some tricky spots you have to find a way to "run out" or play safe.
I have always been a person who loves competition when it comes to sports and activities. Pool has always given me that challenge.
Another reason, there were some many interesting and different people who play pool. It was nice to have a plethora of people instead of a cookie cutter image every day like I saw when I was teaching.
Another thing about pool is when you are a woman who is new to the pool scene, all the guys act as if they want to help you improve your game. I was a little naive when I first entered the pool hall scene. It was still nice to have so many people appear to be giving.
The last reason I really got involved in pool is because it is a game that can be played year round. It is one of the more affordable hobbies/sports/activities (at least in the area where I live). It is a game where it is ok to make a mistake when you are practicing.
Eventually, I would get lost in the game because I would be focused on the table and the patterns (I did teach Geometry for quite some time). It became a stress release for me and a natural high when I would win a tournament no matter how big or small the field was. I still get excited from a break and run or an 8/9 ball break.
Cue ball control is a beautiful thing.
Thanks for the raffle entry,
Susie L
I have always been a person who loves competition when it comes to sports and activities. Pool has always given me that challenge.
Another reason, there were some many interesting and different people who play pool. It was nice to have a plethora of people instead of a cookie cutter image every day like I saw when I was teaching.
Another thing about pool is when you are a woman who is new to the pool scene, all the guys act as if they want to help you improve your game. I was a little naive when I first entered the pool hall scene. It was still nice to have so many people appear to be giving.
The last reason I really got involved in pool is because it is a game that can be played year round. It is one of the more affordable hobbies/sports/activities (at least in the area where I live). It is a game where it is ok to make a mistake when you are practicing.
Eventually, I would get lost in the game because I would be focused on the table and the patterns (I did teach Geometry for quite some time). It became a stress release for me and a natural high when I would win a tournament no matter how big or small the field was. I still get excited from a break and run or an 8/9 ball break.
Cue ball control is a beautiful thing.
Thanks for the raffle entry,
Susie L
I play pool for the rush and love of the game.I was into drugs and alcohol when I was young and wish I had found pool then to take up my time because they say idle time is the devil's tool's.I have found alot of joy in the game and peace of mind,sure beats paying $50 an hour for a shrink.The people I have met in pool have been some wonderful people and true characters whom without the game I would never have met.
One of those people was my best friend Joe Sabia who taught me the game and brought me from a D player to a B player in less then a years time.He sadly passed a few months ago but I have memories that I can think of and stories to tell when I get older to my son and his children one day.At the moment I do my best to try to give back to the sport which has given me the calm I need and the outlet to get that rush on the square without doing something wrong that can harm me or others.If I did not have this game I am unsure what I would do but I can tell you it might not be healthy or good.I love pool.
One of those people was my best friend Joe Sabia who taught me the game and brought me from a D player to a B player in less then a years time.He sadly passed a few months ago but I have memories that I can think of and stories to tell when I get older to my son and his children one day.At the moment I do my best to try to give back to the sport which has given me the calm I need and the outlet to get that rush on the square without doing something wrong that can harm me or others.If I did not have this game I am unsure what I would do but I can tell you it might not be healthy or good.I love pool.
The "solving angles" fascination I never grew out of
A young boy, 8 years old, just arrived home from school. He drops his books down on the table in the den, and begins to pace around the house, waiting for his policeman father to come home from his shift. He's anxious, because he can't wait for the daily ritual that is his reward. But then this young boy remembers that in order to get the "reward," his father will first ask him if he did his homework! This young boy scrambles back to the den, cracks open the books, and hurriedly completes his homework. Just as he is completing his last assignment, he hears the keys in the front door, and his father walks in, the billyclub attached to his gear belt clanking against the doorframe as his father maneuvers to take his coat off. As he makes his way to his son, he takes off the gear belt and is holding it in his hand, ready to place it in the safe once he passes his son on the way to the bedroom. As he passes his son, he looks over his son's shoulder and takes a peek at his son's progress through his homework. Nodding in acknowledgment that his son is just about done with his homework, he makes his way to the bedroom and changes into regular clothes.
On the way back from the bedroom, he notices the books are closed and his son is standing, waiting for him. "Are you done with your homework, son?" he asks. This is a rhetorical question he already knows the answer for, but he wants to hear the answer nonetheless. "Yes, Dad, can we go now?" his son replies. His father loves to hear the enthusiasm. They set out together, the son walking side by side with his father down the sidewalk to the local bar. It is a bar that is a police hangout; it is dark, smoky, not the most clean place in the world, and has a very, very distinctive smell -- like a mixture of old cigarettes, oak wood paneling, leather police jackets, and beer.
