So I'm out of the tournament.
I was hoping that after winning my first round match and losing the second I'd get a break and not play again until this morning, but for unknown reasons they plowed through three rounds the first day of the tournament. At least I get to sleep in
Around 11am I am back at the tournament room wandering around when I see Justin way up on this big stage in front of the TAR arena. I saunter over and greet the big guy and mention that him being up so high on the stage, he looks like at any moment he could break out into a chorus of "Dont Cry for Me Argentina" from the balcony scene from "Evita." We share a laugh and I ask him how things are going and he says, "Great. Nothing's broken yet." I tell him that if he gets stuck and needs a voice to do commentary I'm highly available for the rest of the day and he says, "Oh yeah, how about the 1pm match with Larry Schwartz? Don't know who the match will be yet though." And I tell him that'll be great.
So I grab a Starbucks triple cappuccino to wake up and do a pass around all the vendor booths. Even after years of seeing the same stuff over and over again at all the tournaments, I still love walking around looking at all the cues, pool gimcracks, t-shirts, and repair men running their lathes. I buy the obligatory event t-shirt for my wife/sponsor who likes to wear them as a pajama top, and then stop at the Kamui booth where something new has caught my eye.
It is a spray bottle, maybe six inches high, that offers to keep your hands dry. Now, my hands don't sweat, but after a half hour or so of play, they're not exactly bone dry either. Years ago when they first came out I tried a glove but didn't care for it, preferring to be able to feel the shaft. (This was also at the height of Michael Jackson running around with his white sequined glove, so there was that thing going on too.). So I chat with the two lads manning the booth and ask about the product and they tell me it was developed by some guy who has other products he's developed for golfers and they let me spritz some on my hands and tell me to rub it in and let it dry. Once dry they say its good until you wash it off. I do as instructed and tell them I'll wait a bit and decide whether I want to buy some.
So 1pm comes around and Larry and I don headsets and mikes. For those of you who don't know Larry, he's a great guy and long time player from Chicago. He's also a columnist for BD and has authored the definitive work on the game of 8ball entitled, "The 8-Ball Handbook for Winners". The match we have drawn is SVB v Darren Appleton, unbelievably, a loser's side match.
Larry and I seem to work effortlessly as a team, doing the table analysis, weaving in past events, experiences, and players such as the late great Johnny Ervolino, and generally having a good time. Down on the table, Shane takes advantage of every microscopic opening Darren affords him and wins going away 3-0.
Afterwards I decide that my hands feel pretty good. Not totally dry, but then I didn't spray on much of the product, so I return to the booth and buy a bottle and head over to Best Billiards to hit a few. Once there I reapply the juice and start playing. And my hands do indeed feel pretty good. The only caution I would offer to those who might contemplate using this product is that, because you spray it on your bridge hand and rub it in with your udder hand, you somewhat obviously end up with it on your grip hand. Depending on what you like, this could be a good thing or a bad thing, but the wrap of your cue will slide effortlessly through the fingers of your grip.
After my little practice session I drive over to The Strip to The Mirage to have dinner at Onda, my favorite Italian restaurant in Vegas. I sit down at the bar and Raul the bartender greets me like an old friend, this being the third consecutive year I've visited him. While drinking a pre-dinner drink, I log on to AZ and post a few responses to earlier comments to my dispatches from my iPhone. Dinner itself is wonderful -- prosciutto and osso bucco, prosecco and a nice California zin.
Returning to the Rio parking lot I swear I see legendary road man, Jack Cooney, and his wife Barbara climbing into a car. Once inside the convention center I eventually decide to sweat the Cory Duel v Bustamonte match. My fellow sweaters and I drink beer and kibitz and it's all pretty much a great time, with both players displaying some pretty amazing touch shots and brilliant creativity. I finally leave around midnight when Corey and Django both accumulate a small collection of change in front of their respective pockets.
So here I is, 36,000 feet up, flying out of McCarren International on a SWA flight back home. If you haven't done something like attend a big time pool tournament in Vegas I encourage you to start saving up your kopecks now. You'll love it.
