Not long ago I was playing some bar table 8 ball with a co-worker. This guy has been bit by the pool bug hard and was super excited to play together. He recently bought his first two piece cue stick and we were hitting them around a little bit.
Things were pretty casual but that all changed when he saw his mom’s boyfriend walk in and join our party. He was a fine fellow, but he fell into a category of people that find it personally diminishing to run into someone better at a game than they are. You know the type. He had to loudly make sure everyone knew that he could play the game too. So as he rotated in every time I'd get down on a shot he’d shark me. "Oh, this should be no problem for you, just bounce it out for the 7 next”, or “Looks like you just slice this one in and you’ll be in good shape”, or “Now they’re all open for you”, always right when I was on my back swing. Everything I did got a comment (“I’m surprised you didn’t just play it in the other corner”…). It gets very fatiguing, let me tell you. Especially from a guy that shot his hanging ball first with ball in hand.
But this doesn't make me dog it, it just fired me up. I hate this stuff and it makes me want to keep those people in their chair for a very, very long time. So I kick it up a gear and I start running through racks. 2-3 at a time. Just punishing him as hard as I can for being a poor sportsman. I refused to make a mistake and let him to the table, I was playing with fury!
Of course no matter how many racks I ran though there was no hint of acknowledgement that I was playing jam up. Just more snide remarks about how easy all my racks were to run.
Finally came THE SHOT (see attached images: http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=455646). I had 3 stripes left, and none of them went anywhere. They were all clustered up. It looked like I was finally going to have to give my pompous opponent a chance to clean up an easy rack. WAIT- wait just a moment! I saw it! If I can get to the 14 ball near the rail just right it might go rail first off the back of the four. I’m hooked on that ball now, but if I billiard off the middle stripe I could swing at it. Also, it looks like that might send the solid one rail to open up the third cluster (see attachment two). Well, nothing else to do. I called the 14 ball in the corner. Of course my opponent is very confused and doesn’t understand how I’m calling a ball that looks like it doesn’t go, all while aiming at a totally different ball. While I’m practice stroking he’s walking quickly past my line of vision to get a view of the shot and try to figure out what I’m doing. But it’s too late, I’m shark proof, my focus is complete, and I pull the trigger.
WHACK! Before I can even stand up to watch the balls all explode into motion. I must of hit it good because all I see is that 14 ball screaming down the rail into the heart of the pocket, and the rest of the table rearranging like an open break shot. When they finally came to rest they were all laying open like candy land and I had an easy shot at a stripe hanging in the side. I grabbed the chalk in elation and was ready for my opponent to finally give me some props for a hall of fame shot, only to hear him say “Oh, that ball was DEAD”.
This was too much for me. I just erupted in laughter as I ran out the open balls. Yes, sir, that ball was dead. Easy game.
Anyway, we didn’t play long after that. But the moral of the story is never under any circumstances give a compliment to a good player, and always keep your eyes open for dead balls…
Things were pretty casual but that all changed when he saw his mom’s boyfriend walk in and join our party. He was a fine fellow, but he fell into a category of people that find it personally diminishing to run into someone better at a game than they are. You know the type. He had to loudly make sure everyone knew that he could play the game too. So as he rotated in every time I'd get down on a shot he’d shark me. "Oh, this should be no problem for you, just bounce it out for the 7 next”, or “Looks like you just slice this one in and you’ll be in good shape”, or “Now they’re all open for you”, always right when I was on my back swing. Everything I did got a comment (“I’m surprised you didn’t just play it in the other corner”…). It gets very fatiguing, let me tell you. Especially from a guy that shot his hanging ball first with ball in hand.
But this doesn't make me dog it, it just fired me up. I hate this stuff and it makes me want to keep those people in their chair for a very, very long time. So I kick it up a gear and I start running through racks. 2-3 at a time. Just punishing him as hard as I can for being a poor sportsman. I refused to make a mistake and let him to the table, I was playing with fury!
Of course no matter how many racks I ran though there was no hint of acknowledgement that I was playing jam up. Just more snide remarks about how easy all my racks were to run.
Finally came THE SHOT (see attached images: http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=455646). I had 3 stripes left, and none of them went anywhere. They were all clustered up. It looked like I was finally going to have to give my pompous opponent a chance to clean up an easy rack. WAIT- wait just a moment! I saw it! If I can get to the 14 ball near the rail just right it might go rail first off the back of the four. I’m hooked on that ball now, but if I billiard off the middle stripe I could swing at it. Also, it looks like that might send the solid one rail to open up the third cluster (see attachment two). Well, nothing else to do. I called the 14 ball in the corner. Of course my opponent is very confused and doesn’t understand how I’m calling a ball that looks like it doesn’t go, all while aiming at a totally different ball. While I’m practice stroking he’s walking quickly past my line of vision to get a view of the shot and try to figure out what I’m doing. But it’s too late, I’m shark proof, my focus is complete, and I pull the trigger.
WHACK! Before I can even stand up to watch the balls all explode into motion. I must of hit it good because all I see is that 14 ball screaming down the rail into the heart of the pocket, and the rest of the table rearranging like an open break shot. When they finally came to rest they were all laying open like candy land and I had an easy shot at a stripe hanging in the side. I grabbed the chalk in elation and was ready for my opponent to finally give me some props for a hall of fame shot, only to hear him say “Oh, that ball was DEAD”.
This was too much for me. I just erupted in laughter as I ran out the open balls. Yes, sir, that ball was dead. Easy game.
Anyway, we didn’t play long after that. But the moral of the story is never under any circumstances give a compliment to a good player, and always keep your eyes open for dead balls…
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