But gosh, how the little boy loves going there! The men know the little boy by name, and greet him enthusiastically as soon as he enters. "Hey Seanie boy! Nice to see you little chap. Want a Coke?" the bartender asks in a thick Irish brogue. That's a silly question, of course, and the little boy eagerly accepts. Psssssssssssssshhhh.... clack! Ah, that sound of the tap -- the Coke being sprayed into the glass -- and the bartender enthusiastically setting the glass down at the edge of the bar for the boy to come up and reach it. As the boy begins to sip his Coke, he turns around for the real object of his fascination -- the pool table in the corner of the bar. Two men are already playing at the table. "Go on, here, put this quarter up on the table" says his Dad to his son. The boy eagerly accepts, and looks at the shiny new quarter his father just handed him. He notices the quarter is very shiny, and the year says 1974 -- this quarter is brand-new! His heart begins to pound as he approaches the pool table. Fortunately, he recognizes the two men playing at the table. They greet him just as enthusiastically as the bartender. One elbows the other, nods his head towards the little boy, and says, "Hey Pat, uh-oh, the little shark is here!" The boy patiently watches, and upon finishing their game, the little boy takes his quarter and lays it down, face up, into the circular cut-out on the weird, "bent tongue" contraption on the side of the pool table. With both thumbs on the upwards-bent portion of that tongue thing, he pushes hard into the table, pauses for a second until he hears that ball movement ceases inside the table, and then lets that tongue contraption spring back out. The crashing flurry of balls hits the wood lip at the edge of the ball tray. The boy notices that this noise has attracted the attention of the patrons of the bar, and they're watching him -- he notices his Dad amongst them, watching him with a knowing smile. The little boy walks over to the foot end of the table, places the wood triangle upon the green felt, and begins to arrange the balls within the triangle. As he's doing this, he hears commotion at the bar. "I got ten on the kid!" "Five on the kid for me." "Five on Pat!" "Twenty on my son!" The boy has no idea what these men, or his father, are talking about. But he knows the men enjoy watching him play, and this little boy just loves to play; math is his favorite subject, and the little boy loves solving the problem of how have one ball strike the other in a way that cause the other ball to roll towards and drop into an opening on the table. He loves the angles!
"Ca-crash!! clackety-clack, clack, clack..." is the next sound the boy hears as the man breaks the rack. But no ball drops into a pocket! The boy analyzes the table for a second, and notices this was a good break -- all the balls are spread out nicely. However, he notices the 8-ball has rested up against the foot rail, at about the second diamond. The boy is just tall enough for the pool table (the top of the table is just under chest-high for him) and he starts his pattern of sinking the striped balls. He has to shoot sidearm, since that's the only way he can get his elbow up above the edge of the table, and he has a very light stroke. "Eleven ball, side pocket." He gently taps the cue ball towards the 11-ball, and enjoys watching the cue-ball meet the 11-ball at the correct angle to cut it in the side pocket. The 11-ball roll towards the side pocket and drops in. "Yesssss!!" the boy says quietly, and walks around the table to the next shot. "Pat, I think you're in trouble, mate! The little guy's a shark!" says one man to the man that the little boy is playing. The little boy continues walking around the table, gently tapping the cue-ball towards the striped balls, and watches eagerly to see the results when the cue-ball meets the object ball. He loves solving angle problems! He once again hears commotion at the bar, as the men are raising their bets, but he has no idea what language this is that these men are speaking. He pockets the last striped ball into the side pocket, but then realizes he forgot where the 8-ball is! His opponent, Pat, smiles, realizing that he will get a turn at the table, afterall.
The little boy stands there, pondering what to do. The cue ball is on the rail near the side pocket, about a diamond away nearer to the head string, where it came to rest after he tapped the last striped ball into the nearest side pocket. The 8-ball is on the end rail, middle diamond. There's a very severe angle there, seemingly almost 90 degrees to this little boy. He knows this is a very tough shot. He knows nothing about bank shots, only about solving angles that make the ball head straight towards a pocket. He hears his Dad call out to him, "Remember what I showed you about that kind of shot, son. Ball, and rubber of the cushion, at the very same time. Put the cue-ball right there." There's another commotion at the bar, but this time it's hushed -- the little boy hears the men whispering to each other. "8-ball, corner pocket," the little boy says as he indicates by pointing at the pocket with the cue. "Oh, I gotta see this!" says his opponent, Pat. He analyzes the shot, and gets down, carefully aiming, with his hand in an open bridge, fist-like, thumb slightly sticking out. He sights down the cue, placing his chin literally on top of it, and pauses with the tip of the cue almost touching the cue-ball. Concentrating, he aims the cue-ball right where his father had showed him -- to make the cue-ball hit the 8-ball and the rubber of the cushion at the same time, and give it some oomph. There is a hushed silence at the bar, as the boy pulls the cue back, pauses, and pushes the cue forward with as much controlled strength as he can muster, all the while concentrating on keeping that cue aimed towards that "magic spot" where it needs to hit the 8-ball and the cushion at the same time. Poonk! -- that sound the cue makes when he hits the cue-ball with force. The little boy stays right in place, looking down the table in line where the cue-ball is traveling. He's watching to see if the cue-ball will hit right in that "magic spot" his father showed him. Everyone at the bar rears up and watches in disbelief. The next sound heard is two sounds mixed together, a thump and a click simultaneously. The cue-ball bounces off that "magic spot" he was aiming at, and rolls down the middle of the table. The black 8-ball, meanwhile, rolls sideways, seemingly end over end, the "8" printed on the ball appearing and disappearing, towards the corner pocket. It starts to slow down as it approaches the pocket, and the little boy is worried that he didn't hit it hard enough. The 8-ball enters the mouth of the pocket, sitting momentarily right at the precipace where the slate ends and the chasm of the pocket begins. The boy anxiously cheers for the ball to fall, and so does the rest of the bar -- "Look at this, LOOK AT THIS... oooooooooooooo... YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!" The 8-ball rolls one additional eighth-inch and drops into the pocket. The bar expodes in a frenzy, people cheering, tapping their glasses on the bar top, some even running over to the little boy, grabbing him by the shoulders, telling him what a fantastic shot he just made. His opponent, Pat, also comes over and shakes his hand. "Gosh, I never had an 8-year old kid run a rack on me!" "What a shot!" The little boy is shaking in disbelief at what he just did -- he just ran a rack of 8-ball, something he'd never done before.
