Channel 9 is the Captain's Channel

Last Tuesday I didn't play on my summer league team. There's a reason for it, a good reason I suppose. But a reason none the less.

I was in NY.
Staten Island to be more exact...

I went out on business. I expected more time to play, but work got in the way and I was much too tired after 12 hours days.

It wasn't a bad trip over all... I wish I could have stayed another 24 hours... but oh well.

The flight there... OMG, GARBAGE!!!

NEVER FLY UNITED AIRLINES... if you'd like to know why... ask me.
or just read and scroll in a downward sorta fashion.

My flight was booked about a week early via Expedia... through my work job type place. They booked it, and sent me an email. Thanks :)
So a week later I write down the confirmation number and head to the airport... proceed to get into the wrong line, then correct myself, and then my anger for United Airlines begins.

I get to the front of the line... start checking in and find out as of June 15, 2008 they'll be charging $15 for the first bag, $50 for the 2nd and (now I'm going from memory) 3rd... and $100+ for every bag there after, depending on weight.
So that surprised me, but I didn't care because it's not June 15th at this point... do I drove on.
Filled out the little "if lost contact" tag and attached it to my 1 bag going under the plane... and wait for someone to collect said bag.

The guy next to me is on the Customer Help(less) Phone... obviously frustrated, and getting more and more irate by the word.
I eavesdrop that he's been waiting for nearly 20 minutes and no one behind the counter has helped him. Apparently the person on the other end of the phone said "ok, well you're going to have to speak with someone behind the counter sir" because his response is "I WOULD. If they would speak with me. For 25 minutes, no one has helped me... That's why I'm calling you."

As his anger is rising, my funny bone is tickling... and I'm enjoying this unfold.
There's 3 people on the other side of his little counter space, and he's able to get 1 of their attentions... He explains that the representative on the phone would like to speak with a united rep behind the counter.

Little FYI... This guy is respectable looking. Neatly dressed and speaks very clear educated English. Not pompous or any sort of "I'm better than you" kind of attitude at all.
He asked the man behind the counter calmly. And respectfully. The response he got influenced his next words into the phone "The guy behind the counter just got off the clock. 1 other person said he doesn't speak with anyone on the phone. and the 3rd person says she doesn't want to speak with you."

Good job United.

About 3 or 4 minutes later a guy asks for my bag, I hand, he says Thanks, and throws it on the conveyer asking someone at the end of the line to handle it.
Wait a second.... did you even look at the name? Where's the destination tag that attaches to every bag going under the plane?

I spoke up, and it was added to my simple backpack.

After getting my self taken care of I mentioned the guy next to me was having issues getting service... my representative spoke to him, and turned him to the end a line about 8 people deep... which formed in the past 10 minutes while I waited.

Thumbs up United.

Fast forward through security because that's never an issue and I get to Terminal B... head down to my gate.
After leaving the main walk way area and getting to the very end of the terminal I find my number, B19.
Apparently this is the first gate before you get to the sun.
Within 2 steps onto the carpeted area I find my shirt slowly drenching in sweat... I see the people in the seats wiping sweat from their brows with shoe strings because they're out of napkins... I'm watching babies go to sleep because it's too hot to cry.
Even they know it's too hot to try and complain, Satan doesn't give 2 shits.

I have another hour before my flight starts to board... excellent. I walk around for about 5 minutes and find the coolest area near my gate and plop a seat.

an hour or near strolls by and I notice a line has formed. That's expected.

If you've never flown before... here's something you should know before this experience continues.
When you check in and you get your boarding pass, it'll show your gate, flight number, type of plane your about to fly on, your seat number, and what section you'll be boarding in.
Seat usually being 1-30 or whatever... depending on length of plane. The lower number the more forward in the plane you are.
Section usually being 1, 2, 3, 4 or a, b, c, etc... and they board accordingly.

My Ticket: Section was "n/a"....Seat was "to be determined at gate"
Strange, but ok... perhaps because it was booked with work it's a standby sorta thing.

I go to the counter... wait in line... explain to the customer service my confusion, and I'm told I'll board after group/section 4, but before Standby.
Alrighty... sounds good to me. I'm in Group 5 with no name.
Right on.

So I sit back down and wait some more. I watch groups 1, 2, 3, and 4 group into semi-lines... I decided it'd be a good time to hop in line.

Ticket guy takes my ticket and says "oh, you're not yet... you'll have to wait." and takes the ticket behind me.
Oh, sorry... I walk to the end of the line (maybe 10 people back) and start over.
Getting to the front of the line again he reads my ticket "Rabbit... You're waiting for a seat assignment... You'll have to wait. Just have a seat over there."

Talked to me like a child in a restroom. Creepy.

This is odd though... because it's a group of me and about 15 others standing, sitting, dying... the screens are flickering with over 30 standby passengers for this flight.
I go over to the desk and take land behind the 1 person in line. He's taken a spot behind the person currently being helped at the counter.

2... 3... 4 minutes pass... 5 minutes... the person is helped. Successful! and he runs off to board the plane.
So does the service rep behind the counter.

WTF?

Ticket dude is gone. Service rep is gone... now 20 names on the standby list. What the hell just happened?

