I've been using TOI for 2-3 months and it's starting to really gel for me.
This past Wednesday night I played in a weekly tournament. A guy that's become a bit of a regular in the room (who's pretty sporty and hadn't played in the league in several years, so he of course got underrated when he returned this season) was there. He's soooooomewhat of a known quantity. I've seen him shoot pretty lights out WHEN HE WANTS TO.....and I've also seen him just goof off and 1-stroke it, not even really getting into his full stance, when he's either distracted or is possibly looking for a game against someone and doesn't want to show his true speed.
Anyway, this particular guy shows up with his brother. His brother is a total unknown to everyone else in the room. I notice he's scouting my opening match pretty intently. I soon found out that he's waiting for the winner.
I play absolutely awful in that first match. I'd shown up just before the tourney started and got virtually no warm-up time. I was assigned to a table that's different than all the rest in the room and I really don't care for it. The cloth is completely different and it's in a cramped corner. I was up against a guy that's actually rated 1 level above me, but he's a glorified banger. If you leave him an open table and let him get in a groove, he CAN run out. BUT, a couple of good safeties and he wilts like week-old lettuce in July. He'll pound the balls everywhere, with little regard to where they're going, if you frustrate him. When that happens, either he slops in a bunch of stuff, of which you could still be in trouble, or you're going to run over him like a freight train.
Well, I was already in a bad mood, been sick as a dog for 2 weeks and I'm in conditions that I just don't like. Mark me down as a whiney ***** for that night, but I never say anything. It's just something that I hold inside. To top it off, this little pool hall has the grill going and I'm sweating in there. I learned a valuable lesson at this particular place about 3 weeks ago. Their equipment is very sensitive to the humidity. The pockets are playing tight. I struggle thru a few racks and I'm tied with the guy 2-2 or so. I keep tuning the TOI to the conditions and begin playing a bit more conservative, while using some safety play. My opponent starts his patented meltdown, as if on cue, and I end up breezing past him.
I'm immediately put up against the unknown player and I can tell he wants to play on the same table that I was just on. He'd been watching me struggle. I told him that I'd much rather play somewhere else, if he wouldn't mind. We pick out a different table and my road buddy whispers to me, "I have a bad feeling about this guy. Be careful." I nod, because I have the same feeling. My opponent asks me what we're racing to, as it's handicapped. We're going to a 6-5 race, with me being rated 2 levels under him. He proceeds to tell me that he hasn't shot since 2003. I look at him and say, "Yeah, that's exactly what every great pool player has ever told me. Let's go."
The second I saw him get into his stance (which actually looked a bit awkward, but I could tell was very comfortable FOR HIM), set his bridge and address the CB for the lag.....I knew I was in trouble. This guy was light years ahead of most in the room. He had a pre-shot routine. His fundamentals were very consistent. His position play was pretty much flawless. And.......I heard the "plink". If you don't know what the "plink" is.....you need to figure it out. He could pin the ball and pin it well. His stroke was very piercing and true. I was immediately overwhelmed and he's on the hill 5-1, before you could've even tied your Velcro shoes.
Now, this unknown player's brother and I have a short history together. I had beaten the brother twice in one night, pretty badly, in our first encounter a while back. He had been jonesin' for revenge and got it against me last weekend. He double-dipped me in the finals of a tournament, when I had just starting being' sick as a dog, and I was fairly miffed about it. He basically toyed with me and I felt somewhat humiliated by the whippin'.
Back to the match. I'm down 5-1. He's on the hill. I know the brother and his crew are in the corner watching and smiling to themselves, because I'm getting sawed off. So, I did something that I think might start to help me in the future. This may not work for everyone. I started to "play scared". It's hard to explain, but I just psyched myself up and purposefully told myself that this guy was a monster player (he's no Chip or Joey, he's just really damn good for around here) and that I've gotta nut up and run like the boogeyman is chasing me. And I did.
I get one open shot and carefully tune my TOI. Nail it. Great position. Next shot. Tune again. Split the wicket. I keep telling myself that this guy is trying to humiliate me. I can almost feel myself shaking, as I'm running on adrenaline now. Five minutes prior, I was trying to remain calm and obviously that wasn't working. I don't think it puts enough competitive pressure on me.
I see an opportunity to pocket a ball and play for a 2-way bank/safe. I get on it perfectly and bank the OB behind a cluster. The CB drifts to the opposite end of the table, eases off the rail and freezes behind the only object ball that's down there. He's hooked. And good. After telling me, "nice shot", he stares at it for a while. I look at it and realize an act of Congress won't get him out of this. He'd need the Special Forces with a helicopter to airlift the CB out and that ain't happenin'. He kicks and misses. I take CB in hand and proceed to pocket the OB, break up the cluster and run out.
A rack or 2 later, I'm still runnin' on fear.....and winning.....and he's starting to backtrack a bit. I'm pocketing what I can. I'm playing great safes when I need to. He's starting to have to kick at stuff and losing his groove.
