First of all, Earl has it all, talent, intensity and an incredible work attitude (it's a mystery to me how he does it, for example, I wish I were as physically fit, running four miles every day, but heck, for some reason my days all appear to have only 24 hours…).
Secondly, beware of concepts of "aiming". When I was a beginner, there was no one to learn from in my neck of the woods. I used side spin on most shots, and although I already used to get down after I'd decided what I'd do, I still needed to get a feel for a shot once I was bending over the table (performing "micro-adjustments", so to speak). I only took professional lessons after I'd won a first national title, and I can honestly say that my shot-making ability hasn't improved in the last quarter of a century. I still do best when I do something that admittedly has started to feel energy-consuming now that I'm getting older: get a feel for the shot, which means nothing less than stop after my practice strokes, focus back and forth between cue ball and object ball and ask myself the simple question if what I see feels right (although there's no need to put this in words, on the contrary). I do not remember missing a single shot in my whole life where/when I had the patience to truly do this (= make sure my subconscious was indeed fully satisfied, in a worst case scenario get up and start over again etc.). I'd go so far as to claim that I've made shots this way that not only I'm unable to do any other way (such as banks and kick shots in competitive situations with my back to the wall), but that I've never practiced and would not be able to repeat unless under sufficient pressure to do so.
Note I'm not talking about an aiming technique here: focussing my eyes back and forth between cue ball and object ball, and listening to my inner voice, I know if I'm e.g. under- or over-cutting, or dead-on. And I'm no different than anyone else in this respect. 25 years of teaching others has taught me that everyone can do this, that I'm not in any way, nor do anything special. Admittedly, it takes nerves to learn to trust in one's aim, because it's not a rational process. But ultimately we're always going to leave it to our subconscious (our "on-board computer" as I jokingly call it sometimes) to execute motion sequences. It's not the jockey who races: the mind will have to learn to leave that part to the body and thus our subconscious, no matter how one slices the matter. And it's useless to tinker with such a well-honed machine. Think about it: one that can walk a tightrope without further practice than the ability to walk itself - which like all the good stuff in life we didn't learn, but acquired. That's why the horse and jockey analogy should be taken with the appropriate grain of salt: the body is not a workhorse we beat into submission - the jockey, at best, is a passenger trying not to interfere.
Millions of years worth of evolution. If we handed control over to our minds, would be be able to get up from a chair or tie our shoes?
Now, one might assume (wrongly) that a pool players stroke is "bodily execution" but that aiming is/should be in the realm of the mind. I've always doubted this, perhaps because I learnt it all "wrong". The mind is like the jockey, pointing out options, possibly precluding options. Preferably visualizing just one at a time, no more, no less - that feels right.
As a pool player, beware of the mind for all it does is crave for attention: it's constantly trying to claim praise for something it doesn't do. I do not remember mine shooting a single ball into a pocket for me ever.
Greetings from Switzerland, David.
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„J'ai gâché vingt ans de mes plus belles années au billard. Si c'était à refaire, je recommencerais.“ – Roger Conti