That year was 1974. To this day, I remember that day like it was yesterday. Although addicted to the game of pool ever since my father started teaching me the game in that bar, I'd permanently been "infected" with the pool bug ever since then. On and off in middle and high school, I'd make my way to the local game room after doing my homework, and played pool with a clique of boys that I befriended via this wonderful game. I was one of the best in the area; only one other boy had the same skills I did at pocketing balls, and making the cue-ball "walk and talk around the table" (as we came to call it). Whenever this boy and I matched up, it was like World War III -- it seemed the neighborhood poured into the game room when word spread that we'd just matched up.
I continued playing the game right through my 8-year stint in the U.S. Navy, stationed about the U.S.S. Briscoe (DD-977) at Norfolk, VA. Naturally, I couldn't play while the ship was deployed at sea, but whenever we pulled into port, I was itching to play and immediately grabbed my pool case, waiting on the quarterdeck, when the ship was mooring into port. I was always one of the first ones bounding down the gangplank. If the port was our homeport in Norfolk, I headed right over to Q-Masters, which, during that time (middle 1980s) was located on 6214 Sewell's Point Road, Norfolk, VA. It was my favorite place, and I spent many late evenings and nights playing on the tables in that back room, which had a row of benches for railbirds. Won and lost a lot of money there, but always, ALWAYS, had an enjoyable time. Got to know Barry Behrman on a first name basis, but with all the changes that Q-Masters has gone through (including starting up the now famous U.S. Open), I doubt he might remember me. (Barry, if you're reading this, this is Sean, the Navy guy that very nearly lived there in the middle to late 1980s, once in a while showing up in his dress blues, shot with a couple very expensive Meuccis that he bought from you, and "shot a mean stick" as you once complimented me.) I disappeared from the Tidewater/Norfolk area around early 1990, after my term was complete, and headed back home to NY.
After my stint in the Navy, I started my career -- the very thing I'm doing today, information technologies. Unfortunately, because my career was so hectic, I took at 14-year hiatus from this game I love. My cues found themselves buried at the back of a closet, not seeing the light of day until about three years ago, when the "pool bug" was biting so hard, I couldn't not play any longer.
The "bug" is with me now, something fierce. I have a lot of time to make up for. And you know what? That little boy is still there, still as fascinated as ever with solving angles using two spheres.
Hope this was enjoyable reading!
Warmest regards to everyone,
-Sean
A young boy, 8 years old, just arrived home from school. He drops his books down on the table in the den, and begins to pace around the house, waiting for his policeman father to come home from his shift. He's anxious, because he can't wait for the daily ritual that is his reward. But then this young boy remembers that in order to get the "reward," his father will first ask him if he did his homework! This young boy scrambles back to the den, cracks open the books, and hurriedly completes his homework. Just as he is completing his last assignment, he hears the keys in the front door, and his father walks in, the billyclub attached to his gear belt clanking against the doorframe as his father maneuvers to take his coat off. As he makes his way to his son, he takes off the gear belt and is holding it in his hand, ready to place it in the safe once he passes his son on the way to the bedroom. As he passes his son, he looks over his son's shoulder and takes a peek at his son's progress through his homework. Nodding in acknowledgment that his son is just about done with his homework, he makes his way to the bedroom and changes into regular clothes.
On the way back from the bedroom, he notices the books are closed and his son is standing, waiting for him. "Are you done with your homework, son?" he asks. This is a rhetorical question he already knows the answer for, but he wants to hear the answer nonetheless. "Yes, Dad, can we go now?" his son replies. His father loves to hear the enthusiasm. They set out together, the son walking side by side with his father down the sidewalk to the local bar. It is a bar that is a police hangout; it is dark, smoky, not the most clean place in the world, and has a very, very distinctive smell -- like a mixture of old cigarettes, oak wood paneling, leather police jackets, and beer.
But gosh, how the little boy loves going there! The men know the little boy by name, and greet him enthusiastically as soon as he enters. "Hey Seanie boy! Nice to see you little chap. Want a Coke?" the bartender asks in a thick Irish brogue. That's a silly question, of course, and the little boy eagerly accepts. Psssssssssssssshhhh.... clack! Ah, that sound of the tap -- the Coke being sprayed into the glass -- and the bartender enthusiastically setting the glass down at the edge of the bar for the boy to come up and reach it. As the boy begins to sip his Coke, he turns around for the real object of his fascination -- the pool table in the corner of the bar. Two men are already playing at the table. "Go on, here, put this quarter up on the table" says his Dad to his son. The boy eagerly accepts, and looks at the shiny new quarter his father just handed him. He notices the quarter is very shiny, and the year says 1974 -- this quarter is brand-new! His heart begins to pound as he approaches the pool table. Fortunately, he recognizes the two men playing at the table. They greet him just as enthusiastically as the bartender. One elbows the other, nods his head towards the little boy, and says, "Hey Pat, uh-oh, the little shark is here!" The boy patiently watches, and upon finishing their game, the little boy takes his quarter and lays it down, face up, into the circular cut-out on the weird, "bent tongue" contraption on the side of the pool table. With both thumbs on the upwards-bent portion of that tongue thing, he pushes hard into the table, pauses for a second until he hears that ball movement ceases inside the table, and then lets that tongue contraption spring back out. The crashing flurry of balls hits the wood lip at the edge of the ball tray. The boy notices that this noise has attracted the attention of the patrons of the bar, and they're watching him -- he notices his Dad amongst them, watching him with a knowing smile. The little boy walks over to the foot end of the table, places the wood triangle upon the green felt, and begins to arrange the balls within the triangle. As he's doing this, he hears commotion at the bar. "I got ten on the kid!" "Five on the kid for me." "Five on Pat!" "Twenty on my son!" The boy has no idea what these men, or his father, are talking about. But he knows the men enjoy watching him play, and this little boy just loves to play; math is his favorite subject, and the little boy loves solving the problem of how have one ball strike the other in a way that cause the other ball to roll towards and drop into an opening on the table. He loves the angles!