He leaves me a very, very steep bank. It's one of those where it's a borderline crossover bank into the side.......or I'm going to have pinch it like a mofo AND hit it hard to ever so slightly curve it around an obstructing object ball. Kentucky style. I'm so jacked at this point, I give it maybe a 10 second stare, line up hard to the inside and smack it. It takes every bit of pinch....the OB gives that little intimidating hop in the air.....and whistles in an arc and curves around the obstruction right into the heart of the pocket. I can hear the wind exit my opponent's lungs, as he says, "nice shot", along with a respectful "tap tap". I run out.
It's hill-hill and he's looking pretty nervous. Definitely not as confident as when the match started. I'm wide-eyed like a kid in a candy store. We each pocket a ball or 2. Exchange a few safes. Then.....he misses. BUT, he leaves me a "scratch shot". One of those where you want to pocket a ball in the side, but you just don't have the angle. You just can't backcut it that far. To put it in the corner is certain death, as the side pocket is right there. I hitch up my jeans and tell myself that it's time to pin the paint off of this CB. It's the only thing I can do to NOT scratch. The 8-ball is frozen to the end rail below me and I know if it do this right, I may be able to suck it far enough down to get where I need to be.
I focus with TOI and think about an area the size of the head of a pin on the TOP of my cue tip. I stroke all the way thru and hear......the "plink". The 7 rockets down the table and smacks the back of the corner pocket. The CB takes a glance at the side pocket and then physics takes over. It sucks back down the rail and give me precise position, with an angle and not frozen to the rail, to get on the 8. I hear my opponent say "niiiiiiiiice shot" and the "tap tap". I bear down just as hard on the 8-ball as I've done with every other shot for the past 30 minutes and pocket it.....drifting down the table a bit for an easy shot on the 9-ball. And that's a winner, baby.
I immediately go over to shake his hand and told him that that was as much fun as I'd had in a while and he was a great player. He thanked me and the look on his face made my night. The room was quiet as a church. I sat my cue down, walked outside into the chill, and let out a silent breath.
It was one of the absolute most satisfying victories I've had in a long time.
The next round I play my fellow TOI road buddy and he beats me 5-3. Such is life. :grin:
Something about this TOI method just speaks to me. I'm focusing on the CB and attempting to pin it as well, all the while mentally pumping myself up, without thinking about a million different routes, patterns, shots, etc. etc.
Just thought I'd share a recent pool story of mine that I'm going to cherish for a long time.
This past Wednesday night I played in a weekly tournament. A guy that's become a bit of a regular in the room (who's pretty sporty and hadn't played in the league in several years, so he of course got underrated when he returned this season) was there. He's soooooomewhat of a known quantity. I've seen him shoot pretty lights out WHEN HE WANTS TO.....and I've also seen him just goof off and 1-stroke it, not even really getting into his full stance, when he's either distracted or is possibly looking for a game against someone and doesn't want to show his true speed.
Anyway, this particular guy shows up with his brother. His brother is a total unknown to everyone else in the room. I notice he's scouting my opening match pretty intently. I soon found out that he's waiting for the winner.
I play absolutely awful in that first match. I'd shown up just before the tourney started and got virtually no warm-up time. I was assigned to a table that's different than all the rest in the room and I really don't care for it. The cloth is completely different and it's in a cramped corner. I was up against a guy that's actually rated 1 level above me, but he's a glorified banger. If you leave him an open table and let him get in a groove, he CAN run out. BUT, a couple of good safeties and he wilts like week-old lettuce in July. He'll pound the balls everywhere, with little regard to where they're going, if you frustrate him. When that happens, either he slops in a bunch of stuff, of which you could still be in trouble, or you're going to run over him like a freight train.
Well, I was already in a bad mood, been sick as a dog for 2 weeks and I'm in conditions that I just don't like. Mark me down as a whiney ***** for that night, but I never say anything. It's just something that I hold inside. To top it off, this little pool hall has the grill going and I'm sweating in there. I learned a valuable lesson at this particular place about 3 weeks ago. Their equipment is very sensitive to the humidity. The pockets are playing tight. I struggle thru a few racks and I'm tied with the guy 2-2 or so. I keep tuning the TOI to the conditions and begin playing a bit more conservative, while using some safety play. My opponent starts his patented meltdown, as if on cue, and I end up breezing past him.
I'm immediately put up against the unknown player and I can tell he wants to play on the same table that I was just on. He'd been watching me struggle. I told him that I'd much rather play somewhere else, if he wouldn't mind. We pick out a different table and my road buddy whispers to me, "I have a bad feeling about this guy. Be careful." I nod, because I have the same feeling. My opponent asks me what we're racing to, as it's handicapped. We're going to a 6-5 race, with me being rated 2 levels under him. He proceeds to tell me that he hasn't shot since 2003. I look at him and say, "Yeah, that's exactly what every great pool player has ever told me. Let's go."
