I'm no road player but have been around the block. Felt like sharing a few of my favorite pool memories before they all fade. The one that comes to mind first I will dub "The High Run Pot".
The year was 1997. I was 17 years old and was starting to play really well. I had been living on a pool table for 4-5 years and while I wasn't a very confident pool player and didn't have a lot of firepower, I didn't make many errors. I enjoyed straight pool as that was the first game my dad taught me.
Toby Dick was a top local player in my home town, Rochester, MN. He was considered by some to be a shortstop, but he had many runs in the hundreds playing 14.1 and played jam up for the cash. I used to hang on his matches when he gambled and longed to be the guy in the ring.
The pool room proprietor decided to have a straight pool tournament that would span the course of a month. 10 players, round robin, 2 games/weekend each, 100 point games. The two players with the best win/loss record would play in the finals, payout was for first and second. HOWEVER- everyone would throw in $25 to the 'high run pot', and whoever had the highest run in the tournament would take that down. The only catch was that the run had to be in the game, so once you hit 100 any more balls you ran wouldn't count.
Early in the tournament I ran what was at the time my career best. I was at 36, and I ran out the game for an official run of 64. I kept shooting of course and finished at 83 which was my new high run (prior 76, funny how you still remember those things). But anyway, 64 was the number to beat. And considering the games were to 100 that didn't leave a lot of opportunity, once someone was past 36 with a miss my run was safe.
Or so I thought. Toby was the tournament favorite, and he announced then and there he would beat my high run.
The matches went on and Toby posted some decent runs, but couldn't seem to get past the 60 mark. He'd run 30s and 40s, but then he'd either get tied up, or he would run out of game due to the 100 finish line.
Finally he had but one game to play left. At this point it was already established that we'd meet in the finals. But he insisted on playing the game out just for the opportunity at the high run.
The game started uneventful. He ran some balls but missed at around 45 points. My run was now safe- or SO I THOUGHT! Toby was so determined to beat me that he took 3 intentional fouls in a row to go back 15 points so his total score was 30 and he had one last shot at the high run! Talk about competitive!
With one more inning I wasn't too worried, but that's when it happened. He was willing it to come together in that special way that champions do in the clutch. Toby started popping balls in the corners, and suddenly as the racks were cleared my run not only didn't seem safe, it seemed incredibly vulnerable. His run had started in the middle of the rack but he got through the break ball and the numbers started adding up. 6, 20, 34, 48, he was on a tear. The pockets were big, the balls were opening up like Christmas presents, and it didn't look like anything would slow him down. He cleared the next rack and was at 62 balls, and what's more he was PERFECT on the break shot! All he had to do was get two balls open and come up with a shot and my high run was demolished.
I could barely force myself to watch as he got down to shoot that break shot. The pressure was unbearable, and I was mixed between praying for a miracle that would preserve my lead, and rooting for my boyhood hero. Toby got down on the shot without breaking his rhythm, took dead aim, and FIRED that ball into the center of the pocket at break speed! The rack spread open and balls opened up everywhere, meanwhile the cue ball drifted nicely into the center of the table. There was a ball right in front of the side and plenty more to choose from.
But wouldn't you know it? The break ball itself, the one he had whacked and split the wicket- that son of a gun hit the back of the pocket just wrong and spit back up onto the playing surface, balanced right on the lip!
Toby, along with the rest of the room, did a complete double take as he stared at the offending ball. He stood up and his face turned redder than a 3 ball as he shouted slowly "Did You See That?!?!?"
Despite his cries of anguish the rules clearly stood, and his song worthy rally was ended. The game finished in anticlimactic format.
The finals themselves were rather a let down. He cleaned me up pretty good, and I had to settle for 2nd place. It was a rather nice consolation that I still ended up being the top prize finisher, thanks to the assistance of that good ol' high run pot...
The year was 1997. I was 17 years old and was starting to play really well. I had been living on a pool table for 4-5 years and while I wasn't a very confident pool player and didn't have a lot of firepower, I didn't make many errors. I enjoyed straight pool as that was the first game my dad taught me.
Toby Dick was a top local player in my home town, Rochester, MN. He was considered by some to be a shortstop, but he had many runs in the hundreds playing 14.1 and played jam up for the cash. I used to hang on his matches when he gambled and longed to be the guy in the ring.
The pool room proprietor decided to have a straight pool tournament that would span the course of a month. 10 players, round robin, 2 games/weekend each, 100 point games. The two players with the best win/loss record would play in the finals, payout was for first and second. HOWEVER- everyone would throw in $25 to the 'high run pot', and whoever had the highest run in the tournament would take that down. The only catch was that the run had to be in the game, so once you hit 100 any more balls you ran wouldn't count.
Early in the tournament I ran what was at the time my career best. I was at 36, and I ran out the game for an official run of 64. I kept shooting of course and finished at 83 which was my new high run (prior 76, funny how you still remember those things). But anyway, 64 was the number to beat. And considering the games were to 100 that didn't leave a lot of opportunity, once someone was past 36 with a miss my run was safe.
Or so I thought. Toby was the tournament favorite, and he announced then and there he would beat my high run.
The matches went on and Toby posted some decent runs, but couldn't seem to get past the 60 mark. He'd run 30s and 40s, but then he'd either get tied up, or he would run out of game due to the 100 finish line.
Finally he had but one game to play left. At this point it was already established that we'd meet in the finals. But he insisted on playing the game out just for the opportunity at the high run.
The game started uneventful. He ran some balls but missed at around 45 points. My run was now safe- or SO I THOUGHT! Toby was so determined to beat me that he took 3 intentional fouls in a row to go back 15 points so his total score was 30 and he had one last shot at the high run! Talk about competitive!
With one more inning I wasn't too worried, but that's when it happened. He was willing it to come together in that special way that champions do in the clutch. Toby started popping balls in the corners, and suddenly as the racks were cleared my run not only didn't seem safe, it seemed incredibly vulnerable. His run had started in the middle of the rack but he got through the break ball and the numbers started adding up. 6, 20, 34, 48, he was on a tear. The pockets were big, the balls were opening up like Christmas presents, and it didn't look like anything would slow him down. He cleared the next rack and was at 62 balls, and what's more he was PERFECT on the break shot! All he had to do was get two balls open and come up with a shot and my high run was demolished.
I could barely force myself to watch as he got down to shoot that break shot. The pressure was unbearable, and I was mixed between praying for a miracle that would preserve my lead, and rooting for my boyhood hero. Toby got down on the shot without breaking his rhythm, took dead aim, and FIRED that ball into the center of the pocket at break speed! The rack spread open and balls opened up everywhere, meanwhile the cue ball drifted nicely into the center of the table. There was a ball right in front of the side and plenty more to choose from.
But wouldn't you know it? The break ball itself, the one he had whacked and split the wicket- that son of a gun hit the back of the pocket just wrong and spit back up onto the playing surface, balanced right on the lip!
Toby, along with the rest of the room, did a complete double take as he stared at the offending ball. He stood up and his face turned redder than a 3 ball as he shouted slowly "Did You See That?!?!?"
Despite his cries of anguish the rules clearly stood, and his song worthy rally was ended. The game finished in anticlimactic format.
The finals themselves were rather a let down. He cleaned me up pretty good, and I had to settle for 2nd place. It was a rather nice consolation that I still ended up being the top prize finisher, thanks to the assistance of that good ol' high run pot...
