| After the excitement was over, my
mom put me to bed again. Including the by now hilarious process of taking my contacts
out. All that night, I dreamed about finally facing my father, and running rack,
after rack, after rack, of Nine-Ball. Waking up the next day, I told Mom about
the wonderful dreams I'd had. And she told me about the parts of my "dreams"
that had really occurred. The next day having a little time to spare before
I had to go to work; I went back to the poolroom. Of course the kid was there,
but this time he out-hustled himself. He wanted to play some more. So, giving
him fair warning that I had to go to work in less than thirty minutes - I agreed
to play a few games. If! He was interested in playing for fifty a game. To give
me a chance to win my money back. Only this time we played Tournament Rules, which
at that time meant everything spots, and foul on the break, cue goes behind the
line. He went for it; and this time we were playing my game. I won the break.
From there on out the table belonged to me. After the second game, the kid started
getting a bit upset. Giving him a chance to win his money back, we played the
third game for a hundred. No sound was made during that last game. Everyone was
watching, including the local road player who treated me like a little sister.
The kid never did approach the table that afternoon, except to rack. I looked
up after the match to see my player friend's jaw almost reaching the floor. After
his shock wore off, he cornered me to tell me how I had scared him almost to death.
First off for playing for fifty a game, then calmly bumping it up to one hundred.
He thought I was crazy until he saw how I was playing. During that last game,
I had shot the eight and the nine ball in left-handed. He knew that I had been
practicing how to shoot left-handed. Because of my size there were shots that
were hard for me to reach with my right, but not enough table to use a rake. Still
he could hardly believe that I had made the shots. Later he told me what had really
amazed him was the fact that I didn't even seem to realize that I was shooting
left-handed. I had approached the table, changed bridge hands, and shot the ball
like it was the most natural thing in the world. As I told him, for a hundred
a pop, I couldn’t afford for it to be otherwise. Those were the first racks
I ever ran. Today, that 'kid' is a better player than I ever was.
And, I'm proud to have been a part of his training. As for me, I hardly ever pick
up a cue anymore, being a happily married homebody. Quite a change from the girl
who wanted one day to be a professional billiards player. It was a good trade.
I have a home that I love, and the late nights of a pool player no longer appeal
to me. Still, I sometimes get the itch to pick up my Rocky Tillis or Schon and
play a little Nine-Ball. Occasionally, I will even enter a tournament; just to
see how I'll do.  Sometimes,
I end up pleasantly surprised. [Back]
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