I'm a huge fan of Efren and after his great accomplishments at this weeks DCC I wanted to start a thread and hear about some Efren stories,sightings,meetings,you know,just real-life stories to enlighten all of us Efren fans.
IE:JoeyA story a few years back of sitting beside Efren on a flight after the DCC.And Roy's story couple of years ago of backing Efren in some tourny at the DCC.(sorry,cant remember exactly,but thats why of this thread).
Heres my tiny encounter with the Great Reyes...........
A few years ago my team won a trip to the BCA's,we checked in,grabbed our sticks and headed down to check out the tables.After some practice time we head to the casino area to grab a beer(our team loves to drink)LOL.
Standing around checking out the sights I happen to notice Efren playing some Roulette.I say to my team mates "thats Efren Reyes".To my astonishment they say "Who's that?".I felt like going upstairs,packing my bags and heading home.LMAO.
Well right there I knew I had to get his autograph or something BUT on what?.What better thing to get signed by the greatest player of all-time.........My CUE.So there I was running from work station to work station looking for someone who happened to have a Sharpy.Nothing!!!!
Then I ran to the little store they have at the Riv,they were out of Sharpies but I practically begged the counter lady to see if she had one somewhere.....SHE DID.
Ran back,grabbed my shaft out of my case and kindly asked Efren if he could sign my cue.Without hesitation,he did.A very humble guy.That made my whole trip that year special.
I had hoped Efren would do well this DCC,BUT again the guy amazes me.WOW,congrats again Efren,you are trully a "MAGICIAN".
This is from a trip report from, I think, the 2000 US Open 1pocket Tournament, up in Kalamazoo, picking it up on day two of the event.
(insert flashback music):
Saturday morning I headed over to the Playground and just tried to get my mind set before my match with, arguably, the greatest all around pool player of all time. When I got to the tournament room, the line was: you could bet either way, whether I'd get to one. I decided that that's what I'd shoot for: to take one game off Efren Reyes. I'd told AllenB, the night before, that I would really appreciate it if he could snap a photo of me lagging with Efren, to prove to future generations that this match had actually taken place. Alan said no problem, and, a man of his word, was there setup in time with his camera and tripod to capture the moment and has already sent me the photo.
Well, we were put on table two, right in front of the largest section of bleachers and they were packed. Everyone wanted to see Efren play. I was just along for the ride. I put down a good lag, but Efren put the ball within an inch of the rail. I looked at my watch. It was one o'clock.
The first game did not go well, for me. He broke the balls well, and I was under the gun the entire game. When he didn't have a shot, he'd gently spin the cue ball one or two rails and snuggle it up against a ball. I, and the crowd, laughed out loud at the positions he'd put me in. I lost the first game 8-0. It was while I was racking the balls to break (it was a rack your own tournament) that the dawning realization came upon me that it was quite possible that, not only could I lose the match 4-0, I could, conceivably: lose the match against a player of this caliber WITHOUT SCORING A SINGLE BALL. Oh, the humiliation. What do you tell the guys back at the pool hall? What will everyone back on RSB think? That you got a chance to play Efren Reyes and didn't score a single ball!!?? Suddenly, not only did my goal of winning one game seem like the only way to maintain my dignity and salvage the honor of RSB, but it also seemed a goal that was now, on further reflection, very, very far away.
I broke well the second game. Shortly after the break, he left me frozen on the side rail just above my pocket. I looked at the rack for a long time. There was an unfrozen three ball combination that just might go. But the only way to hit it right was to send the cue ball into a fourth ball and then have it carom into the third ball in the combination chain. I'd have to hit it at warp speed to get enough energy on the shot to get the last ball in the combination to the pocket. If it didn't go, I was toast, because the stack was going to explode.
IMO, one of the more beautiful shots in pool is when a cluster of balls is stuck hard and the object ball eventually emerges from the stack and slowly begins marching towards it's assigned pocket. Despite shooting with brio, the two ball virtually crawled towards it's destination with total mayhem all around it. As I watched the shot, it seemed as if all the other object balls, and the cue ball, were moving and every single one of them wanted to kiss out the two ball. But somehow it made it safe and sound to its destination. The ball dropped. The crowd burst into applause.
Still, the balls were spread too wide for me to get out. As the game progressed, we got to the point at which I needed two and Efren needed one. And then, something began to become apparent to me, and then to everyone in the stands, and eventually to Efren: Lou was banking well today. Real well. Well, actually, I started banking like god.
Efren kissed into a shot and sold out the last two balls. A modest cut shot with moderately difficult position on the out ball. I missed. All I could hear in the stands were muttered, "Well, he had a chance..." A few innings later, I missed a thin hit to play safe and had to spot a ball. Now I needed three. But then it happened. I banked three and out to take the second game. The monkey was off my back.
Efren took the next game. Twice he tied me up so bad that my only option was to kick three rails and then two rails for an intentional scratch. But I pulled both of them off. The crowd started applauding my shots and the increasingly ridiculous accuracy and consistency of my bank shots.
I took the fourth game 8-0 to tie it up at 2-2. The fifth game we went down to the last three balls, all down table on the side rail just below the side pocket on his side. I needed all three and went for the home run: a carom and combination bank that would send two towards my hole and the third up table to my side. The shot went kaablewwweee, and left Efren straight in. Nonetheless, my banks continued to go, as if on wires.
The last game was another battle, but he was just too strong. I lose 4-2. I looked at my watch, it was 3:30. I had just wrestled with Efren Reyes, in a race to four, for two and a half hours and taken two games off him. I swear I'm not making this up, but during the match Buddy Hall was playing on one side of us, Steve Cook on the other, and during the course of the match I got at least six rounds of applause from the crowd for my bank shots. There was not one round of applause for Hall, Cook, or Reyes. Buddy, in particular, kept looking over wondering what the hell was going on.
As I shook Efren's hand after the match, he said smiling in the high clipped accent he has, "Louis bank good. Miss straight in." That about summed it up.
Lou Figueroa
