Bizzaro Rules

Another night, another tournament.
Last night it was at Jim's Vista Lounge,
playing race-to-one 8-ball on little tables (yuk).

Here in this remote backwater of pooldom
they invented some bizarre rules.
For starters, if you put the cue ball in a pocket,
it's ball in hand, but only behind the head string.
(Like straight pool.)
In the APA, it's ball in hand anywhere,
except if you pocket the cue ball on the break,
and then it's ball in hand in the kitchen
(behind the head string).

Ok, I can live with that rule, I guess.
But check this one out:
If you table scratch (no ball/rail),
you lose your turn, of course,
but the cue ball just stays where it stops!
Again, like straight pool,
but at least in straight pool you lose a point.
Here, there's no penalty at all.

This can lead to some strange behavior.
Any safety attempt is like a push-out,
but the other guy has no option,
he has to take the shot as it sits.
But of course, he can do the same thing to you.

What is the point?
I have no idea...

I had the chance to test the limits of this rule
in my match with El Maestro
(who, in his usual magnificence, won the tournament).
At one point we must have traded safeties
at least a dozen times in a row.
While he took full advantage of the bizzaro-rule
I tried my best to play the normal rule
of ball and rail for a safety
just for the practice,
but when I ran out of imagination
I resorted to the bizzaro-rule.

So maybe that is the reason for the wacky rule:
they don't want to force the players to think too much.
Who knows...

I won every match I played,
except for the two times I played El Maestro.
I guess I can't complain about that.

In one of my matches,
my opponent tried the most blatant sharking
I have ever had attempted against me.
Of course, it had no effect as I ran out on him,
thinking all the time of that line from
The Color of Money:
"I don't rattle, kid"

I have been sharked by the best of them,
El Maestro himself!

Overall, I played pretty good,
and made some fun shots...

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Perfect

Tonight was a crescendo of stress.

I felt jinxed from the start:
it's a dinky bar box pool table.
Real pool players let their stroke out
on the regulation full-size tables.
(My only losses last session were on bar boxes)

Tonight was the last match of the session.
Our team was in a tie for first place.

We needed four wins
to cinch the Division Championship.

I needed to win
or the team would lose.

I needed to win
to stay undefeated
and win the Perfect Session trophy.

All of this was hanging over every shot.
The games were long.
Lots of safety play.
Every shot was a potential match winner/loser.

Now, for the heart-stopper:
My worthy opponent
(Seth Walter, skill level 5)
only needed 3 games to my 5,
and he got himself to the hill 2-2,
so I needed 3 in a row to win.

Must win 3 games in a row.
For the undefeated Perfect Session,
the team,
the Division Championships...

If I lose,
I'm a choke, and a joke,
and my name will be spat from the mouths
of pool shooters far and wide.

If I win,
there will be great joy in the land,
and I will bask in the glory of
Victory!

These are my possible futures, it's true.
But either of these futures is
the result of what I do Now,
each instant of this match,
as it plays out.

First of all, I must
get my mind back in the game.
So I go stand alone,
away from team distractions,
and look only at the ball layout,
and think only about
what I will do when I get a shot.

Right then, about 3 major babes,
in matching green slutty dresses,
and spike heels,
entered the bar,
cruised around talking with customers,
and then left,
all within about 2 minutes.
I didn't catch what they wanted,
maybe selling tickets or something...

Right there you have an example
of how un-focused I was on the game.
If I was truly in the game,
I would never have noticed anything
other than the game,
not even triple babe-aliciousness.

I am living through a nightmare match,
my head is completely up my butt,
I am within minutes of becoming a Loser.

No place to hide.
I was on the ropes.
Going down fast.

In aviation they have a phrase
to describe the moments prior to disaster
when the pilot-in-command
"runs out of altitude, airspeed, and ideas"
all at the same time.

Everything was on the line...

What man could rise to such a challenge?

The pressure was at volcanic levels!
Human beings are not built to endure this.
The heart will blast through the chest,
or an artery in the brain will erupt.
Explosive ear hair growth!
Instant goiter!
Boils!
Spontaneous combustion!
And then, of course, death.

But,
it wasn't my day to die.

Somehow,
I rose to the challenge.

It was ugly.
But I won.

Like they say:
"The record books don't say How, only Who".

As of tonight,
the record books will forever confirm that
during the Summer Session APA 8-ball,
ending August 9, 2007,
Michael McCafferty
did achieve:

1.
the MVP trophy,

2.
the Perfect Session trophy,
(undefeated)

3.
the Division Championship,
(team)

4.
Skill Level Seven,
(the highest).

As I write this,
I'm enjoying a pint of Murphy's stout
with a Bushmills Black depth-charge,
and getting philosophical about how
this could have turned out so differently,
with a bit more of a roll one way or the other...

Which god favors me so...
Fortune, Destiny, Chance?
And, why?

For the answer, stay tuned...

Until then, here's a clue:

Begin It Now!

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy,
the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.

Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation),
there is one elementary truth,
the ignorance of which
kills countless ideas and splendid plans:

That the moment one definitely commits oneself,
then Providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one
that would never otherwise have occurred.

