This is for those who like to read stories about unexpected bar pool adventures. After not playing for quite a while, I had a fun and successful return! Went today to see a movie with a group of friends, and after that we moved on to the nearest bar to watch some 8ball, and play as well if we get lucky. We rarely go to that bar as there are 3 problems with that place:
1. sometimes the crowd gathering there is... well... suspicious
2. you have to play strictly by the local rules, and the winner always stays at the table (you rarely get to play if you can't take the guy holding the table)
3. regarding number 2, the place is usually crowded, and there are at least 5 players nearly impossible to defeat
Embracing the fact I most likely wouldn't play, I ordered a beer and just had fun chatting with my friends and watching some good matches. There were quite a few impressive shots, some guys I knew from before played as well, but there was this one guy who kept winning. Then finally, one of my friends, who used to be the most skilled player among us, but also played on very rare occasions for some time, grew enough balls to challenge the guy. If he won, we would all get to play among ourselves.
As the match started, my friend quickly showed us he didn't lose the feeling, as he went toe to toe with his opponent. Sure, he did miss some shots you would probably consider easy, but so did the other guy, as my friend often left him little to shoot. In the end they were both on the black, my friend missed but was given a good defensive position from which his opponent didn't have a good chance at even getting the 8 close to his pocket. But then came that shot. The 8 was at the upper-left corner of the table, and the CB was near the right corner in the kitchen. His last pocket was the upper-right pocket. Since the black was placed on a terrible position, he couldn't simply one-rail it to the right. Instead, if I remember correctly, he launched it at the left rail, across the table to the lower rail and straight into the upper-right pocket. It wasn't a shot you see every day, at least not in a moment like that. My friend fought well, and I congratulated him, but at the same time I was a little sad we won't get to play.
Returning from the toilet, however, there was my friend saying the winner's had enough and left the table, and he challenged me 1 on 1. Well, I thought, if I have to embarrass myself, I'll feel better against a friend than the guy who just kicked his ***. So, focused at getting the feel back as soon as possible (even though he lost, my opponent just had a warm-up) and hoping the other friends wouldn't laugh too much, I launched the break shot. Nothing dropped. Even better, I left all the balls nicely spread out for my friend to pocket. After a turn or two, he was down to one ball, while I still had 6 or 7 to drop. At that very moment, without a warning, I suddenly felt a familiar sensation - my killer instinct partially coming back. I knew I had to forget planning and follow my insitncts, as I always did. I launched full-powered shots one after another, with balls flying in, some by aiming skills, other sore by luck. In the next few turns, my opponent pocketed his remaining ball, and I was down to 3. That was the turning point. Took them out one by one, without too much effort, and I only had the 8 left to shoot into my last pocket, but I had to hit it off a rail. I did it perfectly! It was hard to tell who was more surprised: my friend or myself. Now with a victory in my hands after so long, and my killer instinct back online, I'm ready for new battles. Wish me more luck :wink:
1. sometimes the crowd gathering there is... well... suspicious
2. you have to play strictly by the local rules, and the winner always stays at the table (you rarely get to play if you can't take the guy holding the table)
3. regarding number 2, the place is usually crowded, and there are at least 5 players nearly impossible to defeat
Embracing the fact I most likely wouldn't play, I ordered a beer and just had fun chatting with my friends and watching some good matches. There were quite a few impressive shots, some guys I knew from before played as well, but there was this one guy who kept winning. Then finally, one of my friends, who used to be the most skilled player among us, but also played on very rare occasions for some time, grew enough balls to challenge the guy. If he won, we would all get to play among ourselves.
As the match started, my friend quickly showed us he didn't lose the feeling, as he went toe to toe with his opponent. Sure, he did miss some shots you would probably consider easy, but so did the other guy, as my friend often left him little to shoot. In the end they were both on the black, my friend missed but was given a good defensive position from which his opponent didn't have a good chance at even getting the 8 close to his pocket. But then came that shot. The 8 was at the upper-left corner of the table, and the CB was near the right corner in the kitchen. His last pocket was the upper-right pocket. Since the black was placed on a terrible position, he couldn't simply one-rail it to the right. Instead, if I remember correctly, he launched it at the left rail, across the table to the lower rail and straight into the upper-right pocket. It wasn't a shot you see every day, at least not in a moment like that. My friend fought well, and I congratulated him, but at the same time I was a little sad we won't get to play.
Returning from the toilet, however, there was my friend saying the winner's had enough and left the table, and he challenged me 1 on 1. Well, I thought, if I have to embarrass myself, I'll feel better against a friend than the guy who just kicked his ***. So, focused at getting the feel back as soon as possible (even though he lost, my opponent just had a warm-up) and hoping the other friends wouldn't laugh too much, I launched the break shot. Nothing dropped. Even better, I left all the balls nicely spread out for my friend to pocket. After a turn or two, he was down to one ball, while I still had 6 or 7 to drop. At that very moment, without a warning, I suddenly felt a familiar sensation - my killer instinct partially coming back. I knew I had to forget planning and follow my insitncts, as I always did. I launched full-powered shots one after another, with balls flying in, some by aiming skills, other sore by luck. In the next few turns, my opponent pocketed his remaining ball, and I was down to 3. That was the turning point. Took them out one by one, without too much effort, and I only had the 8 left to shoot into my last pocket, but I had to hit it off a rail. I did it perfectly! It was hard to tell who was more surprised: my friend or myself. Now with a victory in my hands after so long, and my killer instinct back online, I'm ready for new battles. Wish me more luck :wink:
regarding the 9 ball, I don't know, but I'll keep you posted.
