Today was the regular Thursday 8-ball tournament at the senior center. I drew number 13 as my number for match-up purposes, and while others thought that was a most unlucky number, I explained how happy I was to have it because the letter M is the 13th letter of the alphabet, and my initials are MM, so that's double lucky.
Strangely, things started out poorly with a loss in the first match, but it was all good news after that and I sailed to the finals against Eric the Brit, whose reputation preceded him as having held the crown at this tournament for 10 weeks straight. No question he was the man to beat. I guess I got lucky because he scratched on the 8 in the first game, and I won the second for the 2-out-of-3 match.
The tournament took place within 12 hours of the New Moon, which is always a good time for me, so I guess I had everything going my way.
I'm on my way home, just pulling in the driveway, when Dr. Mark waves from his pickup truck and follows me down the driveway. It seems he's got a few spare minutes and wants to try his luck at some 8 ball. His timing was inauspicious, of course. He breaks dry, and I run out. He wants to go again, for the World Championship, but it was my day, and he left after going down in flames in two games.
I'm writing this within 90 minutes of both wins, so I'm all jacked up on New Moon Lucky Alpha Geezer moxie juice, and thinking maybe I should try another tournament tonight and see if I can pull a three-peat hat-trick.
Hey, it could happen!
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