The second I saw him get into his stance (which actually looked a bit awkward, but I could tell was very comfortable FOR HIM), set his bridge and address the CB for the lag.....I knew I was in trouble. This guy was light years ahead of most in the room. He had a pre-shot routine. His fundamentals were very consistent. His position play was pretty much flawless. And.......I heard the "plink". If you don't know what the "plink" is.....you need to figure it out. He could pin the ball and pin it well. His stroke was very piercing and true. I was immediately overwhelmed and he's on the hill 5-1, before you could've even tied your Velcro shoes.
Now, this unknown player's brother and I have a short history together. I had beaten the brother twice in one night, pretty badly, in our first encounter a while back. He had been jonesin' for revenge and got it against me last weekend. He double-dipped me in the finals of a tournament, when I had just starting being' sick as a dog, and I was fairly miffed about it. He basically toyed with me and I felt somewhat humiliated by the whippin'.
Back to the match. I'm down 5-1. He's on the hill. I know the brother and his crew are in the corner watching and smiling to themselves, because I'm getting sawed off. So, I did something that I think might start to help me in the future. This may not work for everyone. I started to "play scared". It's hard to explain, but I just psyched myself up and purposefully told myself that this guy was a monster player (he's no Chip or Joey, he's just really damn good for around here) and that I've gotta nut up and run like the boogeyman is chasing me. And I did.
I get one open shot and carefully tune my TOI. Nail it. Great position. Next shot. Tune again. Split the wicket. I keep telling myself that this guy is trying to humiliate me. I can almost feel myself shaking, as I'm running on adrenaline now. Five minutes prior, I was trying to remain calm and obviously that wasn't working. I don't think it puts enough competitive pressure on me.
I see an opportunity to pocket a ball and play for a 2-way bank/safe. I get on it perfectly and bank the OB behind a cluster. The CB drifts to the opposite end of the table, eases off the rail and freezes behind the only object ball that's down there. He's hooked. And good. After telling me, "nice shot", he stares at it for a while. I look at it and realize an act of Congress won't get him out of this. He'd need the Special Forces with a helicopter to airlift the CB out and that ain't happenin'. He kicks and misses. I take CB in hand and proceed to pocket the OB, break up the cluster and run out.
A rack or 2 later, I'm still runnin' on fear.....and winning.....and he's starting to backtrack a bit. I'm pocketing what I can. I'm playing great safes when I need to. He's starting to have to kick at stuff and losing his groove.
He leaves me a very, very steep bank. It's one of those where it's a borderline crossover bank into the side.......or I'm going to have pinch it like a mofo AND hit it hard to ever so slightly curve it around an obstructing object ball. Kentucky style. I'm so jacked at this point, I give it maybe a 10 second stare, line up hard to the inside and smack it. It takes every bit of pinch....the OB gives that little intimidating hop in the air.....and whistles in an arc and curves around the obstruction right into the heart of the pocket. I can hear the wind exit my opponent's lungs, as he says, "nice shot", along with a respectful "tap tap". I run out.
It's hill-hill and he's looking pretty nervous. Definitely not as confident as when the match started. I'm wide-eyed like a kid in a candy store. We each pocket a ball or 2. Exchange a few safes. Then.....he misses. BUT, he leaves me a "scratch shot". One of those where you want to pocket a ball in the side, but you just don't have the angle. You just can't backcut it that far. To put it in the corner is certain death, as the side pocket is right there. I hitch up my jeans and tell myself that it's time to pin the paint off of this CB. It's the only thing I can do to NOT scratch. The 8-ball is frozen to the end rail below me and I know if it do this right, I may be able to suck it far enough down to get where I need to be.
I focus with TOI and think about an area the size of the head of a pin on the TOP of my cue tip. I stroke all the way thru and hear......the "plink". The 7 rockets down the table and smacks the back of the corner pocket. The CB takes a glance at the side pocket and then physics takes over. It sucks back down the rail and give me precise position, with an angle and not frozen to the rail, to get on the 8. I hear my opponent say "niiiiiiiiice shot" and the "tap tap". I bear down just as hard on the 8-ball as I've done with every other shot for the past 30 minutes and pocket it.....drifting down the table a bit for an easy shot on the 9-ball. And that's a winner, baby.
I immediately go over to shake his hand and told him that that was as much fun as I'd had in a while and he was a great player. He thanked me and the look on his face made my night. The room was quiet as a church. I sat my cue down, walked outside into the chill, and let out a silent breath.
It was one of the absolute most satisfying victories I've had in a long time.
The next round I play my fellow TOI road buddy and he beats me 5-3. Such is life. :grin:
Something about this TOI method just speaks to me. I'm focusing on the CB and attempting to pin it as well, all the while mentally pumping myself up, without thinking about a million different routes, patterns, shots, etc. etc.
Just thought I'd share a recent pool story of mine that I'm going to cherish for a long time.
Last edited:
.....all the credit goes to the Game....'The Game is the Teacher'