"Ca-crash!! clackety-clack, clack, clack..." is the next sound the boy hears as the man breaks the rack. But no ball drops into a pocket! The boy analyzes the table for a second, and notices this was a good break -- all the balls are spread out nicely. However, he notices the 8-ball has rested up against the foot rail, at about the second diamond. The boy is just tall enough for the pool table (the top of the table is just under chest-high for him) and he starts his pattern of sinking the striped balls. He has to shoot sidearm, since that's the only way he can get his elbow up above the edge of the table, and he has a very light stroke. "Eleven ball, side pocket." He gently taps the cue ball towards the 11-ball, and enjoys watching the cue-ball meet the 11-ball at the correct angle to cut it in the side pocket. The 11-ball roll towards the side pocket and drops in. "Yesssss!!" the boy says quietly, and walks around the table to the next shot. "Pat, I think you're in trouble, mate! The little guy's a shark!" says one man to the man that the little boy is playing. The little boy continues walking around the table, gently tapping the cue-ball towards the striped balls, and watches eagerly to see the results when the cue-ball meets the object ball. He loves solving angle problems! He once again hears commotion at the bar, as the men are raising their bets, but he has no idea what language this is that these men are speaking. He pockets the last striped ball into the side pocket, but then realizes he forgot where the 8-ball is! His opponent, Pat, smiles, realizing that he will get a turn at the table, afterall.
The little boy stands there, pondering what to do. The cue ball is on the rail near the side pocket, about a diamond away nearer to the head string, where it came to rest after he tapped the last striped ball into the nearest side pocket. The 8-ball is on the end rail, middle diamond. There's a very severe angle there, seemingly almost 90 degrees to this little boy. He knows this is a very tough shot. He knows nothing about bank shots, only about solving angles that make the ball head straight towards a pocket. He hears his Dad call out to him, "Remember what I showed you about that kind of shot, son. Ball, and rubber of the cushion, at the very same time. Put the cue-ball right there." There's another commotion at the bar, but this time it's hushed -- the little boy hears the men whispering to each other. "8-ball, corner pocket," the little boy says as he indicates by pointing at the pocket with the cue. "Oh, I gotta see this!" says his opponent, Pat. He analyzes the shot, and gets down, carefully aiming, with his hand in an open bridge, fist-like, thumb slightly sticking out. He sights down the cue, placing his chin literally on top of it, and pauses with the tip of the cue almost touching the cue-ball. Concentrating, he aims the cue-ball right where his father had showed him -- to make the cue-ball hit the 8-ball and the rubber of the cushion at the same time, and give it some oomph. There is a hushed silence at the bar, as the boy pulls the cue back, pauses, and pushes the cue forward with as much controlled strength as he can muster, all the while concentrating on keeping that cue aimed towards that "magic spot" where it needs to hit the 8-ball and the cushion at the same time. Poonk! -- that sound the cue makes when he hits the cue-ball with force. The little boy stays right in place, looking down the table in line where the cue-ball is traveling. He's watching to see if the cue-ball will hit right in that "magic spot" his father showed him. Everyone at the bar rears up and watches in disbelief. The next sound heard is two sounds mixed together, a thump and a click simultaneously. The cue-ball bounces off that "magic spot" he was aiming at, and rolls down the middle of the table. The black 8-ball, meanwhile, rolls sideways, seemingly end over end, the "8" printed on the ball appearing and disappearing, towards the corner pocket. It starts to slow down as it approaches the pocket, and the little boy is worried that he didn't hit it hard enough. The 8-ball enters the mouth of the pocket, sitting momentarily right at the precipace where the slate ends and the chasm of the pocket begins. The boy anxiously cheers for the ball to fall, and so does the rest of the bar -- "Look at this, LOOK AT THIS... oooooooooooooo... YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!" The 8-ball rolls one additional eighth-inch and drops into the pocket. The bar expodes in a frenzy, people cheering, tapping their glasses on the bar top, some even running over to the little boy, grabbing him by the shoulders, telling him what a fantastic shot he just made. His opponent, Pat, also comes over and shakes his hand. "Gosh, I never had an 8-year old kid run a rack on me!" "What a shot!" The little boy is shaking in disbelief at what he just did -- he just ran a rack of 8-ball, something he'd never done before.
That year was 1974. To this day, I remember that day like it was yesterday. Although addicted to the game of pool ever since my father started teaching me the game in that bar, I'd permanently been "infected" with the pool bug ever since then. On and off in middle and high school, I'd make my way to the local game room after doing my homework, and played pool with a clique of boys that I befriended via this wonderful game. I was one of the best in the area; only one other boy had the same skills I did at pocketing balls, and making the cue-ball "walk and talk around the table" (as we came to call it). Whenever this boy and I matched up, it was like World War III -- it seemed the neighborhood poured into the game room when word spread that we'd just matched up.
