Pool & Passion

Ghosst

Ghosst

Broom Handle Mafia
Silver Member
Played one of the old-timers last night. A nice man, rather frail looking and well-traveled in his younger years. I was just going to run 10 racks of Fargo to see how my score is doing and when I looked up he was at the end of the table with a sly grin.

Now I know John doesn't have cash to spare so I wouldn't offer to gamble with him even if I did. That and anyone who underestimates their opponents is usually the one on the losing end. He's often in the top 3 of our monthly tournaments, a dead shot and good position player.

We set up a game and he ran the first three on me. All I did wrong is break dry once. John seemed to be in good spirits, telling stories the whole time, laughing and enjoying himself. In the fourth rack he broke dry and he seemed to be ok with it. I was still cold and every time I got to the table I had a kick or jump to deal with. Finally, I got some traction and started to run a few here and there.

Around the 7th rack he started to get really mad and miss some easy shots that normally wouldn't pose a problem. From there, it went from bad to worse; swearing, stomping, self-loathing. It was kind of odd to see such an extreme change in what is normally a happy-go-lucky man to behaviour that's more like a teenager or a guy trying to impress a date and losing.

I wasn't really in the mood to play, but I kept going. I was just there for practice but seeing some of the guys hanging around, waiting for a friend to match up with I just didn't have the heart to say no. Finally, I was up 6-3 and ready to call it a night. I let him know, and despite his uneven temper and shot making he eeked out one more to make it 6-4.

John looked a little surprised as I packed up my cues, but I reminded him I had an appointment early the next day and had to get home to sleep. He was still giving out the excuses and reasoning why he hadn't beaten me flat. I paid the bill, and was finishing my beer when I spotted him plopped down in front of one of the TVs. He saw me and instantly started back in with the stories. He was happy, grinning, and generally in a good mood.

It's odd to see such a flip in personality. There was no money on the line, only pride, and yet the moment he wasn't winning a big green monster popped it's head up. The moment the match was over, he was happy again, all traces of nearly breaking his cue over the table had vanished.

What is it about pool that brings out such determination, passion, and emotion? I've had my ups and downs, but this was almost bipolar.
 
competitors compete

Ghosst said:
Played one of the old-timers last night. A nice man, rather frail looking and well-traveled in his younger years. I was just going to run 10 racks of Fargo to see how my score is doing and when I looked up he was at the end of the table with a sly grin.

Now I know John doesn't have cash to spare so I wouldn't offer to gamble with him even if I did. That and anyone who underestimates their opponents is usually the one on the losing end. He's often in the top 3 of our monthly tournaments, a dead shot and good position player.

We set up a game and he ran the first three on me. All I did wrong is break dry once. John seemed to be in good spirits, telling stories the whole time, laughing and enjoying himself. In the fourth rack he broke dry and he seemed to be ok with it. I was still cold and every time I got to the table I had a kick or jump to deal with. Finally, I got some traction and started to run a few here and there.

Around the 7th rack he started to get really mad and miss some easy shots that normally wouldn't pose a problem. From there, it went from bad to worse; swearing, stomping, self-loathing. It was kind of odd to see such an extreme change in what is normally a happy-go-lucky man to behaviour that's more like a teenager or a guy trying to impress a date and losing.

I wasn't really in the mood to play, but I kept going. I was just there for practice but seeing some of the guys hanging around, waiting for a friend to match up with I just didn't have the heart to say no. Finally, I was up 6-3 and ready to call it a night. I let him know, and despite his uneven temper and shot making he eeked out one more to make it 6-4.

John looked a little surprised as I packed up my cues, but I reminded him I had an appointment early the next day and had to get home to sleep. He was still giving out the excuses and reasoning why he hadn't beaten me flat. I paid the bill, and was finishing my beer when I spotted him plopped down in front of one of the TVs. He saw me and instantly started back in with the stories. He was happy, grinning, and generally in a good mood.

It's odd to see such a flip in personality. There was no money on the line, only pride, and yet the moment he wasn't winning a big green monster popped it's head up. The moment the match was over, he was happy again, all traces of nearly breaking his cue over the table had vanished.

What is it about pool that brings out such determination, passion, and emotion? I've had my ups and downs, but this was almost bipolar.
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Seems most obvious, competitors compete. Doesn't matter if it is tic-tac-toe or a pool game for nothing but pride, they are 100% into it. My older brother was like that and there is a bit of that in me. If it is important to the other person to win then it is important to me that they not win.

Hu
 
I don't know the guy at all so i won't comment on his mental state but I have seen people react in similar ways. I think sometimes when a good players game starts to decline it can be frustrating and bring out a persons bad side.
I don't think its a personal attack and I think some people who do this may not even realize the extent of their actions. But there is usually some underlying mental stress involved.
 
Great story. I have found myself doing the exact same thing that John has done before, both when I played professional music as well as at pool. I think it really has to do with personal disappointment more than anything. I recently started playing again and I have nights where I can't make 2 balls in a row and then I have nights where I can break and run several racks and not miss a damn thing. As in music and most other professions where you are solely responsible for your mistakes and perfection, it is a mental game.

I was in Houston a month ago on vacation and beat a road player playing 1-pocket and I couldn't miss. The following week when I got home, I played a player at leagues that I should have had no problem beating even if I was off. He smoked me in the league match.

On another side note, I played lead trumpet for Aretha Franklin at the Chicago Theater for the Millennium New Years Eve show. The first 3/4's of the show was absolutely flawless but something happened the last set to me. I started taking it for granted as I was playing flawlessly and all of the sudden mistakes started to happen that I hadn't made in years. Missing notes and low or high on my pitch. The last song we did was Respect and I 100% just absolutely nailed the crap out of it. I was able to mentally pull myself back together and go for it.
 
I think he sharked himself when he realized I wasn't going to just lay down. Even though John sees me almost everyday I think he expected to run away with the match, especially after the first 3.

It almost reminded me of a certain, unnamed, pro who chastises themselves when they miss. Pride itself can be a heck of a motivator when it's on display.
 
Age

You said he was an old timer. How old? Years do funny things to people. I know of an older woman who was absolutely normal about everything, except water. She was convinced she had to boil her tap water to get the radiation out of it. No matter how hard I tried I could never change her thinking. I let it go, after all, she wasn't going to get any younger.
 
I believe he is in his late 60's to early 70's. He's quite normal, just something about pool that brings out the worst sometimes. He's not the only mild-mannered person I've seen to blow a gasket over losing. Seems pool has the ability to really fuel emotions.
 
New York Blackie wasn't quite as bad but when I got good enough to beat him at one pocket in his later years, he refused to play me any more.

Until that time, I had been his regular punching bag for cheap money. It is what it is. Yeah, I think it is pride that makes people especially older people who at one time were at the top of our sport. I've seen similar behavior in other older and former top players. It is difficult to admit that age has robbed you of your ability to compete at the high level you once knew. I don't have that problem, since I have never known that top level of speed that Blackie played in his prime. :smile:
 
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