2012 US One Pocket Open Trip Report

lfigueroa

AzB Silver Member
Silver Member
2012 US One Pocket Open Trip Report (Part 1)

“Failure is not having the courage to try, nothing more and nothing less. The only thing standing between most people and their dreams is the fear of failure. Yet failure is essential to success in any endeavor. Failure tests us and allows us to grow. It offers us lessons and guides us along the path of enlightenment. The teachers of the East say that every arrow that hits the bull’s eye is the result of one hundred misses. It is a fundamental Law of Nature to profit through loss. Never fear failure. Failure is your friend.”

from “The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari” by Robin Sharma




I went to the U.S. One Pocket Open and didn’t win one, single, itty-bitty, solitary game.

At one point, I had my opponent down in a game 6-1 and in another 7-0... and lost them both. In fact, in the first of those games, I had my opponent in a “wedge game,” with all the remaining balls up table surrounding the far corner pocket on his side, I needed one, he needed all the remaining balls, and I still lost.

So, somewhat obviously, I no longer fear failure. I have embraced it.

I flew into Vegas Wednesday, the day before the 2012 U.S. One Pocket Open started. After picking up my rental car, I drove over to the Cue Club on East Sahara to practice for a couple of hours, then headed over to my hotel to check in, and finally made it over to the tournament room at The Riviera where the event was being held.

One of the things I enjoy most about going to these events is getting to see so many of the friends I made along the years, some of them, whom I haven’t seen in a long time -- Mark and Sunny, of course, Justin and Andy, Bob Jewett, Alan, Dana, Trigger (a hug), Holly (anudder hug), several Jims, several Johns, a couple of Bills, Pete, Steve, Bernie, Dick, and on and on.

I had organized a dinner for a crew mainly from the onepocket.org group and we met up in The Riv’s steakhouse bar: Jay Helfert, Bill Stroud, John Henderson, Greg Sullivan, and Bob Jewett. It was two hours of nonstop stories about great pool players of the past and the food was actually pretty good. For me, knowledgeable pool players telling pool stories is about as good as dinner conversation gets, though at one point, when the waiter came to take our order and Bill Stroud turned to him and abruptly told him, “Let me finish this story first” I was surprised we all didn’t end up poisoned.

After dinner a short stroll took us to the CSI tournament arena and the Players Meeting which turned out to be pretty much pro forma, with Ken Shuman, the tournament director, running through the rules. One twist was the warning that if any of one of our one pocket playing butts that was not in the chair, at our designated table, at our designated start time, for the start of our designated match, we would immediately forfeit one game, with a second lossed game at the five minute point. (For showing up later than that I think Ken threatened we’d get taken "into the back room” of The Riv and get to spend some quality time with Rocco.) Afterwards, we all warmed up and Mr. Stroud and I played for a couple of hours until the draw was posted. And, though there were a dozen byes available and perhaps an equal number of non-professional opponents that could have been paired with my name to give me a running start my first match, at 7pm the following night I was to play U.S. Open 9 Ball champion and member of last year’s European Mosconi Cup team, Darren “Dynamite” Appleton.

Thursday morning I went to the venerable Peppermill for breakfast -- a culinary institution beloved by all pool players who have ever scurried about the far northern edge of the Las Vegas Boulevard strip -- and had a truly stupendous omelet with hash browns and some coffee. Ham, cheese, and mushrooms in one, big, beautiful omelet. I guess it was “bring your kid to work day” because all these miniature waitresses and waiters were running around accompanying their full-sized versions and was it kinda cute. Some moms even made their daughters small, neon-colored, Peppermill jumpers, just like those worn by the regular staff. My “waiter” was a pint-sized, shy, young fellow who had eye-contact problems, his mom sternly instructing, “Look him in the eye and ask how his omelet is. “How’s your omelet, sir?” I briefly debated messing with him and decided that at his tender age I could psychologically scar him for life, so I play it straight and thank him, telling him it’s fine.

I head over to the Cue Club again and play on one of their newly recovered tables for a few hours. It’s not like playing on a Diamond, but it’s close, and the room is quiet so at least I can concentrate. But, inevitably, 7pm looms closer and closer. I’m a little worried because I’m supposed to play on Table 1 and other matches that have been previously assigned that table have ended up on the TAR table and I am in no mood for a public whipping in the town square by one of the top ranked professional players in pool. Blessedly, when I arrive I learn that the match will remain on Table 1 with TAR opting to stream the skirmish between Billy Incardona and Danny Smith.