I continued playing the game right through my 8-year stint in the U.S. Navy, stationed about the U.S.S. Briscoe (DD-977) at Norfolk, VA. Naturally, I couldn't play while the ship was deployed at sea, but whenever we pulled into port, I was itching to play and immediately grabbed my pool case, waiting on the quarterdeck, when the ship was mooring into port. I was always one of the first ones bounding down the gangplank. If the port was our homeport in Norfolk, I headed right over to Q-Masters, which, during that time (middle 1980s) was located on 6214 Sewell's Point Road, Norfolk, VA. It was my favorite place, and I spent many late evenings and nights playing on the tables in that back room, which had a row of benches for railbirds. Won and lost a lot of money there, but always, ALWAYS, had an enjoyable time. Got to know Barry Behrman on a first name basis, but with all the changes that Q-Masters has gone through (including starting up the now famous U.S. Open), I doubt he might remember me. (Barry, if you're reading this, this is Sean, the Navy guy that very nearly lived there in the middle to late 1980s, once in a while showing up in his dress blues, shot with a couple very expensive Meuccis that he bought from you, and "shot a mean stick" as you once complimented me.) I disappeared from the Tidewater/Norfolk area around early 1990, after my term was complete, and headed back home to NY.
After my stint in the Navy, I started my career -- the very thing I'm doing today, information technologies. Unfortunately, because my career was so hectic, I took at 14-year hiatus from this game I love. My cues found themselves buried at the back of a closet, not seeing the light of day until about three years ago, when the "pool bug" was biting so hard, I couldn't not play any longer.
The "bug" is with me now, something fierce. I have a lot of time to make up for. And you know what? That little boy is still there, still as fascinated as ever with solving angles using two spheres.
Hope this was enjoyable reading!
Warmest regards to everyone,
-Sean
JoeyA said:
John listed all the qualified posters. One will be randomly selected to win a 1x2 and one will be selected as the "best" entry to receive a case of their choice. John has not yet posted who the winners are. I am certain the random selection could happen at any time, so JB must be waiting on the "best" selection to be determined.
I have enjoyed reading all of these posts ... well maybe not the two dissertations (lol). It is nice to see members such as John Barton and Tony Zinzola being so generous.
Note: For those that don't know, Zinzola had a "Write My Bio" contest, and was to reward the winner with a free cue and actually ended up awarding four. We have some very generous and wonderful members here. I hate to see the one's we have lost go, we certainly want to keep the quality of our board up.
I Know That If I Leave, The Standards Will Go DOWN
OK, OK, I'll stick around, but only to uphold the Quality.
Doug
iba7467 said:
OK, OK, I'll stick around, but only to uphold the Quality.
Doug
JoeyA said:
The only people whose names will be associated with what they purchased are people who purchased the cases publicly. I will probably post pictures of each case but not attach it to who ordered it. They may comment if they feel like doing so.
I apologize to everyone. I wanted to pick a winner for the 1x2 case and haven't gotten to it yet. Also the entries are being read and discussed to determine who the winner of the 2x4 will be.
Once again thanks to everyone for all the great stories you shared.
John
tap tap tap
John,
Thanks for the fun thread and offer. Upon visiting your site, I noticed the Cornerstone thread. Please post up that link to pix of items asap so we as a group can help to catch the culprits. With all of us here we should be able to catch the @#%*'s.
td
John,
Thanks for the fun thread and offer. Upon visiting your site, I noticed the Cornerstone thread. Please post up that link to pix of items asap so we as a group can help to catch the culprits. With all of us here we should be able to catch the @#%*'s.
td
There are some great posts in this thread.....,but none can be truer then mine lol.Glad you liked it.
Thanks for the generous offer too us all.
They have been caught already! :thumbup:grindz said:
And the winners are:
For the 1x2 case - number chosen randomly - of course it had to be Case Crazy Cocobolo Cowboy.
-----------------------------------------------------------
For the Customized Case in any size - the winner is, and this was a really tough decision due to all the great entries.
The King. For this entry: READ ALL THE WAY DOWN FOR A SURPRISE
LOL...Easiest question ever ...lol... I don't know about that...
I don't know if this is the easiest question I have ever had to answer ... There are many nights I don't even know why I play pool , And then the nights were I'm never gonna play pool again . Then there is the nights were you can't miss and everything comes easy . People look and stare at you and you hear them whisper at how good you are. Nights when you make those three rail or four rail kick shots look routine and nights when you look like a rookie missing a straight in shot 12 inches from the pocket. It is a game no one can master and many have tried. It is a rewarding game and also has taught me almost every aspect of life in my life.
Humility when you lose to someone you should beat all night long ... Patience when your playing the guy that takes one hour to look over a straight in shot . Pride in your game and how well you play it ... Honesty to be able to play the game fair. Compassion when your cheering for the guy who should not have a chance in the world to beat a good player but makes the eight to win and follows it in only to lose a second later or the guy who lost all his money to you and don't know what he is going to tell the wife and kids. There is so much more this game has taught me it has brought me many riches and friends that no money or mansion or expensive automobile could replace. Nights spent sleeping in a car with friends miles from home ... Holidays were you wake up broke and gather what few dollars you have and head to the pool hall and play and walk out with a nice little purse for your effort and the holiday cheer ... Survival in getting out of some of these place once you have won , You learn to love and respect the game when one of your close road friends dies and his family buries him with his cue laying beside him and the next trip out and every trip after it everyone in the car talks about how much Lee would of liked to be right here sweating out all of these matches we are going to hook up with... These are some of the reasons I play and why I choose to step into the arena every chance I get ...
