In Ireland, St. Patrick’s Day is considered a religious holiday, much like Christmas or Easter. Here in the United States, though, it is a day of celebration for anybody who wants to be Irish. Festivities abound, especially in New York City where the annual parade has attracted more than a million spectators since 1762. :grin-square:
One St. Patrick's Day pool triumph happened to fall on St. Patrick’s Day at the Clyde Childress Memorial 9-ball tournament in Richmond, Kentucky. It took place at The Maverick Club. The Irish American knew he’d need a wee bit of luck as he gazed out at the star-studded field consisting of phenoms Buddy Hall, Ronnie Allen, Earl Strickland, Allen Hopkins, Louie Roberts, and Terry Bell. He had stared at these same faces in many a final match, giving it his all, but often ended up the bridesmaid, sitting on the bench stewing about what might have been. :frown:
In the early rounds, he scored a few victories, but he thought that his good fortune had run out when he found myself locking eyeballs with Earl Strickland on the other side of the table once more. The Pearl had been a dominating force on the tournament trail, and he was the real deal. The best strategy to beating Earl was to keep him in the chair, and on this fine St. Paddy’s Day, he managed to knock The Pearl in the tub in resounding fashion, 11 to 2. His momentum carried him to the finals, undefeated in this double-elimination event. Oh, his Irish eyes were smiling as he awaited his next victim.
The true mark of a champion is how they deal with mistakes, and Earl never looked back as he steamrolled his way through the B side of the chart, relegating Terry Bell to a third-place finish. When they announced their names for the finals, they were greeted by a mob of screaming fans. Adjacent to their table, a couple of energetic lovelies began to clog to the Irish jigs emanating from the jukebox, their feet barely touching the floor. Elsewhere, patrons were buzzing around like busy bees, and several formed makeshift a capella groups, singing traditional Celtic ballads like “Oh, Danny Boy.” It was getting quite difficult for the players in the final round to focus on the game at hand.
Even though sitting in the catbird’s seat, he knew he had to make the most out of this opportunity to snatch the coveted title and the pot of gold. Earl was raring to go, and The Pearl demolished him, 11 to 3, which avenged the earlier 11-to-2 thrashing The Pearl had received. That forced a final race to 11. :embarrassed2:
After a brief intermission, they returned to the table. He was on his belly and needed to get rid of the gremlins inside head. This time determined, he and The Pearl seesawed back and forth, fighting tooth and nail. With the score tied at 9, he reached inside himself and gave it his all, running out the final two racks. It was fitting that on this fine St. Patrick’s Day, it was the Irish American named McCready who snatched the almighty win on an emerald field of green.
That's my Irish pool tale. Happy St. Patrick's Day to all! :grin-square:
One St. Patrick's Day pool triumph happened to fall on St. Patrick’s Day at the Clyde Childress Memorial 9-ball tournament in Richmond, Kentucky. It took place at The Maverick Club. The Irish American knew he’d need a wee bit of luck as he gazed out at the star-studded field consisting of phenoms Buddy Hall, Ronnie Allen, Earl Strickland, Allen Hopkins, Louie Roberts, and Terry Bell. He had stared at these same faces in many a final match, giving it his all, but often ended up the bridesmaid, sitting on the bench stewing about what might have been. :frown:
In the early rounds, he scored a few victories, but he thought that his good fortune had run out when he found myself locking eyeballs with Earl Strickland on the other side of the table once more. The Pearl had been a dominating force on the tournament trail, and he was the real deal. The best strategy to beating Earl was to keep him in the chair, and on this fine St. Paddy’s Day, he managed to knock The Pearl in the tub in resounding fashion, 11 to 2. His momentum carried him to the finals, undefeated in this double-elimination event. Oh, his Irish eyes were smiling as he awaited his next victim.
The true mark of a champion is how they deal with mistakes, and Earl never looked back as he steamrolled his way through the B side of the chart, relegating Terry Bell to a third-place finish. When they announced their names for the finals, they were greeted by a mob of screaming fans. Adjacent to their table, a couple of energetic lovelies began to clog to the Irish jigs emanating from the jukebox, their feet barely touching the floor. Elsewhere, patrons were buzzing around like busy bees, and several formed makeshift a capella groups, singing traditional Celtic ballads like “Oh, Danny Boy.” It was getting quite difficult for the players in the final round to focus on the game at hand.
Even though sitting in the catbird’s seat, he knew he had to make the most out of this opportunity to snatch the coveted title and the pot of gold. Earl was raring to go, and The Pearl demolished him, 11 to 3, which avenged the earlier 11-to-2 thrashing The Pearl had received. That forced a final race to 11. :embarrassed2:
After a brief intermission, they returned to the table. He was on his belly and needed to get rid of the gremlins inside head. This time determined, he and The Pearl seesawed back and forth, fighting tooth and nail. With the score tied at 9, he reached inside himself and gave it his all, running out the final two racks. It was fitting that on this fine St. Patrick’s Day, it was the Irish American named McCready who snatched the almighty win on an emerald field of green.
That's my Irish pool tale. Happy St. Patrick's Day to all! :grin-square:
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