Lou Figueroa
I was hoping that after winning my first round match and losing the second I'd get a break and not play again until this morning, but for unknown reasons they plowed through three rounds the first day of the tournament. At least I get to sleep in
Around 11am I am back at the tournament room wandering around when I see Justin way up on this big stage in front of the TAR arena. I saunter over and greet the big guy and mention that him being up so high on the stage, he looks like at any moment he could break out into a chorus of "Dont Cry for Me Argentina" from the balcony scene from "Evita." We share a laugh and I ask him how things are going and he says, "Great. Nothing's broken yet." I tell him that if he gets stuck and needs a voice to do commentary I'm highly available for the rest of the day and he says, "Oh yeah, how about the 1pm match with Larry Schwartz? Don't know who the match will be yet though." And I tell him that'll be great.
So I grab a Starbucks triple cappuccino to wake up and do a pass around all the vendor booths. Even after years of seeing the same stuff over and over again at all the tournaments, I still love walking around looking at all the cues, pool gimcracks, t-shirts, and repair men running their lathes. I buy the obligatory event t-shirt for my wife/sponsor who likes to wear them as a pajama top, and then stop at the Kamui booth where something new has caught my eye.
It is a spray bottle, maybe six inches high, that offers to keep your hands dry. Now, my hands don't sweat, but after a half hour or so of play, they're not exactly bone dry either. Years ago when they first came out I tried a glove but didn't care for it, preferring to be able to feel the shaft. (This was also at the height of Michael Jackson running around with his white sequined glove, so there was that thing going on too.). So I chat with the two lads manning the booth and ask about the product and they tell me it was developed by some guy who has other products he's developed for golfers and they let me spritz some on my hands and tell me to rub it in and let it dry. Once dry they say its good until you wash it off. I do as instructed and tell them I'll wait a bit and decide whether I want to buy some.
So 1pm comes around and Larry and I don headsets and mikes. For those of you who don't know Larry, he's a great guy and long time player from Chicago. He's also a columnist for BD and has authored the definitive work on the game of 8ball entitled, "The 8-Ball Handbook for Winners". The match we have drawn is SVB v Darren Appleton, unbelievably, a loser's side match.
Larry and I seem to work effortlessly as a team, doing the table analysis, weaving in past events, experiences, and players such as the late great Johnny Ervolino, and generally having a good time. Down on the table, Shane takes advantage of every microscopic opening Darren affords him and wins going away 3-0.
Afterwards I decide that my hands feel pretty good. Not totally dry, but then I didn't spray on much of the product, so I return to the booth and buy a bottle and head over to Best Billiards to hit a few. Once there I reapply the juice and start playing. And my hands do indeed feel pretty good. The only caution I would offer to those who might contemplate using this product is that, because you spray it on your bridge hand and rub it in with your udder hand, you somewhat obviously end up with it on your grip hand. Depending on what you like, this could be a good thing or a bad thing, but the wrap of your cue will slide effortlessly through the fingers of your grip.
After my little practice session I drive over to The Strip to The Mirage to have dinner at Onda, my favorite Italian restaurant in Vegas. I sit down at the bar and Raul the bartender greets me like an old friend, this being the third consecutive year I've visited him. While drinking a pre-dinner drink, I log on to AZ and post a few responses to earlier comments to my dispatches from my iPhone. Dinner itself is wonderful -- prosciutto and osso bucco, prosecco and a nice California zin.
Returning to the Rio parking lot I swear I see legendary road man, Jack Cooney, and his wife Barbara climbing into a car. Once inside the convention center I eventually decide to sweat the Cory Duel v Bustamonte match. My fellow sweaters and I drink beer and kibitz and it's all pretty much a great time, with both players displaying some pretty amazing touch shots and brilliant creativity. I finally leave around midnight when Corey and Django both accumulate a small collection of change in front of their respective pockets.
So here I is, 36,000 feet up, flying out of McCarren International on a SWA flight back home. If you haven't done something like attend a big time pool tournament in Vegas I encourage you to start saving up your kopecks now. You'll love it.
Lou Figueroa
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(Sorry, I couldn't resist -- this is the first thought I had when viewing that website.)