It seems that there aren't as many road players these days as there were in yesteryear and at my poolroom, Buffalo Billiards in Metairie, LA we always like to show the road players some action. We might ask for weight if we know the game is out of line and then again, we might just belly-up-to-the-table.
Our pool room owner is different than a lot of pool room owners and he is intent on making sure that his regular customers see some high level play.
I had just finished a one hour practice session by myself and had gotten into stroke and while I was talking to an old friend, the bartender walked up and said there's a player who wants to play some one pocket. Before I had a chance to size him up from a distance, he was right there in front of me. I at least like to look a road player over and get my thoughts organized before entering into negotiation. Anyway, the guy looked familiar but I couldn't remember anything special about him. He appeared to be just one of the many faces that I see at pool tournaments around the country. I introduced myself, waiting for him to say his name and he gave me a first name only and because I have a lot of respect for pool players who travel the road trying to make a dollar, I didn't push for much more information than that.
Additional information afterall, would eventually start to flow like a summer stream, slow and steady. An acquaintance, eager to be the one who shared new information about this stranger would saunter up and whisper, "There a vehicle in the parking lot with Texas license plates". A knowing, appreciative nod would be all that was returned and all that was expected for the new information. It's kind of like a game that we play. The information that you obtain from the road player is compared to what you learn from others in your pool room. Sometimes the player might say he is from "North Carolina". When the pool room detectives spot Texas license plates, that information is promptly bandied about. This contradictory information can tell you something about the opponent's stealth or not. The subtle inquiries about the road player's experience (tournaments, where you or others might have seen him & other things) are almost always met with polite, well chosen answers that could be the truth, a part-truth or just a bald-faced lie. All of these things add to the overall experience and have the makings for a story to be told over and over as the years pass.
This one particular story began two days ago. The player arrived with friend in tow and bought and drank a couple of beers and immediately went to the bartender to see if there was some action available. It was that easy. For the road player it is remarkably like fishing. Sometimes there may be no fish around, while other times there might be a Blue Fin Tuna waiting to strut their stuff or maybe they will run into a hammer-head shark or worse, The Great White. All in all, the road player most always, has already been seasoned to quickly size up the players in a room either by advanced information or by assimilating the information gathered in the pool room.
In this case, he must have heard about JoeyA, the tournament chump who can't beat "nobody". I asked what game did he like to play and of course he knew the right answer, "one pocket". I asked what he liked to play for and he said $100 a game. I don't mind playing for that or for more or less. Generally, I enjoy playing for 30-50 a game with strangers. It's not about how much money I can make playing pool. A long time ago, I learned that I needed to have a steady job to make steady money and that pool would not be able to provide me with the income that I needed to raise a family and take care of my vices. Hunting, fishing, playing pool and raising a family can be quite expensive, and that doesn't include putting money aside for a rainy day or your retirement days.
So, I told the road player that he was a little out of my league but that we would see about getting him some hundred dollar action. I was thinking that we might put Eddie Brown or one of our straighter shooters on him to test his mettle. I had afterall just come from a solid weekend of pool debauchery in Mobile, Al and I was recovering quite slowly. I don't spring back as I once did. This was on Monday and I had slept in late and even took a late evening 2 hour nap just before coming to the pool hall and felt pretty good. I had even made some sales call that day but still wan't interested in giving a stranger a few hundred dollars of my hard-earned money without at least knowing if I had a chance.
So after declining, naturally the owner and one of his big sweaters comes over to me and begins to scold me, "Why don't you play the guy?" I retort, "Why don't you stake the GD came?" and they immediately peel off hundreds of dollars for me to play with. I seldom accept stake money but I could see that these two wanted me to play badly and it had been a while since a road player had been in town and I actually understand the owner's logic about engaging road players at Buffalo Billiards.
We flip for the break and I win the flip and make a mediocre break and the road player gets out of the break and gets ahead right off the bat and wins the first game. I can tell that I move a little better than the road player but that he is a really straight shooter. It's obvious to me that this isn't his first rodeo despite his stories of how he is a working man, (FEMA worker is an overused occupation for road players
) Before I can get my bearings, he already has me stuck 3 games and I am getting pissed with myself because I know I can play better. I also have the pool room's money at stake and I want to give them my best effort and it hasn't come. At the moment, I decided to do whatever it took (except for cheating or sharking) to win this next game. I started doing some of my deep breathing exercising, hoping to relax and center myself all the while believing that the Theta Wave music sounds that I have been listening to along with the meditation can calm my anxious mind and it does, almost immediately. Now I find myself, staying down on the shot, living in the moment, shooting in the moment, content with that one moment in time. I make difficult shots, I make excellent safeties and I see my opponent weaken for just a moment. This sometimes happens when your opponent shows you something that he hasn't already shown you and it takes a lot of steel to fade those unwanted surprises.
