Lissa said:
The title speaks for itself. I was just wondering what your experience was like the first time you played pool.
I played pool for the first time last night, sucked terribly, and left Slick Willie's (the poolhall) on the verge of tears at how embarassing my game was. My family was with me, and they were more interested in just casual play, while I was busy trying to actually learn the game and remember what I had read about the proper techniques to employ in a game of 8-ball. I'm eager to go back and improve, though.
By all means get back to the poolhall, BUT, without your family or a group of friends. You need to find an acquaintance that knows a bit about the game to at least show you the basic fundamentals of stance, stroke, grip, bridge, etc. If you know of nobody who can give you pointers, go to your local library or bookstore and check-out/buy an instructional book that will show you the basics, Then go to the poolhall by yourself and work, work, work on the fundamentals. You will be suprised how fast you improve, especially if you are young, limber, with good eyesight. My wife and I enjoyed reading Ewa Mataya Laurance's book, "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Pool & Billiards". Good luck and hang in there!!!
Edit: I forgot to mention my first game of pool. It is the first week in June, 1966. I just got out of the 7th grade. I am one week from turning 13 years old. My dad and I were travelling from Texas to Rochester, Pennsylvania by car to visit his relatives. My dad had an uncle, Carl, who he always told me about his prowess at the pool table. On the way up to PA, we stopped at several towns/cities to enter poolhalls so my dad could brush up on his game so his Uncle Carl wouldn't embarrass the crap out of him at the table. The only town I can remember specifically was Springfield, Ohio. I remember going into one place that looked like something straight out of the movie "The Hustler". It was dark, musty smelling, with all the tables lined out in a perfect row all the way down to the end of the building, which was long and narrow. It wasn't a bar. It wasn't a dancehall. It wasn't a stage for loud music. It was PURE poolhall, just the way it oughta be. I can still see it in my mind.
I fell in love with pool the first time I played on that trip. When we got to the neighborhood tavern later on in PA, I met Uncle Carl and even got to shoot a little pool with him. I can still hear him tellin' me not to shoot so hard, that I would make more balls if I shot softer. My parents had a picture of me that was taken in that tavern bending over a shot w/stick-in-hand, and another with Uncle Carl in it. I've looked for them but can't locate them. I hope they turn up someday.
Maniac