You Play Where the Game Leads You

Last week a reader of this blog had a suggestion that I write about some of my experiences traveling around playing in the 1990's.

I have a million great stories from that time so I had no real idea which one to choose until I read his request a little further and he said, "throw in a few stories south of the border."

Aha!  Yes, I grew up playing in El Paso, Texas and I do have a good story about playing a guy in Juarez, Mexico.

I can see the question marks forming over people's heads.

Isn't Juarez where they ::gulp:: KILL people at an alarming rate?

Yep, that's the place.  Except back then it was MUCH different.

Safe and entertaining if you knew the language.

A few friends decided that it was time to take me over to a bar in Juarez and see if they could get a certain player there to match up with me.  I don't remember the guy's name, but he was a dentist and had a nickname that had to do with that.

Now, for some background.

Four of us decided to head over on a Friday night.

We comprised one Mexican guy who spoke almost no Spanish at all.  And three gringos of whom only one spoke Spanish.  Me.


We get to the bar and are getting the fish eye from every corner of the building and it was making me damn nervous.

I wanted out and I told my friends we should leave.

They ignored me and asked flat out for the player we were looking to play.  A guy who looked like he might have gotten out of prison that afternoon came and told us in Spanish that the player would be there in 30 minutes or so and we should just relax and order drinks.

My friends order drinks and I am stunned.  I feel I should educate them on the wonders of getting jarred in a place like that but they just laugh and tell me I'm the one playing and who cares if they get jarred so long as I don't.

Keep in mind I am the only one who speaks Spanish and I am constantly refusing when patrons and even the bartender are offering to buy me drinks.  Needless to say I wasn't that popular.

Long story short the guy finally arrives and we match up to play some Bank 8-Ball (the game of choice in
Mexican bars) even for $50 a game.

The original plan was I was going to play off the wall if he did, and get my cue out of the car if he brought out a cue of his own.  He had a case with him so I went and got my cue.

I beat the guy three games in a row and he decides we should play Last Pocket 8-Ball (Plan B in Mexican bars).

I beat him the first game at that and suddenly his backers don't want to pay the last game off, they want a spot, blah blah blah.

I am the only one communicating since no else speaks Spanish and I offer to play the guy a set and give him a game on the wire.  He wants more.

I offer him two games on the wire and after talking about it with his backers and pointing angrily at me and my friends one of his posse comes over, pays off the last $50 and tells me we should get the hell out of there.

Gladly.

In the car my friends are PISSED.  They keep asking me what I was telling the guy and why we got kicked out of the place only $200 winner (a decent score I thought though it would only have been $50 apiece).

I told them that we were negotiating weight when the guy came over and kicked us out.

They started laughing hysterically and telling me what an idiot I was for offering the guy anything.

One friend told me, "You insulted him by offering him a spot.  We're damn lucky we got out of there at all."

I yelled back, "The guy ASKED for weight and then asked for MORE! You morons weren't even paying attention!  What the hell was I supposed to do?!?!"

"The guy was just stalling.  He would have played even all night and not said a word," they explained.

I just sat back in the car seat shaking my head.

And then another friend chimed in and drove the knife just a wee bit further into my gut...

"Oh, and you left about $1000 in there.  That guy is a go off and he loses to every American road player that stops by and they clear a minimum of like $700.  They think you're a rude, arrogant prick and you'll never get action in Juarez again.  Who's hungry?"

Excuse me...  Point of order...

Perhaps we should have discussed all this before going.

Ya think?

Red Flags - They're Trying to Tell Me Something But What?

Last week was a setback in my pool playing.

I played terrible, I knew I was playing terrible and I just couldn't do a thing about it.  Horrifying.

And like most instances where I sense that I am struggling sometimes the results don't reflect that.

But there are always red flags and they were telling me something was very wrong.

My week started with a combination APA Masters league and APA 8-Ball league that I play on Wednesday night.  Two leagues, same night, same building.

I won my Masters match 7-0.  All is well with the world, right?  No.

I played poorly and was just lucky.  And I knew it.

Next up 8-Ball where I won my match 5-1.

A guy who wins matches 7-0 and 5-1 can't be playing poorly certainly.  Except, yes he can.

There were red flags.  Plenty of them.  More on that later.

So we come to Thursday night where I played two matches of BCA Masters 8-Ball.  A regular match and a make-up match from the first week of the session.