This new found confidence feeds on itself and I win another game and we see-saw back and for the for a few hours. I feel myself tiring and order fresh coffee and it renews me for another hour or so and we continue to battle. I think that the road player might have other thoughts in mind, like maybe losing one game or two to me and then quiting hoping to get a better game. That thought is quickly eradicated from my mind as it is the ego and the ego is the demise of anything that I might be building on. Besides, I know that most road players can ill afford and don't have the time to lay down a lemon and pick up the cash on another trip. This type of thinking simply robs one of the Power of Now. I know that if I am to win, I must stay in the moment and I order more coffee. I feel the dredge of tiredness pulling at my face, the sweet aching of tired muscles, having given their best effort. By this time, we had been playing for 7 hours. This is far past my limit and I have no more energy left to excel with. I am one game up and I can see my opponent is tired and comment on that. He acknowledges that he is tired too, so I make one last effort to win this last game. He knows that I have to go to work and it is very late even for a road player, let alone a working-man wannabee poolplayer. I get to 7 and he needs 4 balls. Now, he starts putting me in difficult situations where I could lose the game if I miss. He knows I am tired and is counting on me to miss one of those incredible shots I have been making all night. Finally, I can take it no more and a shot comes up that could win the game for me and I shoot it, missing the pocket by a half diamond and he makes three balls. The next ball takes 15 minutes to be made but the road player comes through. We break even and I immediately shake his hand, knowing that he wishes he had kept the heat on me from the beginning. I'm so tired now that I may not be able to sleep and I know I have to sleep in order to work the next day even if it is for but a couple of hours.
The next day is kind of a fog, tired and kind of irritable because of the lack of sleep but I put on my best face and muddle through the day, knowing that on Tuesday night, the big, free, handicapped, weekely, 9 ball tournament at Buffalo Billiards will be going on as scheduled. I also wonder if the road hog will still be in town. After taking a nap, before the Tuesday night tournament, I arrive at the pool room to see the road player starting to play one of the better players in the room. And so, it starts all over again....................
Our pool room owner is different than a lot of pool room owners and he is intent on making sure that his regular customers see some high level play.
I had just finished a one hour practice session by myself and had gotten into stroke and while I was talking to an old friend, the bartender walked up and said there's a player who wants to play some one pocket. Before I had a chance to size him up from a distance, he was right there in front of me. I at least like to look a road player over and get my thoughts organized before entering into negotiation. Anyway, the guy looked familiar but I couldn't remember anything special about him. He appeared to be just one of the many faces that I see at pool tournaments around the country. I introduced myself, waiting for him to say his name and he gave me a first name only and because I have a lot of respect for pool players who travel the road trying to make a dollar, I didn't push for much more information than that.
Additional information afterall, would eventually start to flow like a summer stream, slow and steady. An acquaintance, eager to be the one who shared new information about this stranger would saunter up and whisper, "There a vehicle in the parking lot with Texas license plates". A knowing, appreciative nod would be all that was returned and all that was expected for the new information. It's kind of like a game that we play. The information that you obtain from the road player is compared to what you learn from others in your pool room. Sometimes the player might say he is from "North Carolina". When the pool room detectives spot Texas license plates, that information is promptly bandied about. This contradictory information can tell you something about the opponent's stealth or not. The subtle inquiries about the road player's experience (tournaments, where you or others might have seen him & other things) are almost always met with polite, well chosen answers that could be the truth, a part-truth or just a bald-faced lie. All of these things add to the overall experience and have the makings for a story to be told over and over as the years pass.
This one particular story began two days ago. The player arrived with friend in tow and bought and drank a couple of beers and immediately went to the bartender to see if there was some action available. It was that easy. For the road player it is remarkably like fishing. Sometimes there may be no fish around, while other times there might be a Blue Fin Tuna waiting to strut their stuff or maybe they will run into a hammer-head shark or worse, The Great White. All in all, the road player most always, has already been seasoned to quickly size up the players in a room either by advanced information or by assimilating the information gathered in the pool room.
