My and Randi's good friend, George "Ice" Evans, passed away recently. George wasn't a championship level pool player but nobody ever loved the sport more than George. He was a fixture around the Boston area nicer pool rooms. Although confined largely to a wheelchair, George was a solid B player.
He had been battling cancer but he kept his positive attitude and his faith to the end. His terrific wife, Frankie, informed us that in his final days he inspired his medical team with words of faith and love. They learned what we already knew, that being he was a very unique man. We really loved George. I cried for a while, as is my wont in these later years until I realized that our good friend's passing was just as joyous as sad. George wouldn't have wanted us to be sad but rather to savor his friendship and remarkable life.
You see, George got shot 9 times outside his home a decade ago or so. After lengthy recuperation, rather than adopt a sourpuss negative attitude, he chose to be positive about everything. He was a religious man but he didn't try to force his belief on anybody. I found our friendship rewarding, sometimes puzzling but always upbeat and interesting, sort of an odd combination.
One time, when he was healthy enough to go to a tournament with me in Columbus, OH, George's faith was sorely tested. It was late upon a tournament evening, as we were preparing to go out to our rental car and head home, a sultry female with a perfectly sculpted body and intoxicating tones began to ooh and aah over George, making it obvious that she would be perfectly willing to satisfy his every whim. "Oh, Lord, what am I going to do?", he asked, looking upward. I'll finish this simply by saying he made the right decision, as was practically always our friend's way.
He had a great sense of humor. I miss him already more that I can adequately put into words. I hope that the readers here don't mind my sharing this with them. I only wish there were more Georges in the pool community. Thanks,
Grady
He had been battling cancer but he kept his positive attitude and his faith to the end. His terrific wife, Frankie, informed us that in his final days he inspired his medical team with words of faith and love. They learned what we already knew, that being he was a very unique man. We really loved George. I cried for a while, as is my wont in these later years until I realized that our good friend's passing was just as joyous as sad. George wouldn't have wanted us to be sad but rather to savor his friendship and remarkable life.
You see, George got shot 9 times outside his home a decade ago or so. After lengthy recuperation, rather than adopt a sourpuss negative attitude, he chose to be positive about everything. He was a religious man but he didn't try to force his belief on anybody. I found our friendship rewarding, sometimes puzzling but always upbeat and interesting, sort of an odd combination.
One time, when he was healthy enough to go to a tournament with me in Columbus, OH, George's faith was sorely tested. It was late upon a tournament evening, as we were preparing to go out to our rental car and head home, a sultry female with a perfectly sculpted body and intoxicating tones began to ooh and aah over George, making it obvious that she would be perfectly willing to satisfy his every whim. "Oh, Lord, what am I going to do?", he asked, looking upward. I'll finish this simply by saying he made the right decision, as was practically always our friend's way.
He had a great sense of humor. I miss him already more that I can adequately put into words. I hope that the readers here don't mind my sharing this with them. I only wish there were more Georges in the pool community. Thanks,
Grady
