In my life I haven't played much league, I think maybe 3 or 4 apa sessions was about it when I was in my late 40's, over 10 yrs ago.
When I moved to my current home, I was amazed to learn that there was an independent league with 16 teams playing out of bars and private clubs all in this little town. It's a l-o-n-g session, like 7 months, but the payouts are strong!!
I was recruited onto a team a few years ago and we've had great success and this year was no exception, taking 2nd place in the regular season and making it into the playoffs.
Fast forward to this past Monday night, it was our team vs the team that ended the regular season in 1st, this for the championship, all the marbles, the cheese, the decider for whose bar that big ugly-assed trophy will reside, on full display for the next year.
It's bar-box 8 ball on just about the shittiest table in all of the league, we were all mad about it but we have to play there because it's the bar who sponsors the league and they want to funnel in through their doors as many drink-and-food-consuming warm bodies as they can, both for the semi's and finals.
It's a race to 16, a mix of singles and doubles games, shoot 'til you miss.
It was just as expected, a freaking battle royale, the lead see-sawing back and forth from us to them, and visa versa. Of course, we end up at hill-hill, or as Upstate Al would say, "a hilla-hilla thrilla".
So, who's playing in this decider game you ask? For the other team it's their two best players, John & Vic. For us it's Kurt & me.
"Let's get it on, let's get it decided."
-Mills Lane
Mirroring much of the night's see-saw action, this game has quickly become a defensive gem with both teams trading good safeties and trying to take over pockets, everyone being real careful. Any of us 4 guys, if given even a little seam of daylight, could close it out.
The two losing teams from last week's semi's were on an adjacent table duking it out for 3rd/4th. We had their attention plus a nice sized crowd had gathered to watch.
Kurt said to me, "I wouldn't have wanted it any other way."
I whispered back, "I'd have much preferred kicking their asses 16-3." :grin-square:
We had solids and I saw that our 3 ball, in a cluster on a side rail, looked like it could pass straight down into the corner but it was t-i-g-h-t on both ends, on entry for whitey coming in and for the angry red ball to depart the cluster.
I told Kurt that if we can get the cue ball up table with a skinny angle to that 3b, we should consider it a go, otherwise we may end up playing chess with these guys 'til breakfast.
Then it happened, Victor tried to safe me near the foot rail but came short of the obstructing ball by just a couple of inches, leaving me a thin slice on the 6b into the side, the same side the 3 was just about trapped on. I would be in no sell-out danger if I try the razor cut loaded with inside, hoping to bounce off the top cushion and track back left toward the skinny angle needed for the 3.
It worked.
I'm standing there evaluating it, the crowd is buzzing, Kurt walks over and asks, "so, whaddya think?"
I said, "I really think it's a go" and as I'm saying it I glanced over to see my other two team mates, Gregg & Joe, who looked more nervous than those two long-tailed cats I've heard about in the room full of rocking chairs.
The other team all jumped up in unison like four jacks-in-the-box to get a better look at the table and one of them went to ask the league director to come watch the hit.
During that minute or so, I started thinking about how long the season was and how I'd really hate to be the one to sell out our championship hopes. We worked hard and long to get here.
And then I thought, this is about as close as I'm ever gonna get to an Appleton Mosconi-winning moment, my version, of course, being a tiny-town USA, ugly-assed trophy winning moment. :grin-square:
Fvck it, I'm shooting!
Chris, the TD comes over to watch the hit and when he arrives he looks at me quizzically and asks "what are you trying to do here?"
I said "make the 3 in the corner."
He asks "Clean?"
I say "Yep".
I get all of the bad 'Wizard of Oz flying monkeys' out of my head and get down on the shot.
Then I stood back up thinking about how I need low left to break out my remaining solid in the cluster and put it where I need it for the hopeful next shot. Yes, low left and I sure hope applying it doesn't squirt whitey much because the entry to the 3b is that tight, no margin for error. Slight-squirt-adjustment-calibrated - check. Okay, I'm ready.
I get back down, about 4 or 5 practice strokes and wham, the simultaneous beautiful sounds of my Olney pinging as she strikes whitey and the ref calling "good hit", then watching the red ball disappear into the corner pocket. Whoohoo, so far I'm not the sellout goat!! Yeah baby!!!
Okay, just gotta make two more balls for the big cheddar!
I'm almost straight in on this last solid, just need to draw back a foot or so for the 8. Down, shoot, <<ping>>, that worked out pretty good, just over drew it a few inches.
The crowd is getting a little crazy, the 2 teams on the other table have stopped play, I hear Joe yell C'mon Brian!!! and clapping his hands, Gregg joins in. My partner Kurt, quiet as a church mouse.
The cue ball is a little offset and maybe about 18" from the 8 and I'll be shooting up into the left corner pocket. I'm comfortable to throw it in with a drop of outside.
I get down on the shot, 4 practice strokes, okay let her fly, <<ping>> , see you in hell 8 ball!!!
YES!!! My team mates are jumping up and down going all haywire, coming over to hug me, possibly even kisses...:wub::lovies::love2:
:happydance:
I want to be a good sport and I grab my boys and we all go over to shake hands with John, Vic, Malave, and Berto, all of whom are top-shelf guys and great players.
Jameson shots and beers are flowing, let the celebration begin.
Why am I writing this damn-near-novella about this match?
Because, it was that much FUN!!!.
Mind you, I'm no Lyn Weschler (az: cardiac kid) :wink: but this old dog can still bring it every once in a while.
Certain restrictions apply, see a dealer near you for details, tax and registration are extra.
I have the greatest team mates and we had big fun, all season, every step of the way.