A whole stream of events issues from the decision,
raising in one's favor
all manner of unforeseen incidents
and meetings and material assistance, which no man
could have dreamed would have come his way.

Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has Genius, Power and Magic in it.

Begin it now!

(Goethe)

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Invincible

Last night,
two alpha dogs faced off in battle.
One of them was me.

Only one of us would emerge the Victor.
It was him or me.

I entered this battle
with a perfect record of 6 matches, 6 wins.
This is what I had at stake.
I was loathe to lose
and soil my spotless record.

I had to win.

The match was an ugly slugfest.

My strategy was to cut off his oxygen,
to give him no hope,
to frustrate him,
to let him see only darkness,
reduce his odds of success,
to burden him with doubt...

In so doing, I played tight,
I did not Flow,
and I missed shots,
there were distractions,
the tables, bar boxes, were pure garbage.

At the end,
after two and a half hours of chessmatch,
I ruled the day.
(5-2 vs. Tony Bigbee, skill level 7)

Seven matches played, seven won.
I remain undefeated.
Alone,
at the top.

In all of San Diego APA 8-ball,
with more than 1600 players,
there are only 84 (less than 5%)
who are ranked Skill Level Seven
which is the highest skill level possible.

I'm one of them.

As of this time,
now past the middle of the session,
I have won more matches than any other Seven,
and I am undefeated.

---

It is early morning as I write this.
I woke up after only 4 hours sleep.
The adrenaline of last night's victory
still pumping hot in my veins.

More juicy than the victory itself
is that it takes me to the highest point.
Victorious in every contest.
No matter the opponent,
no matter the venue,
no matter the conditions.

In the Fullness of Time,
it has come to pass that
I walk among the Sevens as One of Them,
and, for this moment,
I am undefeated.
I fear no one.

After last night's match,
El Maestro shook my hand,
looked at me squarely,
and in all dead seriousness said:
"No one can beat you."

Wow.

---

Invincible:
The Legend of Fast Mikie
On the Path of Truth and Beauty in
The Art and Science of Billiards
as taught by
"El Maestro" Tony Sorto

story told by
"Fast Mikie" Michael McCafferty

Email now to reserve your
personalized, signed first edition collectors' copy.
only $US 22.50, limited time introductory period
includes tax and shipping
(outside USA extra).

Includes private, members only website access
to web cam, video library, and forums.

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Just when you think you've escaped...

... they pull you back in!

I thought the current APA 8-ball team session was over.
But somehow, we made it into the playoffs,
so there was the prospect of several more matches,
plus Las Vegas for the nationals.
Will the pain ever end?

On the bright side,
there was the opportunity to win again,
but as it happened, that didn't happen.
In fact, it was even worse than that.
Not only did I lose,
I lost to the guy I won against 2 weeks ago,
(the top ranked player, Dave Arballo)
and even worse, if I had won,
the team would have advanced in the playoffs.
So that makes me the fall guy.

It was ignominious.
I missed a long straight in 8 ball.
How can I do that?
Of course I have seen world champions do that.
Of course I have even seen El Maestro do that.
But nothing lessens the pain of ME doing that.

What actually caused such a miss?
What let my full attention wander
at the moment of stroking the ball?
More importantly,
how can I keep this from happening?

It must be true that such a humbling experience
serves as the foundation for future growth.
One step back, two steps forward...

Naturally, it was not ALL horrible.
I made some really nice shots.
But it wasn't enough.
My miss on the 8 gave my opponent new hope,
and he drove the final nail into my coffin
with a nice break and run for the match win.

OK, Dave, that has earned you an invitation
to Mikie's Fun House,
and an opportunity to play on a real pool table
(9' Gold Crown, not a dinky bar table).

I shouldn't complain about the bar table,
even though my only losses were on bar tables.
Last night I actually liked the table!
Slow nappy cloth, un-level, crowded, hot, loud,
but that didn't seem to bother me at all.
I felt relaxed, confident, focused...
Until that one miss on the 8.
That probably rattled me,
and gave hope to the enemy.

Disaster lurks on every stroke.
My focus must become stronger.

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Learning experience 4-26-2007

My winning streak has come to an end.
I am human.

But, I am driven to be more.
I am superman.

So, superman,
what Kyrptonite felled you this night?
What was the cause?

I was calm, well rested, clear of mind.
Except for my ears which seem to be sick,
so I taking an anti-biotic.
But that's not an excuse.
I don't feel any effects of that drug.

Today I was practicing at home,
but kept missing easy shots.
Inconsistent, unfocused.

What's going on?

Tony was watching my match, tonight,
at the same time he's playing his match
on the next table.

His first observation is that
all 3 of my losses this session
have been on 7 foot tables,
so there's something about
the small size table that's throwing me off.

I agree.
I hate small tables
I feel constrained on a small table.
I like to let my stroke out.
(such as it is)

But why did I miss shots?
I knocked the 8 in early.
Missed another 8.
Missed two bank shots.
Safety play weak.
Scratched on the break.
It was humiliating.

