A Hole-in-one, Playing Alone

On September 10, 2018, in Uncategorized, by Kevin Sysyn

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pooling

 

I hesitate to say it, but I am a great pool shooter most of the time. (As opposed to being a great pool player*). But I feel like a guy who hits a hole-in-one playing alone. I’m just a casual in-the-bar  have-a-few-drinks relaxed kind of pool player. I often play others who don’t have a chance so I purposely make things difficult for myself. And more often than not I am amazed at the results. This is not braggadocio or ego. I just want to tell somebody!!, cuz these performances go largely unnoticed by anyone but me and few random others. They are sometimes quite impressive if not uncanny. Like last night 3:00 AM . 

I was playing a young lady a game of 8-Ball (One must sink all 7 of their high or low balls and then the 8-Ball) . She was a typical less-than-mediocre player. So I decided to bank (double) every shot. That’s tough. So here I am drunker than I care to admit and I sank all 7 balls in a row, every one a bank-shot. I missed the 8-Ball but banked that too a couple of turns later. This kind of thing has happened countless times. It never occurred to me to write about it. But there’s no video.

A few weeks ago a guy marched into the bar I was at and announced for all to hear, “I’m from Brooklyn New York! and I wanna play pool!” Welcome. Stunned, everybody fell silent for a moment not knowing exactly what to make of him or what he meant. It was clear he wanted to play pool but what that had to do with being from Brooklyn NY mystified us all and still does me. The Hustler starring Paul Neuman and Jackie Gleason was shot in Brooklyn but I doubt there was any connection there.

I happened to be playing with my girlfriend. He came right over and challenged me to game.

I said “You can play the winner like everybody else”.

“Grumble..grumble.”

I defeated my girlfriend forthwith. Then he wanted to gamble.

I said “I never gamble. Ever.”

“Oh com’on play me for a drink at least.”

“I never gamble. Ever. If you need a drink I’ll buy you one.” says I.

“Grumble..grumble…”.

Winner breaks. I sank two spots on the break and ran the entire table + 8-Ball. Leaving the guy from Brooklyn without a single shot. The thing is I made probably three astounding shots in the process because I’m a lousy pool player but a good shooter. He was noticeably perturbed. Nobody ever watches pool games in this place. I got a round of applause.

“One more!”…loudly.

“Well she gets to play the winner. Next game maybe.”

“Grumble grumble…”

I purposely defeated my girlfriend again. For the 2nd act I broke and ran five balls first turn. Then came his first shot of the night. He flubbed an easy chance into the side and I ran out the game. He had exactly one shot over two games. Hahahaha! Everybody in that bar has treated me like a hero since.

I bought him a drink! To his credit, and perhaps a little bit to mine, just as he had come bulling into the bar he stopped everything by pronouncing with equal bombast that “This man is a fucking fantastic pool player. He kicked my ass.”, and humbly shook my hand.

Brooklyn indeed!

I am a professional musician by trade and well-known in places I inhabit. One night I was in the middle of a game against a very capable player who wore a black pool glove. We occasionally bumped into each other and had a go as this night. He pulled a perfect snooker blocking my shot at the 8-ball to win by hiding the cue-ball behind his balls. A critical challenging shot remained for me.

Suddenly a stranger walks quickly right up to me at the table just as I’m about to shoot. Causing me to stop mid-motion.

He blurts out “You’re that really great singer! I’ve been wanting to meet you! I saw you at the blah blah blah…!!” A rudely delivered compliment is  a strange creature. I was mildly annoyed.

“Excuse me! Just a second”, I said managing to cut him off. “I’ve got a shot to take here.” He fell back and silent.

The guy I was playing who wore the glove was a black-haired 6-foot Swiss who also wore black tailored clothes, an impressive Zorro kinda figure. He thought he had me and I was afraid he was right. It was a tense moment even though neither of us really gave a serious shit who won or lost.

I jumped the cue-ball perfectly over his balls, nearly the length of the table, and the 8-ball rocketed right into the called pocket. The gloved-one shrank to about 5 feet 6. Truth be told the Swiss was a waaay superior pool player to me. I am only a shooter.

The unwelcome intruder was shocked beyond either of us. He stood for a minute with his jaw agape. He turned out to be a not-so-good musician, and also a friend. He would often tell people about that pool shot and the first time he met me, as if I wasn’t standing there.

*A “pool player”controls the position of cue-ball, the white ball, so that he rarely must take a difficult shot. A “pool shooter” takes difficult shots all the time because the cue-ball is out of position. A great shooter consistently makes those hard shots.