But the main reason I play is because of a older man I met when I was 15 who loved the game. He was a mechanic at a gas station across from our house. One day a mustang pulls in and two women jump out topless, of course my 15 year old raging hormones had to go over and check it out . I spent that day talking to the older man who was in his fifties . That night he took us out to Mcdonalds and then he went to play pool and I saw my first glance of the game I would fall in love with. Rex was the older man's name and he taught me all he knew about pool . I became like a son to him and we would go play every night.My parents were not fond of Rex when they found out he was taking me into bars to play pool. I remember one night my Mom came in and pulled me out of the bar threatening to have Rex locked up . I also remember setting in a biker bar one night and playing and one of the guys walked by and told Rex ... Hey that prospect you got there is starting to play pretty good before you know it he will be beating you... That is when I knew I was learning the game and improving.
We would travel and we had road buddies we would ride with Lee was one of them . Woody was another and Woody was good , real good. I don't know how many nights we spent watching him play and sweating out matches. When I went into the Navy about once a month I would get a letter from Rex telling me about where they went and how well they played and asking if I was finding any action. When I got out I was right back in with the boys and we were on the road again. I remember the night we stopped up in Orange County and played all night . We did good that night and decided to get a room ... That next morning when Rex , Woody and I got up to move on to the next town ... Lee never awoke it seems a blood clot had killed him that night and we all returned home very sad.Lee was burried in Arlington cemetary in Riverside California with full millitary honors. The only blood family he had there was a Uncle who lived with him when he was home. We were his real family and what I guess you could call his imeadiate family. He was burried with his cue by his side it was a sad day and it seemed like every time we hit the road after that someone thought about Lee and how much he would like to be here with us ... Heck he was probably still right there with us. Lee was dead at the age of 41 for many years I feared the year I turned 41 wondering if I would live to see it ??? When it arrived I spent alot of time that year thinking of Lee he was the ladies man in our group . He was a ex-marine and the tough guy that kind of looked out for me the youngest . I remember one night a guy got mouthy and Lee busted a rack of balls with the guys head. Rex was like a father to me , Woody was the one we all relied on to get our money back when we got in over our heads he was our stopper or shortstop. Lee was kind of like my hero and now Lee was gone at the age of 41... It really shook me up and hurt me and as many things do in the world of pool and the lives we live playing this game it has stuck with me all my life.
Rex as I said was like a dad to me and he taught me all he could but experience was my best teacher and it is pathed with many harsh lessons. Lee and I were very close also it took me some time to start to get over his death I was playing very bad and losing and people were talking about my game and that I must be strung out to be playing so poorly and my mind was not in the game at all and I was very frustrated with the game at that point in my life . Thinking is that the way I would die in a hotel room miles from home after spending the night with a bunch of drunks and druggies sweating out bets and playing to get money to eat on. I was about to give it up till one night Rex asked me out to the pool hall to play and talk ... When I went home that night I found a old piece of paper in my cue case and on it Rex had wrote these words...
"It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; Who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
~President Theodore Roosevelt
That piece of paper always seemed to find it's way to me in my worst moments ... When things were going bad on the table ... It always found it's way into my case ... And it always worked to motivate me to get my game back and to continue to play when I wanted to give it up... To me those words sum up why I play pool ... And why I love the game.
I was 28 when I moved to Georgia ... Rex stayed in Southern California with his wife and kids. Woody had moved to L.A. and was still playing strong . I was 30 when I had my son and put my cue up in the closet a fairly new Schon R-11 with dashed rings ... I had struggled for 18 years to raise my son on my own after his mother decided she did not want anything to do with our son he was only 4 months old then and she was not ready to raise kids. When he was 18 he was ready to move out on his own and while cleaning out the closet I came across my old cue and all those memories ... When I opened it there was the old piece of paper Rex had wrote the words to "The Man In The Arena" on ... I knew then seeing my job was done raising my son to at least manhood it was time to return to the pool table and the only real life I have ever felt comforatable with ... Rex and I stayed in touch till his wife died and I have not heard from him since ... I still like to think of him as the Kentucky Hillbilly he was, propped up on a wall in a pool room smilling with cue in hand waiting for his turn to shoot ...
I now have a new crew I run with the names have changed Danny , Wesley , Johnny and Andrew and me ... They mean just as much to me as the first crew did ... We all hit the road together looking for games ... But time has a way of changing things and I'm not the kid anymore ... I'm one of the older players in the group now and the kid is 19 year old Andrew. While traveling the road I listen to Andrew talk with all the enthusiasm of how he is never gonna stop playing the game for anything in this world and how he wants to go pro... And I remember back to the days when I was younger and telling Rex coming back from a Vegas trip almost the same exact words... And I tell Andrew sometimes life just gets in the way of all those pool plans ... I hope you do what makes you happy.
Yep this is pool and this is the cycle that seems to be a part of it and that repeats itself over and over . I'm not alone I have a whole family of pool players stretched across the planet who share very similar tales. I could go on and on and tell everyone stories of some of the nights we spent out on the table , the craziness that went on . The things we accomplished , the closeness we shared but this is already very long and I apologize to you for that. So I'm only touching on a few of them here as all of you know . These tales are my treasure chest that is burried in my mind that I have lived and experienced. You can't get this setting behind a desk filling out forms or punching the clock at 7 in the morning. You may gain financial stability and all that goes with it but you will not have lived life as fully as I have had the chance to ... The way we as pool players have been given this great gift and this beautiful game and all that goes with it the good and the bad.