I think it's because I let go of my spirit.
I did not want to be there.
I hate that bar,
It's disgusting
with thick cigarette smoke in the air.
The only reason I do it is for the team.

Tony says, before the match,
there is no hope for our team
to qualify for the city championships,
whether I win or not.

To sum it up:
It's the last match of the session.
Whatever we do doesn't matter.
Team doesn't need my win.
I hate the place.
And did I mention that
it's uncertain even IF I'm going to play?

My warrior spirit was down.

That, I think was the primary reason.

Plus, it was late in the evening,
so I had taken in lots of smoke by then.
Waiting for hours in heavy smoke
to do something irrelevant.

The waiting wore me down.

I should have walked out of there.
We had extra team members
who could have played and had fun.
But my heart wasn't into it.

And, something about seven foot tables...

---------

Let us celebrate this rare moment in my life
for the perspectives it brings,
seeds of future greatness.

-------

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Marathon chess match in a smoke filled room

Thursday night, another APA team 8 ball match...

I'm up first, against Dale,
who is ranked 6th in the MVP standings,
only 3 points out of second place.
I've never played on this table before
and get only two practice shots before we start.

I win the lag, break, and I'm hooked.
He shoots good and gets out. 1-0.
He breaks and gets a few balls.
I'm hooked again, so I try a safety
and mess it up.
He's out, to make it 2-0.

This is no way to start a match!
If he wins the next game,
he's on the hill,
and I'll need 5 games in a row!

That's just crazy thinking.
Ignore the score.
Focus on the table, the shot.
I gotta bear down, hard.

It was a marathon chess match
that lasted 100 minutes.
It took all the brainpower I could muster.

It was a pleasant surprise
when I hear the team's applause,
and my opponent comes over to shake my hand.
I didn't know until then that I won the match, 5-3.

The conditions were awful.
Heavy cigarette smoke.
(I hate cigarette smoke!)
Mini bar tables.
Extremely lively cushions, but slow cloth.
(Now there's a challenging combination!)
And, I swear, the table tilts uphill
at the entry to the pockets!

As the match wore on,
my focus faded out a couple of times,
probably due to the smoke,
but I caught myself
and got back into the game
by sheer will power.

I'm still learning...

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Mini-Table Blues

Played APA league 8-ball last night,
on tiny (6') tables in tight quarters.
Although we play with a red-dot cue ball
which a team member brings with him,
we were stuck using the house object balls.

The three ball had some gnarly schmutz on it.
Caked-on, yet thick enough to cause zany rolls.
The others weren't much better.
The table was recently recovered,
but it sure wasn't Simonis!

The cloth was slow,
but the rails were quite lively.
That made an interesting combination.

You would think that they would re-level
the table when they re-clothed it,
but this table showed no evidence of level.
Ball behavior was bizarre.

I might be missing some subtle differences
between 6 and 9 foot tables
and how strategy is played.
I am definitely feeling that
position play must be more precise.

Since we are using a smaller table,
but the balls are the same size as used on larger tables,
then isn't a snooker-safety
more effective because
more of the table area is covered
when stuck behind a ball?

Does this mean that
safety play has greater rewards on tiny tables?
Or is this possible benefit discounted
by the requirement for more precise position?

Including last night,
I have played on mini-tables
only twice in the past couple of years
and I came in second both times.

I like the 9' tables
because you can let your stroke out,
and that makes for more beautiful shots.

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From One Thing Know All Things...

This past Thursday night was another APA match.
The ball re-arranger was Joel,
who I have played before, and won,
but it was close.
He shoots fast and true,
so El Maestro's advice was to slow down,
and the strategy was working,
but the best of strategy will fail
if I miss, and I did.
He didn't.
He won.

It was the tiniest of tables, a toy.
Lots of clusters in 8-ball.

As soon as I entered the place,
I wanted to get outta there.
(It's the hermit in me!)

The night before I played straight pool
and had some good runs
and overall I played well,
winning both matches by wide margins.
So I should have been strong for Thursday.

I was jittery and apprehensive on the drive north,
but with controlled breathing exercises
I was able to calm my body/spirit
in time for the match with Joel.

I haven't seen him for at least a year,
and as he walks up to me to say hello,
he's coughing and gravelly-voiced,
explaining he's been sick as a dog for weeks,
and me being a germophobe,
the last thing I want to be doing is
breathing his exhalations and getting his bug.

What's with all the head trips?
Why do I allow myself to think other people's thoughts?
El Maestro's advice has always been
to not look them in the eye,
not communicate with them,
ignore them.
It's not about them,
it's only about me, the table, the balls.
He has told me more than once
that I have some need to be seen as a nice person,
and that this is a weakness
which will lead to defeat.

I must learn to completely ignore my opponent,
my surroundings, my past, my future,
everything that is not
Here
(on the table)
and
Now
(preshot routine to follow-through and stay down).

As Miyamoto Musashi said, so wisely:
"From one thing know all things,
From all things know one thing."


(Miyamoto Musashi, the greatest of the samurai)
and one of my favorite philosophers

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