In the regular match I broke and ran the first rack in crazy out of line, out of sorts fashion against an excellent player.  And then the wheels shot off.  As they were bound to.

I lost the next four games dogging my brains out at every turn and just playing like a chump against more excellent players.

On to the make-up match where I played slightly better (3-2) against excellent players again but still something wasn't right.

Red flags.

For me I have three proven indicators that I am off.

1) Balls I miss fly around and go into other pockets (literally NEVER happens if I am right)
2) I constantly barely hook myself on position shots that require touch
3) I scratch anywhere and everywhere

Sometimes it is just one of these red flags and sometimes, like this last week, it is all of them.

When these things start to pop up in my game I know I am in trouble and I go through all the normal routines of checking fundamentals, taking extra time, etc.

But last week it didn't work.

Staying down on the ball helped some of it, but not all.

The red flags were trying to tell me something and I just couldn't figure out what.

So Sunday I consciously worked on staying down, level stroke, eye pattern and many other things but nothing really improved...  I just got more and more frustrated.

I then got to thinking that I might be doing myself more harm trying to push though a bad spell when it clearly wasn't working.  Would I just ingrain a bad habit I couldn't recognize by continuing to play?

So I walked away and I won't play again until this Wednesday.

In the past I have always snapped out of slumps like this and played really well coming out them.

Here's hoping that's what's going to happen here as well.

I just hope my red flags are a little more clear in communicating with me in the future and I am a little more diligent in figuring out what it is they are trying to say.

To Drill or Not to Drill? That Is the Question

When I first started playing pool I just threw balls out on the table and tried to pocket them.

No concern for english, draw or follow.  Just pocketing balls.

And that's the way it should be.  When you're a beginner.

Over time I just continued that same method and added in the more advanced techniques.  And got very proficient at some of them.

"SOME" I say because I would continuously practice the things I was good at and just ignore what I wasn't.

True Story: I wasn't even remotely proficient at following a ball until I was in my mid-20's when my road partner, Mando Canales, stood there amazed when I told him I couldn't follow a ball with any accuracy and he insisted I set up a follow drill and practice.

A "drill"?!?!  What is this "drill" you speak of?

That's right, I had never once in my life run a pool drill of any kind.

I practiced the stuff I was good at in an unorganized way and avoided what I wasn't good at like the plague.

I'd love to tell you that the fatal day with Mando set me on a course of lifelong drilling and introspection but I'd be lying.

As soon as I learned follow I just added it to the toolbox of things I was good at and avoided everything else I wasn't.  Same as always.

It took going to Pool School in my 40's to teach me that training to play pool (Drills), practicing pool (Breaking and Running racks) and playing pool (Competition) are completely separate things.

Now, I am a meticulous driller.

I set up various drills from various sources and run through them.  Sometimes they are helpful, sometimes not so much.

The hidden truth to drills is to be completely honest with yourself while doing them.

Don't have any expectations of how well you "should" do.

It's so easy to tell yourself things like "Well, I should have made that so I'll count it."

Or, "If I hadn't been distracted I would have made that so I'll count it."

Remember, failures don't count when you compete just because you think you should, could, or would have done better.

If you aren't currently
 into drilling try some progressive drills related to one of your weaknesses.  There are loads of them online.

Write down the results and be completely honest.

More than likely you'll find that you don't play as consistently as you think you do.

And if you play more consistently you'll win more.

Don't wait a lifetime to figure that out.

Leagues - A Love/Hate Story

Last week I was laid low with the flu and didn't participate in any pool activities.

In the days before I got a table at my house my two nights out a week playing in leagues was my only table time other than big local, regional or national tournaments.

If I got sick and didn't go to league, well I didn't get to hit balls.  Period.

But are leagues a good way to practice pool and are they even a good measuring stick for how well you are playing or how far along your game has come?

And here is where hundreds of opinions collide and furniture gets thrown.

I am of the opinion that leagues are a throwaway in regards to practice or measuring progress.

For me leagues are a nice way to pass the evening playing pool with friends.

When I join a team I pretty much insist that everyone is a nice, fun and laid back person.  The last thing I need on a night out is a bunch of idiotic drama.

So, truth be told, I don't treat leagues all that seriously.

In BCA league you play one game against five opponents.  Pressure packed and very difficult to do.

Especially difficult for me because I am not good in one game situations unless I have played a number of games before and have a "feel" for the match.

