If you are even remotely as crazy about the game of pool as I am then you can probably relate to the emotional roller coaster of a ride this game can take you on. There are times when everything in this world of ours can be going wrong. You read the papers, watch the news, or read NPR if you are really a glutton for punishment, and you discover that there are wars breaking out in much of the world. There are deadly viruses on the prowl seeking to destroy us all. Closer to home, there are family members struggling with the cares of this world. All of these things are weighing on you as you head out for work in the morning only to discover that not only do you have a flat tire but you also just stepped in a present that was left behind by your neighbor’s wonderful little yappy mongrel.
But yet none of these things can slow you down because you are hitting the balls so damn good! They are just flying into the pockets right now and all you want to do is get back on the table. That’s really your only goal right now. How can you get back to the table? You just want to experience the beautiful simplicity of the game. Watching the balls fly into the pockets on command while dictating to the cue ball exactly where it is to land. You are playing so good at the moment that nothing in life can slow you down and you actually start feeling bad that nothing can make you feel bad.
Then something happens. The pool gods look down on you, all three of them, and shake their collective heads. They are saddened that you are so disconnected from the world around you. How can this guy be so frustratingly cheerful with all the chaos that’s going on around him? So the god in charge of cue ball control thinks it would be a good idea to throw you off just a bit, while the ball pocketing god thinks it would be better if you just started rattling a few timely balls. Of course, the equipment god thinks turning up the humidity, dirtying up the balls, and taking a chunk out of your favorite tip would be best. Unfortunately for you, the pool gods believe in cooperation and so it is with this spirit in mind, that they decide to all chip in.
Next thing you know – you can’t make a ball! The balls stop spreading on the break, they continuously rattle in the pocket, and you could have only two balls left on a 5,000 squared inch surface and you somehow manage to land on the exact spot on the table where you don’t have a shot. How is that even possible?
Life now sucks. Flipping on the light switch only to discover that the bulb burned out can set you off on a dizzying diatribe about how the light bulb manufacturers are conspiring to screw the little guy and you’re sick and tired of it and you’re not going to take it anymore! The wife comes home and tells you she got a promotion at work, your son hit the winning home run in the baseball game, and your daughter found out she got selected for the prime role in the upcoming play.
You really have to summon the last remaining vestige of goodness that you have left in your cold soul just to congratulate them all and tell them how proud they make you but in the deep, dark recesses of your mind you are thinking -- how do any of these things help me run out? You’re thinking maybe it’s time to give up the game. You just can’t let it continue to affect your life like this anymore.
And then she says it. “With this promotion maybe it’s time you finally got that new table you’ve been talking about for years.” Wow. That’s it. All you need is to get a real table and you’re game will take right off again. That’s what’s been slowing you down this whole time. You can see the balls going in now. Life is good again.
You ask your son to tell you about the winning home run and he hesitates because he has to first tell you about the garage window that he broke. Oh, but who cares about that it’s just a window and it can be replaced you say.
This game can drive you crazy.
But yet none of these things can slow you down because you are hitting the balls so damn good! They are just flying into the pockets right now and all you want to do is get back on the table. That’s really your only goal right now. How can you get back to the table? You just want to experience the beautiful simplicity of the game. Watching the balls fly into the pockets on command while dictating to the cue ball exactly where it is to land. You are playing so good at the moment that nothing in life can slow you down and you actually start feeling bad that nothing can make you feel bad.
Then something happens. The pool gods look down on you, all three of them, and shake their collective heads. They are saddened that you are so disconnected from the world around you. How can this guy be so frustratingly cheerful with all the chaos that’s going on around him? So the god in charge of cue ball control thinks it would be a good idea to throw you off just a bit, while the ball pocketing god thinks it would be better if you just started rattling a few timely balls. Of course, the equipment god thinks turning up the humidity, dirtying up the balls, and taking a chunk out of your favorite tip would be best. Unfortunately for you, the pool gods believe in cooperation and so it is with this spirit in mind, that they decide to all chip in.
Next thing you know – you can’t make a ball! The balls stop spreading on the break, they continuously rattle in the pocket, and you could have only two balls left on a 5,000 squared inch surface and you somehow manage to land on the exact spot on the table where you don’t have a shot. How is that even possible?
Life now sucks. Flipping on the light switch only to discover that the bulb burned out can set you off on a dizzying diatribe about how the light bulb manufacturers are conspiring to screw the little guy and you’re sick and tired of it and you’re not going to take it anymore! The wife comes home and tells you she got a promotion at work, your son hit the winning home run in the baseball game, and your daughter found out she got selected for the prime role in the upcoming play.
You really have to summon the last remaining vestige of goodness that you have left in your cold soul just to congratulate them all and tell them how proud they make you but in the deep, dark recesses of your mind you are thinking -- how do any of these things help me run out? You’re thinking maybe it’s time to give up the game. You just can’t let it continue to affect your life like this anymore.
And then she says it. “With this promotion maybe it’s time you finally got that new table you’ve been talking about for years.” Wow. That’s it. All you need is to get a real table and you’re game will take right off again. That’s what’s been slowing you down this whole time. You can see the balls going in now. Life is good again.
You ask your son to tell you about the winning home run and he hesitates because he has to first tell you about the garage window that he broke. Oh, but who cares about that it’s just a window and it can be replaced you say.
This game can drive you crazy.
Last edited:
:shocked2::thud:
