Okay, I'll try to post something helpful, as opposed to the two previous posts..
My story. His name was Sergeant Major Seto. He was the first good player I ever played, and we were stationed over in South Korea together for a year. He pounded on me mercilessly for that entire year. I easily beat the other soldiers, but won fewer than three games off the Sergeant Major in that year.
I told him right before I left for Fort Lewis, Washingtion: "SGM, the next time I see you, I'm going to be good enough to beat you. He laughed at me.
That laugh and the fact that I had never been able to get through him to win tournaments in Korea drove me to practice like a man possessed. I didn't really think I'd ever see him again, but I practiced hard all the same.
When I practiced, I remembered back when all the Korean pros came to play with the soldiers. SGM came in second ahead of all the Koreans, and a new guy in town won. I overslept. Oversleeping that day brings back painful memories. I wanted to PROVE myself to the Koreans and the SGM Seto.
So when I went to Fort Lewis, as I practiced, I would imagine that I was back at the tournament I overslept for, and that I was playing while all the Korean pros watched. It tended to make me try harder, practice with more focus.
SGM Seto changed duty stations from Koread to Fort Lewis. In fact, he became my company's Sergeant Major. We both played in the Fort Lewis 8 ball Championship. He got knocked into the loser's bracket, while I walked all over everybody to the finals. SGM met me in the finals.
He beat me the first set of double elimination. His game was the same as I always remembered. Incredibly steady, consistent. Look at the table and see if there was a runout. If there was, he was out.
We start the second set, race to 5. He has me down 4-3, and he is running out for the win. Inexplicably, he jaws a ball.
I step up to the table, and think to myself: "There are times a player has to reach deep within himself. You've been nervous playing these two sets because he is SGM Seto. He is beatable. He was supposed to be out, but he missed. He's scared of you, or he wouldn't have missed that ball. He's nervous too. He left you an easy out. You've been practicing the last two years of your life for moments like this. Make it count. Put this old dog out of his misery."
I reached deep down for that extreme focus I had been working on in practice, and I ran out that rack. I broke a ball in on the next break, and I ran that rack out too. I VICIOUSLY put down any thoughts of missing that tried to come to the surface of my mind.
That's my story. When practicing and playing, I want to win SO BADLY that it allows me to wad up all those little negative thoughts and bury them somewhere where my mind can't get at them.
This may not help, as my focus and ability to ignore negative thoughts were built in practice, mostly. But do your best to put those thoughts out of your mind. You have to CONVINCE yourself on some primal level that you are going to make THIS shot, right NOW.
If you win, that's great! If you don't, try practicing with more drive. Find a mental situation that really drives you, such as a memory of playing in a pro event, with a number of people watching, or gambling, with people watching. Convince yourself as you are practicing that 20, 30, 100 people are watching you, and are judging each shot of yours.
Lackadaisical practice is the enemy of every player. Find a way to focus harder than you've ever focused before. If you're lucky, that'll help drop you in dead stroke.
In my opinion, the ability to focus all the time is what separates good players from great players. Good players have the stroke, they just don't have the drive, focus, the "will to win" at all costs.
Russ
