ACTION stamina --time separates all players
Time heals all wounds
Time is on my side
Time and tide wait for no man
a Time for every purpose under heaven
Time spent with a cat is never wasted
....
Time separates all players....
I usually only go out one night a week--Tuesday. This week my wife was out of town yesterday, so I went out Wednesday night as well.
So Tuesday I arrived at the pool hall 4:30 pm, and I played five cheap 9-ball races to 7 on a big table against ND3/4 (third or fourth best player in ND). He was giving me 2 games on the wire. I finished up one set by the 7:30 pm start of 8-ball league. After league, about 10:00 pm, ND3/4 wanted to give me 6 games to 16 bar box 8-ball for a c-note. We played two sets, and I won them both.
Meanwhile ND1/2 was playing ND1/2 (two top players in ND) some $40 9-ball races to 5.
At 1:30 am I went home. Then I slept for a while. Then I went to a 8:00 am dentist appt. Then I went to work. Then I got home at 6:00 pm and cooked dinner for my mother-in-law. Then at 8:30 pm I went back to the poolhall.
There I saw ND1/2 playing ND3/4. ND3/4 was getting one game on the wire to 9. ND3/4 was stuck 800 jujubees, and they were playing for 200. I soon learned they had been playing since I left 17 hours earlier. In fact both had been playing for 27 or 28 hours at that point.
ND3/4 looked absolutely awful. He was struggling, staggering, slouched. ND1/2 was focused and playing strong. I thought I was in a scene from that 1961 pool movie--what's it called again?
ND3/4 quit after that set and was helped out of the poolroom.
Then ND1/2 turned to me and said,
"you next? I'll give you the last three."
I thought he was joking.
"you have to play 8 sets," I replied with a smile
"8 races to 7 for 200 each," he said with no smile.
Now this guy has given me the last 4 in the past. Sure the last 3 is less weight, but he's been playing for 28 hours for cryin out loud! It's 9:00 pm. Eight sets is gonna take us till 3:00 am at least... He's gotta crash at some point ???
I agreed to 8 sets for 100 instead of 200. I said, making sure it was clear, "you gotta play all 8." He assured me that if he collapsed on the floor, I won the remainder of the sets.
I won the first three sets. He was actually playing quite strong, but I was playing great. I felt like I was getting out from everywhere. Still the sets were close because...well...he's that good, and ...well... I ain't that good. Then he won the fourth set. Then the fifth set went hill-hill, and he won it.
During the sixth set, I was getting pretty tired. I normally don't stay up that late, and I got a little less sleep than usual the night before. I looked up. He was focused, running out again. It seemed whenever I would hook him, he'd kick two rails and stick me....
I almost made a comment about being tired, and then I slapped myself, remembering what my mother used to say about the man whining about having no shoes in front of a man who has no feet.
The sixth set went to the hill. I broke dry with the 9 settling in the jaws. He caromed it in.
So now we were even with two sets to go.
He seemed perfectly fine, except his eyes got irritated and started watering. His contacts were really bothering him. His eyes were red, and he could barely see. I got up three to one in that set, and I realized I'd won the last two games because he couldn't see. He went to the bathroom to try to fix things (he had contacts). He came back and shot. He really couldn't see.
It was clear to me I wasn't going to feel right if I continued. It was 2:00 am. He'd been playing for 33 hours. If it wasn't for his eyes, it seemed he could have played for another 33 hours.
I said, "we're even. let's quit."
"Thank you," he said.
So let's hear some other stamina stories...
Time heals all wounds
Time is on my side
Time and tide wait for no man
a Time for every purpose under heaven
Time spent with a cat is never wasted
....
Time separates all players....
I usually only go out one night a week--Tuesday. This week my wife was out of town yesterday, so I went out Wednesday night as well.
So Tuesday I arrived at the pool hall 4:30 pm, and I played five cheap 9-ball races to 7 on a big table against ND3/4 (third or fourth best player in ND). He was giving me 2 games on the wire. I finished up one set by the 7:30 pm start of 8-ball league. After league, about 10:00 pm, ND3/4 wanted to give me 6 games to 16 bar box 8-ball for a c-note. We played two sets, and I won them both.
Meanwhile ND1/2 was playing ND1/2 (two top players in ND) some $40 9-ball races to 5.
At 1:30 am I went home. Then I slept for a while. Then I went to a 8:00 am dentist appt. Then I went to work. Then I got home at 6:00 pm and cooked dinner for my mother-in-law. Then at 8:30 pm I went back to the poolhall.
There I saw ND1/2 playing ND3/4. ND3/4 was getting one game on the wire to 9. ND3/4 was stuck 800 jujubees, and they were playing for 200. I soon learned they had been playing since I left 17 hours earlier. In fact both had been playing for 27 or 28 hours at that point.
ND3/4 looked absolutely awful. He was struggling, staggering, slouched. ND1/2 was focused and playing strong. I thought I was in a scene from that 1961 pool movie--what's it called again?
ND3/4 quit after that set and was helped out of the poolroom.
Then ND1/2 turned to me and said,
"you next? I'll give you the last three."
I thought he was joking.
"you have to play 8 sets," I replied with a smile
"8 races to 7 for 200 each," he said with no smile.
Now this guy has given me the last 4 in the past. Sure the last 3 is less weight, but he's been playing for 28 hours for cryin out loud! It's 9:00 pm. Eight sets is gonna take us till 3:00 am at least... He's gotta crash at some point ???
I agreed to 8 sets for 100 instead of 200. I said, making sure it was clear, "you gotta play all 8." He assured me that if he collapsed on the floor, I won the remainder of the sets.
I won the first three sets. He was actually playing quite strong, but I was playing great. I felt like I was getting out from everywhere. Still the sets were close because...well...he's that good, and ...well... I ain't that good. Then he won the fourth set. Then the fifth set went hill-hill, and he won it.
During the sixth set, I was getting pretty tired. I normally don't stay up that late, and I got a little less sleep than usual the night before. I looked up. He was focused, running out again. It seemed whenever I would hook him, he'd kick two rails and stick me....
I almost made a comment about being tired, and then I slapped myself, remembering what my mother used to say about the man whining about having no shoes in front of a man who has no feet.
The sixth set went to the hill. I broke dry with the 9 settling in the jaws. He caromed it in.
So now we were even with two sets to go.
He seemed perfectly fine, except his eyes got irritated and started watering. His contacts were really bothering him. His eyes were red, and he could barely see. I got up three to one in that set, and I realized I'd won the last two games because he couldn't see. He went to the bathroom to try to fix things (he had contacts). He came back and shot. He really couldn't see.
It was clear to me I wasn't going to feel right if I continued. It was 2:00 am. He'd been playing for 33 hours. If it wasn't for his eyes, it seemed he could have played for another 33 hours.
I said, "we're even. let's quit."
"Thank you," he said.
So let's hear some other stamina stories...
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I'm 63 years old. Lemme tell ya, what I used to do all night now takes all night to do. No way I could play that long. 3-4 hours is about it for me these days. I love my sleep like I love a good prime rib dinner.
My attempt at a semi-exaggerated satire of several top players (not all) was apparently a complete and utter failure. Nonetheless, I would like to congratulate you on harnessing your unheard-of mystical super power. 