If you actually read this from beginning to end, you, too, are a champ. :wink:
Thanks!
best,
brian kc
When I moved to my current home, I was amazed to learn that there was an independent league with 16 teams playing out of bars and private clubs all in this little town. It's a l-o-n-g session, like 7 months, but the payouts are strong!!
I was recruited onto a team a few years ago and we've had great success and this year was no exception, taking 2nd place in the regular season and making it into the playoffs.
Fast forward to this past Monday night, it was our team vs the team that ended the regular season in 1st, this for the championship, all the marbles, the cheese, the decider for whose bar that big ugly-assed trophy will reside, on full display for the next year.
It's bar-box 8 ball on just about the shittiest table in all of the league, we were all mad about it but we have to play there because it's the bar who sponsors the league and they want to funnel in through their doors as many drink-and-food-consuming warm bodies as they can, both for the semi's and finals.
It's a race to 16, a mix of singles and doubles games, shoot 'til you miss.
It was just as expected, a freaking battle royale, the lead see-sawing back and forth from us to them, and visa versa. Of course, we end up at hill-hill, or as Upstate Al would say, "a hilla-hilla thrilla".
So, who's playing in this decider game you ask? For the other team it's their two best players, John & Vic. For us it's Kurt & me.
"Let's get it on, let's get it decided."
-Mills Lane
Mirroring much of the night's see-saw action, this game has quickly become a defensive gem with both teams trading good safeties and trying to take over pockets, everyone being real careful. Any of us 4 guys, if given even a little seam of daylight, could close it out.
The two losing teams from last week's semi's were on an adjacent table duking it out for 3rd/4th. We had their attention plus a nice sized crowd had gathered to watch.
Kurt said to me, "I wouldn't have wanted it any other way."
I whispered back, "I'd have much preferred kicking their asses 16-3." :grin-square:
We had solids and I saw that our 3 ball, in a cluster on a side rail, looked like it could pass straight down into the corner but it was t-i-g-h-t on both ends, on entry for whitey coming in and for the angry red ball to depart the cluster.
I told Kurt that if we can get the cue ball up table with a skinny angle to that 3b, we should consider it a go, otherwise we may end up playing chess with these guys 'til breakfast.
Then it happened, Victor tried to safe me near the foot rail but came short of the obstructing ball by just a couple of inches, leaving me a thin slice on the 6b into the side, the same side the 3 was just about trapped on. I would be in no sell-out danger if I try the razor cut loaded with inside, hoping to bounce off the top cushion and track back left toward the skinny angle needed for the 3.
It worked.
I'm standing there evaluating it, the crowd is buzzing, Kurt walks over and asks, "so, whaddya think?"
I said, "I really think it's a go" and as I'm saying it I glanced over to see my other two team mates, Gregg & Joe, who looked more nervous than those two long-tailed cats I've heard about in the room full of rocking chairs.
The other team all jumped up in unison like four jacks-in-the-box to get a better look at the table and one of them went to ask the league director to come watch the hit.
During that minute or so, I started thinking about how long the season was and how I'd really hate to be the one to sell out our championship hopes. We worked hard and long to get here.
And then I thought, this is about as close as I'm ever gonna get to an Appleton Mosconi-winning moment, my version, of course, being a tiny-town USA, ugly-assed trophy winning moment. :grin-square:
Fvck it, I'm shooting!
Chris, the TD comes over to watch the hit and when he arrives he looks at me quizzically and asks "what are you trying to do here?"
I said "make the 3 in the corner."
He asks "Clean?"
I say "Yep".
I get all of the bad 'Wizard of Oz flying monkeys' out of my head and get down on the shot.
Then I stood back up thinking about how I need low left to break out my remaining solid in the cluster and put it where I need it for the hopeful next shot. Yes, low left and I sure hope applying it doesn't squirt whitey much because the entry to the 3b is that tight, no margin for error. Slight-squirt-adjustment-calibrated - check. Okay, I'm ready.
I get back down, about 4 or 5 practice strokes and wham, the simultaneous beautiful sounds of my Olney pinging as she strikes whitey and the ref calling "good hit", then watching the red ball disappear into the corner pocket. Whoohoo, so far I'm not the sellout goat!! Yeah baby!!!
Okay, just gotta make two more balls for the big cheddar!
I'm almost straight in on this last solid, just need to draw back a foot or so for the 8. Down, shoot, <<ping>>, that worked out pretty good, just over drew it a few inches.
The crowd is getting a little crazy, the 2 teams on the other table have stopped play, I hear Joe yell C'mon Brian!!! and clapping his hands, Gregg joins in. My partner Kurt, quiet as a church mouse.
The cue ball is a little offset and maybe about 18" from the 8 and I'll be shooting up into the left corner pocket. I'm comfortable to throw it in with a drop of outside.
I get down on the shot, 4 practice strokes, okay let her fly, <<ping>> , see you in hell 8 ball!!!
YES!!! My team mates are jumping up and down going all haywire, coming over to hug me, possibly even kisses...:wub::lovies::love2:
:happydance:I want to be a good sport and I grab my boys and we all go over to shake hands with John, Vic, Malave, and Berto, all of whom are top-shelf guys and great players.
Jameson shots and beers are flowing, let the celebration begin.
Why am I writing this damn-near-novella about this match?
Because, it was that much FUN!!!.
Mind you, I'm no Lyn Weschler (az: cardiac kid) :wink: but this old dog can still bring it every once in a while.
Certain restrictions apply, see a dealer near you for details, tax and registration are extra.
I have the greatest team mates and we had big fun, all season, every step of the way.
If you actually read this from beginning to end, you, too, are a champ. :wink:
Thanks!
best,
brian kc
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