It wasn’t the greatest shot in the world, or even the most profitable, but after playing pool for over forty years one particular shot has stuck in my mind above all others…
The match-winning ball (the 8) was hanging over the jaws of a corner pocket. Alas, the path to this black was blocked by two object balls in very close proximity, the gap between them appearing possibly too narrow to squeeze the cueball even if directly in line… which I wasn’t.
I endeavoured to shoot three rails at a pace that should the white indeed foul one of the blocking balls it would not be strong enough to also topple the black and lose me the game.
Lo and behold the cueball bounced from the three cushions as hoped, barely missing several obstacles in its path before arriving at the three balls by the pocket. Miraculously it rolled very slowly through the impossibly small gap and, with its last rotation, just touched the 8 ball… which dropped after a second’s pause.
To me, it was rather reminiscent of Tiger’s famous putt on the 16th at Augusta.
The match-winning ball (the 8) was hanging over the jaws of a corner pocket. Alas, the path to this black was blocked by two object balls in very close proximity, the gap between them appearing possibly too narrow to squeeze the cueball even if directly in line… which I wasn’t.
I endeavoured to shoot three rails at a pace that should the white indeed foul one of the blocking balls it would not be strong enough to also topple the black and lose me the game.
Lo and behold the cueball bounced from the three cushions as hoped, barely missing several obstacles in its path before arriving at the three balls by the pocket. Miraculously it rolled very slowly through the impossibly small gap and, with its last rotation, just touched the 8 ball… which dropped after a second’s pause.
To me, it was rather reminiscent of Tiger’s famous putt on the 16th at Augusta.
