I watched the whole thing unfold.
You would not leave Eric alone. You were completely and totally the instigator and deserved to get punched out WHICH I believe you were hoping for so you'd have an excuse to not play the match. It wasn't until both of you picked up pool balls in your fists that I think a dim bulb lit up in your head that you weren't going to just get punched out but that you were going to require major reconstructive surgery and you stopped. It also helped that Mitch intervened.
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About an hour before the match, there is a kerfuffle in the main room across from where I’m standing with Dustin and Mike. John starts woofing at Eric. I want to clarify: Eric was not part of my crew. I know Eric going back to the days of RSB and when I saw him at Sandcastle I went up to greet him. That’s it.
“Come on Eric, let’s play a quick race to five for a thousand,” John woofs. Eric basically tells John to go fornicate himself. But John persists. He will not stop goading Eric and soon Eric has had enough and he and John are literally nose-to-nose, pool balls clutched in fists. I’m watching all this from the other side of the pool room and thinking, “There will be no match and oh, BTW, John is going to require some serious dental work tomorrow.” Fortunately, AZer, Mitch, is nearby and he steps in and reminds both parties that many folks want to see the match come off and they should back off and not jeopardize the game. They separate.
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Lou Figueroa