Well, talk about funny.
I went down to a small town outside of Raleigh to measure a carpet job. Pretty good commercial job, actually. Thanks to God. Anyway, on the way back, we (friend and me) stopped in to this restaurant " _ _ _ _ Ale House" The name escapes me. Well, they had like seven or six tables inside with all of them going.
So, we order and were sitting next to a kind of divider that separates the bar and the tables. The Prime Rib sandwich is great by the way. So, my friend is "kind of" a decent player, and wants to really tune up his game. So, we're talking about his break and how bad mine is. I mean I just lost a set to a guy getting the break. I broke so bad, it was in his favor. I ran out when I was supposed to for the most part, but .. ahh fu#4 it. I lost. So, beside us, this guy thought I was talking about his break. From across the divider this guy chimes in to our conversation.
"Hey, if I break so bad, why don't you play me some?"
"I'm not talking about you, dude. Chill. I got beat a while back and broke the balls so bad that I almost quit pool."
"I heard you. You were talking about me. Well, let me tell you something. I'm an APA 7. No what that means? It's as high as you can go. So, if I'm so bad, I'll play your baldass some."
"Chill. First off, you don't want to play me any. I've seen you play, and you need weight. I don't want to play. I'm just gonna eat and leave. Relax, dude."
"Just what I thought. All mouth. I guess you played your way through college too!" Then, a small crowd walks over and everyone's laughing. And... you know me. Here it comes.
"You go pick me a cue off the wall that rolls even halfway straight, let that young lady hold my tie (Hot, by any man's standards), and I'll play you some for fifty a game."
It took four of them to put up the hundred, and we agreed to play a race to nine. Long story short, I miscued three times and hung up a nine and still won 9-4. He told me I wouldn't leave with their money, that I hustled them. Oh, I walked out after finishing my meal. Noone said a word as we left.
After me winning the first game by running out from the two ball, this guy was stunned. His shirt was even shaking. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Anyway, after the beating I took at the hands of a very good player recently, I have to remind myself that hey, "There's always somebody that plays better; but, I'll play most." The difference between this guy and the guy who was giving me the break is that Steve didn't miss balls. We played four and a half hours and I can count, probably on one (maybe two hands) the number of balls he missed (that he really was trying to pocket). This guy I could've played with for days and he might not win a set. Of course, I'd have to win a ton of these to make up for that one loss to Steve moneywise. But, there is a lesson here. I had lost interest in pool a little. Kind of felt "beaten", you know? Then, this small reminder of the difference in a poolplayer and someone who plays pool.
I'd say most of us on here could play or at least match up with quite a few. It's not just a game to us. After all of the hours of play and reading, and learning, there is a kind of bond. And "pool pride." So I guess I'll have to make time to hit balls tomorrow.
Just thought it was funny.
I went down to a small town outside of Raleigh to measure a carpet job. Pretty good commercial job, actually. Thanks to God. Anyway, on the way back, we (friend and me) stopped in to this restaurant " _ _ _ _ Ale House" The name escapes me. Well, they had like seven or six tables inside with all of them going.
So, we order and were sitting next to a kind of divider that separates the bar and the tables. The Prime Rib sandwich is great by the way. So, my friend is "kind of" a decent player, and wants to really tune up his game. So, we're talking about his break and how bad mine is. I mean I just lost a set to a guy getting the break. I broke so bad, it was in his favor. I ran out when I was supposed to for the most part, but .. ahh fu#4 it. I lost. So, beside us, this guy thought I was talking about his break. From across the divider this guy chimes in to our conversation.
"Hey, if I break so bad, why don't you play me some?"
"I'm not talking about you, dude. Chill. I got beat a while back and broke the balls so bad that I almost quit pool."
"I heard you. You were talking about me. Well, let me tell you something. I'm an APA 7. No what that means? It's as high as you can go. So, if I'm so bad, I'll play your baldass some."
"Chill. First off, you don't want to play me any. I've seen you play, and you need weight. I don't want to play. I'm just gonna eat and leave. Relax, dude."
"Just what I thought. All mouth. I guess you played your way through college too!" Then, a small crowd walks over and everyone's laughing. And... you know me. Here it comes.
"You go pick me a cue off the wall that rolls even halfway straight, let that young lady hold my tie (Hot, by any man's standards), and I'll play you some for fifty a game."
It took four of them to put up the hundred, and we agreed to play a race to nine. Long story short, I miscued three times and hung up a nine and still won 9-4. He told me I wouldn't leave with their money, that I hustled them. Oh, I walked out after finishing my meal. Noone said a word as we left.
After me winning the first game by running out from the two ball, this guy was stunned. His shirt was even shaking. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Anyway, after the beating I took at the hands of a very good player recently, I have to remind myself that hey, "There's always somebody that plays better; but, I'll play most." The difference between this guy and the guy who was giving me the break is that Steve didn't miss balls. We played four and a half hours and I can count, probably on one (maybe two hands) the number of balls he missed (that he really was trying to pocket). This guy I could've played with for days and he might not win a set. Of course, I'd have to win a ton of these to make up for that one loss to Steve moneywise. But, there is a lesson here. I had lost interest in pool a little. Kind of felt "beaten", you know? Then, this small reminder of the difference in a poolplayer and someone who plays pool.
I'd say most of us on here could play or at least match up with quite a few. It's not just a game to us. After all of the hours of play and reading, and learning, there is a kind of bond. And "pool pride." So I guess I'll have to make time to hit balls tomorrow.
Just thought it was funny.
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