Hi Lyn;
Here's more info on Scott Simonetti from the first time I ever met him . . . :thumbup:
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Got Published - "Double Kiss - Stories, Poems & Essays On The Art Of Billiards" - 05-17-2017, 04:06 PM
Hi Guys;
Just today I received my copy of the above titled book which, after a few years of hard work, has finally been published.
I am very happy for the Editor, Sean Thomas Dougherty, who pulled this all together.
And I'm proud and honored that the below story I wrote and originally posted right here on AZ, was chosen to be included in this book.
One more time, Scotty, thanks for your class and for what will be a lifelong great memory for me.
best,
brian kc
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Unarmed And Dangerous
Brian Carroll
After much practice in the months preceding Super Billiards Expo, I was feeling pretty good about my chances to at least cash in the Amateur Open.
Uncharacteristically for me, I showed up at my first match table about twenty-five minutes early so I could get in stroke. I was hittin' 'em good. Some of my homeboys were sitting there to watch the match and even a couple of other friends, non homeboys, who saw me as they were just passing by, also decided to grab a seat to watch me play. It was nice to have all the support.
While putting the finishing touches on my warm up, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a guy I didn't know, sitting there messing with his phone. I'm thinking this is my opponent, who showed up three minutes before start time, like I usually do. I asked him if he wanted to warm up. Barely looking away from his phone, he said "no thanks, I'm good".
As he said this I noticed that he was missing an arm.
I'm now thinking two thoughts:
1. I have great admiration for someone trying to compete with just one arm.
2. I wonder who I'll draw in round 2.
It's 10:59, we start in just a minute and my opponent is finally getting his gear together, including putting on a prosthetic arm, and not just any arm, mind you. This thing has what looks like a high tech pool bridge built in. Good for him and his dedication.
I broke game one, made it to the 6 or 7 and then dogged something and my opponent gets up and in *very* smooth fashion he cleans up the remaining few balls. Obviously, he's pretty comfortable shooting with this device.
Game 2, he breaks, and it's pretty effing hard. The balls all scatter nicely, and one drops. He looks like he knows what he's doing, and very precisely, he runs out.
My sophomoric friends are starting to whisper and needle me a little, and as they do, this guy is starting to pull away. It's like 3-1 and he leaves himself jacked up tight on a ball. Good! Now what, buddy boy?!?
Here's what: This contraption he's wearing has an adjustable height capability and it freaking telescopes, too. Are you kidding me? He bridges perfectly over the ball and continues to run out. It's obvious now; I'm playing the Six Million Dollar Man.
My friends are watching me squirm and breaking my balls so bad right about now. One friend, in particular, my dear pal Joe, says in a voice like he's about to piss his pants, barely containing his laughter: "I can't wait 'til we get home so I can tell this story to everybody". What an ass.
Okay, back to the match. This guy wins the first set, 5-2.
Second set was starting out much like the first. He's getting out from everywhere, and the scant few times he doesn't, I come to the table not liking what I see. Did I mention he plays jam up safeties, too? But believe me, I'm still thankful for any chance to get out of my chair. This fellow can play!
I can't fade the thought that I'm getting my liver shot out by an amputee, I mean, what could be worse? So then he has a long reach shot and has to stretch way out and even telescopes his bridge. As he's draped over the table I notice he's also missing a leg. OMG, I'm getting a smackdown from a *double* amputee!!!! WTF!
My demeanor had to be exactly like how Corey Deuel looked at that Glass City Open when Kid Delicious laid a major package on him and Corey was Gorilla-glued to his chair, smiling to himself and shaking his head like 'is this really happening to me?'
So, I'm sitting there with what must be the exact same look of resignation, my buddies are off the hook now jabbing at me while I watch this match that I practiced so hard for, continuing to slip away. One more time, I think, nothing could be worse, right? Wrong again...
The NYC Grind media crew glides on over to memorialize the last bit of my ass-whooping on film. Yep, here they are getting the final couple of racks of me planted in my chair; looking all Corey Deuel-like, and, oh yeah, the other guy is running out. Again.
As I conceded the last 9-ball of the match and got up to shake hands, I asked him about his incredible prosthetic. He said the late, great, cuemaker, Paul Fanelli made it for him. I learned that my opponent was a former police sergeant and that he had a run in with a ferocious infection and that's what caused all the damage to him.
In addition to his totally impressive play, he was a complete gentleman and a real pleasure to compete with in our match.
My emotions at the end were all over the place. Sure I was frustrated over having suffered a first round loss, but I realized that short of winning the tourney, which wasn't likely to happen anyway, nothing could have been better, really, than losing to this man, someone who had just earned my total respect and admiration.
I stayed at the table for a while longer hitting some balls and a Jersey friend, Swiss Chris, was getting on the next table to prepare for his 1 o'clock match. He asked if I was also getting ready to play. As I began telling him what just happened he started laughing and said, "holy crap, you played Scott Simonetti. He's an open player."
Of course, over the next few days of the event, when people would ask how I was doing in the tourney; I had to answer them, right?
I told this story to JV at Classic Cues who nearly fell off his chair laughing as he said, "you drew Scott Simonetti, he plays r-e-a-l good".
Andrew Cleary got a good laugh, too, I think he said Scott was a two time Tri-State champion.
So, it seems all the New York and New Jersey guys know him well. For the life of me, I don't know how he flew under my radar, but he won't any more.
I hope I get another shot at him, and if I do, I swear, I'm gonna look for a more comfy chair.
THE END