So you say it is a easy question but I say to you it is not a easy question because when you ask it ... It brings back my life story and all those involved along the way who taught me to play by giving me advise , giving me lessons on the table by taking my money and leaving me broke , all those who's money I took . All of the good times and all the bad times all the friends I have made and all the friends I made that are no longer here. It is a game that gives and a game that takes when you can least afford it too ... Now a days I find myself still very much in love with the game ... I'm passing it on to my son finally and teaching him to play and he is hooked , He has moved back in with me with a wife and kid I'm gone most nights anyway . I don't know if I can give you a direct answer as to why I play but your a player yourself and I'm sure that your story is alot like mine . And between us we both know why we play ... Because there is no other game like it and when you start your hooked playing a game that is impossible to master and can give you the thrill of a lifetime or leave you feeling the worst you ever felt ... Pool is my life it is what I always go back to time and time again just like that old piece of paper that has found it's way into my case on more then one occassion. When I step to that table with cue in hand I know I am the man in the arena .... I know the great enthusiasms ... And I know the great devotions ... I know that if my time comes and I'm in a hotel room miles from home after sweating out the action the night before in a dark bar room and I don't wake up ... That I died happy and like my friend Lee died doing what I loved doing my whole life ... And I know that our place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
That is why I play the game ...
Because the entries were so good I am giving out runner up prizes of new Sterling Cases to the following people who entries made the top six:
ridewiththewind
AnitoKid
IBA7467
billyjack
sfleinen
I will post pictures of those cases in the morning. Thank you again to everyone who participated in this contest. I am sure that your stories will be inspiring to people for a long time to come.
For the 1x2 case - number chosen randomly - of course it had to be Case Crazy Cocobolo Cowboy.
-----------------------------------------------------------
For the Customized Case in any size - the winner is, and this was a really tough decision due to all the great entries.
The King. For this entry: READ ALL THE WAY DOWN FOR A SURPRISE
LOL...Easiest question ever ...lol... I don't know about that...
I don't know if this is the easiest question I have ever had to answer ... There are many nights I don't even know why I play pool , And then the nights were I'm never gonna play pool again . Then there is the nights were you can't miss and everything comes easy . People look and stare at you and you hear them whisper at how good you are. Nights when you make those three rail or four rail kick shots look routine and nights when you look like a rookie missing a straight in shot 12 inches from the pocket. It is a game no one can master and many have tried. It is a rewarding game and also has taught me almost every aspect of life in my life.
Humility when you lose to someone you should beat all night long ... Patience when your playing the guy that takes one hour to look over a straight in shot . Pride in your game and how well you play it ... Honesty to be able to play the game fair. Compassion when your cheering for the guy who should not have a chance in the world to beat a good player but makes the eight to win and follows it in only to lose a second later or the guy who lost all his money to you and don't know what he is going to tell the wife and kids. There is so much more this game has taught me it has brought me many riches and friends that no money or mansion or expensive automobile could replace. Nights spent sleeping in a car with friends miles from home ... Holidays were you wake up broke and gather what few dollars you have and head to the pool hall and play and walk out with a nice little purse for your effort and the holiday cheer ... Survival in getting out of some of these place once you have won , You learn to love and respect the game when one of your close road friends dies and his family buries him with his cue laying beside him and the next trip out and every trip after it everyone in the car talks about how much Lee would of liked to be right here sweating out all of these matches we are going to hook up with... These are some of the reasons I play and why I choose to step into the arena every chance I get ...
But the main reason I play is because of a older man I met when I was 15 who loved the game. He was a mechanic at a gas station across from our house. One day a mustang pulls in and two women jump out topless, of course my 15 year old raging hormones had to go over and check it out . I spent that day talking to the older man who was in his fifties . That night he took us out to Mcdonalds and then he went to play pool and I saw my first glance of the game I would fall in love with. Rex was the older man's name and he taught me all he knew about pool . I became like a son to him and we would go play every night.My parents were not fond of Rex when they found out he was taking me into bars to play pool. I remember one night my Mom came in and pulled me out of the bar threatening to have Rex locked up . I also remember setting in a biker bar one night and playing and one of the guys walked by and told Rex ... Hey that prospect you got there is starting to play pretty good before you know it he will be beating you... That is when I knew I was learning the game and improving.
We would travel and we had road buddies we would ride with Lee was one of them . Woody was another and Woody was good , real good. I don't know how many nights we spent watching him play and sweating out matches. When I went into the Navy about once a month I would get a letter from Rex telling me about where they went and how well they played and asking if I was finding any action. When I got out I was right back in with the boys and we were on the road again. I remember the night we stopped up in Orange County and played all night . We did good that night and decided to get a room ... That next morning when Rex , Woody and I got up to move on to the next town ... Lee never awoke it seems a blood clot had killed him that night and we all returned home very sad.Lee was burried in Arlington cemetary in Riverside California with full millitary honors. The only blood family he had there was a Uncle who lived with him when he was home. We were his real family and what I guess you could call his imeadiate family. He was burried with his cue by his side it was a sad day and it seemed like every time we hit the road after that someone thought about Lee and how much he would like to be here with us ... Heck he was probably still right there with us. Lee was dead at the age of 41 for many years I feared the year I turned 41 wondering if I would live to see it ??? When it arrived I spent alot of time that year thinking of Lee he was the ladies man in our group . He was a ex-marine and the tough guy that kind of looked out for me the youngest . I remember one night a guy got mouthy and Lee busted a rack of balls with the guys head. Rex was like a father to me , Woody was the one we all relied on to get our money back when we got in over our heads he was our stopper or shortstop. Lee was kind of like my hero and now Lee was gone at the age of 41... It really shook me up and hurt me and as many things do in the world of pool and the lives we live playing this game it has stuck with me all my life.