A few moments later Mr Appleton shows up for our contest, a veritable walking billboard -- his shirt adorned with the various and sundry patches of all his sponsors. I stare at his shirt for a moment and wonder to myself if I could talk the Peppermill into sponsoring me.

We lag and though I put down a decent one, Darren wins. The first game I lose 8-0 when I let a safety leak out and he runs eight. I score a few the second game, but in spite of having practiced on new cloth earlier in the day I cannot get a feel for the table. The tables are, literally, fresh from the Diamond factory and the balls are so new, shinny, and polished they probably still have jet lag from the trip from Belgium. I lose 8-3.

But one thing I do see is that Mr. Appleton is not completely comfortable with the game of one pocket. On several occasions he has the opportunity to do some real offensive damage by moving balls to his side and either hiding the cue ball or moving it up table -- shots almost any more experienced one pocket player would have taken -- and he passes to do something else, thereby giving me a gleamer of hope that not all is lost.

Of course, he runs balls like a mad man, occasionally drilling one from the far rail. The third game, early on, he makes one, plays safe, but leaves me a straight back that I have to twist in and slip by a ball near the far rail. I hit the shot perfectly, the one ball narrowly escaping contact with the blocker, and knocking in a two ball near my hole. I have gracefully swung the cue ball to the other side of the table and I run six. I’m feeling pretty good. Now I’m figuring: OK, I think I know Mr. Appleton is not really comfortable with one pocket -- *I’m shoving them all into the vault.*

And that’s what I did, gradually maneuvering all the remaining balls up table, or forcing him to do the same, and then pushing them tighter and tighter into a “wedge” near the far corner pocket on his side. We bunt balls for an extended period until I miscalculate and let a ball leak out. The penalty Darren exercises is three balls. Now it’s 6-4. Still not too bad. Later, Appleton miscalculates, leaving me jacked up but straight in. 7-4, I am on the hill. We continued to bunt balls trying to leave each other nothing. At one point he miscalculates again and I have a shot to win the game. The only problem is that I’m within a quarter inch of the 14 ball with a severe back cut to my pocket. I jack up a bit to avoid the foul, aim with a considerable amount of english to throw the ball, but over cut it by just enough to come barely short of the pocket.

A few shots later I get another shot at the game winner. A long bank off the side rail, but I shoot it short once again. I have left the 11 ball less than a diamond from my pocket along the long rail, but Darren begins to examine a ball on his side rail about a diamond and a half below the side pocket. I’m thinking, “No way -- the angle is too severe.” But I was wrong. Appleton lines up and fires the ball down the rail, shooting the shot with draw and right-hand english and whips the cue ball around four rails to come up perfect on a bank shot on the 11, with position on another ball back up table. 7-7. Now, it’s not looking so good.

When I finally get back to the table, the last remaining ball is almost in the jaws of the pocket of the far corner pocket on my side. I decide I have no other choice but to make the ball and spin the cue ball along the bottom rail over to his side. I hit the shot well enough and the cue balls travels to his side of the table, and comes up and stops about four inches past the middle diamond on the end rail, about a half inch off the cushion. I place the pocketed ball on the spot. And then, after looking at the shot for only a moment, Appleton gets down and gently back cuts the ball off the spot and into his hole. I lose 7-8.

The fourth and final last game was over pretty quickly, the wind -- or more accurately the gentle, wafting breeze that I had felt from having him 6-1 -- completely taken out of my sails.

But you know, generally speaking, I’m an optimistic kind of guy. I figure, OK, so I lost. An amateur like me is supposed to lose to a champion. Anything else is “out running the nuts.” And it was most cool to play Appleton, a total gentleman, and very instructive in that I got a chance to watch his PSR and mechanics up close and from various angles. In fact, mid-match it dawned on me that he was doing something, mechanically, that I was not. So then, while in the chair, I started looking around the tournament arena and realized that it was something almost every great player in the room was was doing too. It was an “a ha” moment.