In this case, he must have heard about JoeyA, the tournament chump who can't beat "nobody". I asked what game did he like to play and of course he knew the right answer, "one pocket". I asked what he liked to play for and he said $100 a game. I don't mind playing for that or for more or less. Generally, I enjoy playing for 30-50 a game with strangers. It's not about how much money I can make playing pool. A long time ago, I learned that I needed to have a steady job to make steady money and that pool would not be able to provide me with the income that I needed to raise a family and take care of my vices. Hunting, fishing, playing pool and raising a family can be quite expensive, and that doesn't include putting money aside for a rainy day or your retirement days.
So, I told the road player that he was a little out of my league but that we would see about getting him some hundred dollar action. I was thinking that we might put Eddie Brown or one of our straighter shooters on him to test his mettle. I had afterall just come from a solid weekend of pool debauchery in Mobile, Al and I was recovering quite slowly. I don't spring back as I once did. This was on Monday and I had slept in late and even took a late evening 2 hour nap just before coming to the pool hall and felt pretty good. I had even made some sales call that day but still wan't interested in giving a stranger a few hundred dollars of my hard-earned money without at least knowing if I had a chance.
So after declining, naturally the owner and one of his big sweaters comes over to me and begins to scold me, "Why don't you play the guy?" I retort, "Why don't you stake the GD came?" and they immediately peel off hundreds of dollars for me to play with. I seldom accept stake money but I could see that these two wanted me to play badly and it had been a while since a road player had been in town and I actually understand the owner's logic about engaging road players at Buffalo Billiards.
We flip for the break and I win the flip and make a mediocre break and the road player gets out of the break and gets ahead right off the bat and wins the first game. I can tell that I move a little better than the road player but that he is a really straight shooter. It's obvious to me that this isn't his first rodeo despite his stories of how he is a working man, (FEMA worker is an overused occupation for road players
) Before I can get my bearings, he already has me stuck 3 games and I am getting pissed with myself because I know I can play better. I also have the pool room's money at stake and I want to give them my best effort and it hasn't come. At the moment, I decided to do whatever it took (except for cheating or sharking) to win this next game. I started doing some of my deep breathing exercising, hoping to relax and center myself all the while believing that the Theta Wave music sounds that I have been listening to along with the meditation can calm my anxious mind and it does, almost immediately. Now I find myself, staying down on the shot, living in the moment, shooting in the moment, content with that one moment in time. I make difficult shots, I make excellent safeties and I see my opponent weaken for just a moment. This sometimes happens when your opponent shows you something that he hasn't already shown you and it takes a lot of steel to fade those unwanted surprises. This new found confidence feeds on itself and I win another game and we see-saw back and for the for a few hours. I feel myself tiring and order fresh coffee and it renews me for another hour or so and we continue to battle. I think that the road player might have other thoughts in mind, like maybe losing one game or two to me and then quiting hoping to get a better game. That thought is quickly eradicated from my mind as it is the ego and the ego is the demise of anything that I might be building on. Besides, I know that most road players can ill afford and don't have the time to lay down a lemon and pick up the cash on another trip. This type of thinking simply robs one of the Power of Now. I know that if I am to win, I must stay in the moment and I order more coffee. I feel the dredge of tiredness pulling at my face, the sweet aching of tired muscles, having given their best effort. By this time, we had been playing for 7 hours. This is far past my limit and I have no more energy left to excel with. I am one game up and I can see my opponent is tired and comment on that. He acknowledges that he is tired too, so I make one last effort to win this last game. He knows that I have to go to work and it is very late even for a road player, let alone a working-man wannabee poolplayer. I get to 7 and he needs 4 balls. Now, he starts putting me in difficult situations where I could lose the game if I miss. He knows I am tired and is counting on me to miss one of those incredible shots I have been making all night. Finally, I can take it no more and a shot comes up that could win the game for me and I shoot it, missing the pocket by a half diamond and he makes three balls. The next ball takes 15 minutes to be made but the road player comes through. We break even and I immediately shake his hand, knowing that he wishes he had kept the heat on me from the beginning. I'm so tired now that I may not be able to sleep and I know I have to sleep in order to work the next day even if it is for but a couple of hours.
The next day is kind of a fog, tired and kind of irritable because of the lack of sleep but I put on my best face and muddle through the day, knowing that on Tuesday night, the big, free, handicapped, weekely, 9 ball tournament at Buffalo Billiards will be going on as scheduled. I also wonder if the road hog will still be in town. After taking a nap, before the Tuesday night tournament, I arrive at the pool room to see the road player starting to play one of the better players in the room. And so, it starts all over again....................