In APA, TAP and NAPA you play sets against a single opponent, but the sets are handicapped unless you are playing an equal skill level.

I still think these are a better way to practice pool and get prepared to play elsewhere, but all the best players in this area play BCA Masters and I want to play the best.

I could easily play league seven nights a week and I know people who do.

I just don't treat them seriously enough to pay league dues that many times just to hang out and cut up.

Love hanging out with friends and goofing around, but I hate it that we have to keep score and pronounce winners and losers if I'm not going to be 100% serious.

But I continue to play in them and I am trying to get better about bearing down all the time while playing.

Not as easy as it sounds.

Expectations, Realities and Excuses

I didn't play well this weekend at Stop #1 of the 2015 Omega Billiards Tour this past weekend.

There, I said it.

Why did I lose 2 matches and only win 1?  Why was I not particularly competitive in either of those losses?  Why did I fall so short of my goals and expectations?

Well, because I made too many mistakes and missed too many balls.

And that, folks, is ALWAYS the reason I lose.  Plain and simple.  Laid out for the world to see.

I can beat myself up for weeks, even months, about why I played that bad.  I have a laundry list of excuses.

* I was distracted running the online brackets - True, but I fancy myself a bit stronger mentally than that

* The music and atmosphere of the place were bothering me - Also true.  But I have been doing this a long time and if stuff like that is going to bother me then I should probably stick to online bracket management.

* I had a minor cue malfunction (my bumper fell off in the middle of a match) - Again, true.  This actually bothered me quite a bit and I never really recovered.

* My lucky UTEP socks completely failed me - Don't even get me started on those sons of bitches

The point is that all of these things compounded together sabotaged my Saturday in a way I just didn't see coming.

But they are just excuses.  Nothing more.  Excuses are an ongoing reason to fail, and I refuse to do that.

In the weeks leading up to the tournament I trained as well as I ever have, sparred with some great players who all assured me I was playing good and I played really well in league matches.


None of that mattered.  And sometimes that's the case.  Sometimes you do everything you know how to do and when the time comes to deliver, your mind and spirit are off somewhere else doing something else.

And it sucks.

So, what next?

I could quit pool forever and forget I ever took up this infernal game.

Alas, I'm not a quitter.

More training, more sparring, more hard practice and an evaluation of what to do about not letting all these external factors compound against me is what is in order.

And I'll do that.

And I'll be back.

Believe it.

I Love Music

In 2013, my first year on the Omega Tour I had a small ritual that I followed driving to each tournament.

I would create a playlist of songs the night before and play it on the way to the event.

The songs mostly were just songs I like a lot or that get me pumped up to play but some of them contain key lyrical elements that help remind me of things to pay attention to while I am playing.

Last year I got lazy and fell out of the habit of doing this but this year I am back on it.

So here are my jams for tomorrow morning...

Lovely Day - Bill Withers   Any day spent playing pool is lovely - Have fun!
Canned Heat - Jamiroquai   This song makes me want to MOVE - Be upbeat!
Safe European Home - The Clash   Don't forget "safes"
Three Days - Jane's Addiction   Long-ass song that really gets me pumped
Killing in the Name - Rage Against the Machine  The final pump up song

Those won't last me the whole trip but after I have listened to them I'll turn off the music and focus on my game plan for the day.

Every little bit helps.

Someone Catch My Butterflies

It's the eve of the 2015 season of the Omega Billiards Tour and I'm not afraid to admit I am nervous.

This is my third year on the Tour and frankly I am expecting it to be my best season yet.  But you never know and that's where the butterflies come in.

Two seasons ago I finished just outside the Top 10 at #12.  Last year I struggled badly and missed two events and finished #46 during a year where I was completely rebuilding my game from top to bottom.

My 7th-8th finish in the season finale in November has me thinking big thoughts for 2015.

Now it's time to see if all the hard work and dedication will pay off in positive finishes.  And it's scary.

There are more good players on the Tour now than there ever have been.  There is nothing easy about winning matches in these events.

Doubts pop up uninvited - Am I ready? Could I have done more? Am I good enough?

I think I know the answers to these questions but I just don't KNOW.

So tomorrow I screw it together and jump in the fire.

This is the best Tour I have ever played on with the best group of regular competitors you could hope for.  They are a second family to me and I will have a great time no matter what.  I promise.

Someone just needs to corral these butterflies and get them out of my stomach before they run amok.