Rex as I said was like a dad to me and he taught me all he could but experience was my best teacher and it is pathed with many harsh lessons. Lee and I were very close also it took me some time to start to get over his death I was playing very bad and losing and people were talking about my game and that I must be strung out to be playing so poorly and my mind was not in the game at all and I was very frustrated with the game at that point in my life . Thinking is that the way I would die in a hotel room miles from home after spending the night with a bunch of drunks and druggies sweating out bets and playing to get money to eat on. I was about to give it up till one night Rex asked me out to the pool hall to play and talk ... When I went home that night I found a old piece of paper in my cue case and on it Rex had wrote these words...
"It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; Who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
~President Theodore Roosevelt
That piece of paper always seemed to find it's way to me in my worst moments ... When things were going bad on the table ... It always found it's way into my case ... And it always worked to motivate me to get my game back and to continue to play when I wanted to give it up... To me those words sum up why I play pool ... And why I love the game.
I was 28 when I moved to Georgia ... Rex stayed in Southern California with his wife and kids. Woody had moved to L.A. and was still playing strong . I was 30 when I had my son and put my cue up in the closet a fairly new Schon R-11 with dashed rings ... I had struggled for 18 years to raise my son on my own after his mother decided she did not want anything to do with our son he was only 4 months old then and she was not ready to raise kids. When he was 18 he was ready to move out on his own and while cleaning out the closet I came across my old cue and all those memories ... When I opened it there was the old piece of paper Rex had wrote the words to "The Man In The Arena" on ... I knew then seeing my job was done raising my son to at least manhood it was time to return to the pool table and the only real life I have ever felt comforatable with ... Rex and I stayed in touch till his wife died and I have not heard from him since ... I still like to think of him as the Kentucky Hillbilly he was, propped up on a wall in a pool room smilling with cue in hand waiting for his turn to shoot ...
I now have a new crew I run with the names have changed Danny , Wesley , Johnny and Andrew and me ... They mean just as much to me as the first crew did ... We all hit the road together looking for games ... But time has a way of changing things and I'm not the kid anymore ... I'm one of the older players in the group now and the kid is 19 year old Andrew. While traveling the road I listen to Andrew talk with all the enthusiasm of how he is never gonna stop playing the game for anything in this world and how he wants to go pro... And I remember back to the days when I was younger and telling Rex coming back from a Vegas trip almost the same exact words... And I tell Andrew sometimes life just gets in the way of all those pool plans ... I hope you do what makes you happy.
Yep this is pool and this is the cycle that seems to be a part of it and that repeats itself over and over . I'm not alone I have a whole family of pool players stretched across the planet who share very similar tales. I could go on and on and tell everyone stories of some of the nights we spent out on the table , the craziness that went on . The things we accomplished , the closeness we shared but this is already very long and I apologize to you for that. So I'm only touching on a few of them here as all of you know . These tales are my treasure chest that is burried in my mind that I have lived and experienced. You can't get this setting behind a desk filling out forms or punching the clock at 7 in the morning. You may gain financial stability and all that goes with it but you will not have lived life as fully as I have had the chance to ... The way we as pool players have been given this great gift and this beautiful game and all that goes with it the good and the bad.
So you say it is a easy question but I say to you it is not a easy question because when you ask it ... It brings back my life story and all those involved along the way who taught me to play by giving me advise , giving me lessons on the table by taking my money and leaving me broke , all those who's money I took . All of the good times and all the bad times all the friends I have made and all the friends I made that are no longer here. It is a game that gives and a game that takes when you can least afford it too ... Now a days I find myself still very much in love with the game ... I'm passing it on to my son finally and teaching him to play and he is hooked , He has moved back in with me with a wife and kid I'm gone most nights anyway . I don't know if I can give you a direct answer as to why I play but your a player yourself and I'm sure that your story is alot like mine . And between us we both know why we play ... Because there is no other game like it and when you start your hooked playing a game that is impossible to master and can give you the thrill of a lifetime or leave you feeling the worst you ever felt ... Pool is my life it is what I always go back to time and time again just like that old piece of paper that has found it's way into my case on more then one occassion. When I step to that table with cue in hand I know I am the man in the arena .... I know the great enthusiasms ... And I know the great devotions ... I know that if my time comes and I'm in a hotel room miles from home after sweating out the action the night before in a dark bar room and I don't wake up ... That I died happy and like my friend Lee died doing what I loved doing my whole life ... And I know that our place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
That is why I play the game ...
Because the entries were so good I am giving out runner up prizes of new Sterling Cases to the following people who entries made the top six:
ridewiththewind
AnitoKid
IBA7467
billyjack
sfleinen
I will post pictures of those cases in the morning. Thank you again to everyone who participated in this contest. I am sure that your stories will be inspiring to people for a long time to come.