I stop by the TAR both to tell Justin that if he gets stuck for a commentator I’d be happy to fill in and we agree that I’ll do the 10pm match the following night. I sit and get a night cap at The Riv bar and then call it a wrap for the night.

Friday morning it’s back to the Cue Club. I have no idea who I’m playing in the afternoon -- when I left the tournament room it was TBD -- but I figure you can never hit too many pool balls. I start practicing and then I begin to toy with what I saw Appleton and the other professionals doing the night before and I can immediately see and feel the difference. I keep messing with it and an hour goes by, and then another, and then it’s been like three hours and suddenly I realize what I’ve done: I have changed my PSR, mid-tournament. But not just any tournament, mind you, but The U.S. frippin’ Open.

So back at the hotel I change into my fighting togs -- all players in the event are required to follow a dress code and stow the jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers in favor of dress slacks, collared shirts and dark shoes and with about 30 minutes before the posted start time of my match, I head back to the convention center when I run into AZer “Ghosst.” I haven’t seen Dana in years, our acquaintance going back to the long lost days of RSB. And then, amongst all the whachabeenupto and how’s your wife doing stuff, he casually says, “I see you’re on the TV table for your next match.”

?!

This cannot be. More than a little stunned, I say my goodbye and walk into the tournament arena and go up to look at the tournament board and, yes indeedie, there is my name, broken out of the herd to play on the TAR table. But not to just play anyone on the TAR table -- my opponent to be is none other than feared, Chicago money player and last year’s runner up to Efren, Chris Gentile.

(to be continued, here: http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=275287)

Lou Figueroa
 
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Oh, Lou done SEE something all right! A champ-pee-yun at work!

Great write up, Lou. A pleasure to read.

Sorry 'bout the ass-whuppin. I know it well!

I played Tom Vanover in a tourney, had a decent lead in every game and didn't win a single one, :thud:
 
jeez ok, i know you deliberately didnt tell us to keep us in suspense but ill ask it. what was the PSR thing you noticed all the pros doing that you were not?

great trip report as usual Lou. Thanks for posting this up.
 
jeez ok, i know you deliberately didnt tell us to keep us in suspense but ill ask it. what was the PSR thing you noticed all the pros doing that you were not?
great trip report as usual Lou. Thanks for posting this up.
I believe that is called 'keeping a customer'.

You got us, Lou. Ears (not nose) open.
 
As always, a wonderfully written account of your trip.

Looking forward to the next installment.
 
U.S open one pocket

Lou, I saw your match, and having experienced the same, I was feeling your pain!
Great luck to you next time, maybe will see you in Tunica !

Fort Worth Steve
 
You're probably copying the SEE SYSTEM and you didn't even realize it.:rolleyes:

Tell me Lou didn't lose to an aiming system user. That's funny, and he didn't realize the psr is directly related to the aiming system. Man this guy has no credibility in the aiming department.
 
Thanks!

...along with everyone else here, I appreciate your trip report......interesting read......Thanks for all of us who couldn't be there..........
 
Oh, Lou done SEE something all right! A champ-pee-yun at work!

Great write up, Lou. A pleasure to read.

Sorry 'bout the ass-whuppin. I know it well!

I played Tom Vanover in a tourney, had a decent lead in every game and didn't win a single one, :thud:


Thanks, BB. The ass-whuppin' stung but it was instructive. And there's benefit too. I played one of my regular 1pocket peeps yesterday and it was like: Really? I just played Darren Appleton. Whadda you gonna to do me?

Lou Figueroa
 
jeez ok, i know you deliberately didnt tell us to keep us in suspense but ill ask it. what was the PSR thing you noticed all the pros doing that you were not?

great trip report as usual Lou. Thanks for posting this up.


Thanks, uwate, you're welcome.

As I mentioned elsewhere, it's a subject that may need it's own thread, but I felt he was using his bridge hand to create a certain grip hand position. Maybe everyone else knows this and I'm the last to know, but playing around with it, I feel there's some value there.

Lou Figueroa
 
Lou, I saw your match, and having experienced the same, I was feeling your pain!
Great luck to you next time, maybe will see you in Tunica !

Fort Worth Steve


Thanks, Steve. I don't know about Tunica, but please say hi the next time wherever it is.

Lou Figueroa
 
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