I find the nearest united customer service telephone and call the same line the gent at the baggage check in called.
Get the same response "You'll need to speak with a rep behind the counter, they'll sort everything out for you sir."
This is my response after explaining that there is no one behind the counter.

"Give me a minute... I'll let you talk to Casper" and I walk away from the phone.

Checking every gate for a rep I end up walking up to gate B1.
I find 1 rep.
Behind 1 completely empty counter.

I walk up to the counter and say "Excuse me" in the American polite sort of manner... response "Gimme a minute"
She was obviously concentrating, so I wait.

about 15 minutes of my random "is now a good time?" interruptions I've long decided not to leave my post because she'd run off to magic plane land and I'll never get on my flight.
Sorry lady, you walk away from this podium, I'm on your tail. You've earned a shadow :-)

Eventually she finishes her work and starts to walk away... After 15 minutes of not really having anything to look at I've memorized her name and every piece of information on her name tag. "Nikki, I need to get on a plane. You said give me a minute... I've given you 15, can we resolve this please?"

"Sorry hun, I'm off the clock." as she turned to walk away. I read off her ID number and ask for her manager, followed by her full name.

What's with people clocking out in this place? Damn.

Spinning back to the desk... she is unable to explain what happened... does confirm that I should have had a seat right behind first class but not in economy/coach (good seats.. my favorite without spending $1000) and she was able to get me onto a flight 2 hours later. All of this after saying "that flight is still boarding... it was delayed"
"Yeah, delayed for 10 minutes. That mark was 45 minutes ago."

Thanks for the update United.

The next flight leaves in 2.5 hours, it's the last flight of the night. I make my way to chili's and buy a beer, and wait.
My new boarding pass says I'm boarding with section/group 2... this excites me a little because I like the front of the plane better.
For you safety nuts, I know that behind the wings is better as far as safe goes... but I look at it like this. If I'm gonna go, it doesn't matter if I'm in the ass of the plane or the head of a train. My number's up, it's up. I'm not afraid of death... especially since it's simply a part of life anyway.
The front of the plane is better for a couple of reasons... It's quieter. Often has a better view out of the window (less wing/engine to bother with.) Bathrooms are closer. The TV's (if equipped) often are of better quality than the rear. The crying babies/noisy children are 90% behind me (as in the back of the plane)

where was I... Oh right, section 2... I board, no issues, get to my seat... I'm in an exit isle.... awesome sweetness!
This means I get an extra 62 feet of leg room. Plus, I'm fully capable of opening a door if we go down as a flaming tin can of death. Totally capable.

I tuck my carry on under the seat in front of me, insert my head phones into the jack in the arm rest, fluff my built in airline chair pillow and snuggle in to my new home for the next couple of hours.
In the arm rest I adjust the volume to a comfortable level... and scroll through <a href="http://www.united.com/page/article/0,6722,51600,00.html">the 13 channels.</a> 2-6 actually have active noise... all others are dead air. Only 1 channel has anything remotely acceptable for my listening pleasure. This I can deal with, but I'm not happy about...
I'm one of those weirdo people that like to listen in on the communications of the captain to the tower on the ground. Not sure why, but I've always enjoyed this.
Not having this station to listen to during my flight was unsettling, but whatever.

After we reach 35,000 cruising feet of air space I get my complimentary drink. I also get ice in my drink... as a standard.
Surprise to me, United Airlines is cutting back on complementary crap... probably due to the gas prices ...cutting back on things such as ICE.

I got 1 ice cube. Who uses 1 ice cube?
I don't... I use a bunch... or none, depending. But don't tease me with 1.
Why'd you let me know "Yeah, we have ice... but you can't have any"
Bastards.

I must commend the pilots though. I snoozed a bit on my flight, and when we landed I literally didn't even know we had already touched down. Not because I was in a deep slumber... because flight sleep is never deep ...but because the touch down was actually that smooth.
It was  a brilliant thing.

Well done United.

So I go to the baggage claim to get my labeled backpack and realize it should have been on the flight that landed 3 hours prior.
Crap.
So I head to the baggage claim office and inquire about it. I'm informed that it should be in the baggage area, usually in the center on the floor.

Security officials allow this? Hey, you're the boss.
I wander back over to bags are being picked up and look around for piles of luggage. Finding 2 I look through each pile and come up empty.
I search around a little more.
and some more

about 5 minutes later I discover my bag is hidden behind about a dozen passengers waiting for their bags on the conveyor. My bag happens to be a lonely bag in the middle of the floor.
just 1 backpack in the middle of the floor...
no signs saying "lost and found"
no official police type person standing there protecting the bag
nothing indicating "this bag doesn't have a bomb"

So I risk my life and save the possible bomb filled backpack and find a taxi. Getting to my hotel at 1am isn't the greatest thing, but after check it it's also not my top priority to write an angry letter to united.
I slept instead.

I'll be in touch, United.
(no bombs, just a phone call or email or letter. Something my grandma would do... but whatever. Maybe I'll get a T-Shirt or a pencil or something nifty)

Stay tuned next week... The Return Flight!!!!
or don't, I don't really care.

There are only four words in the English language which end in "dous": tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous.

These 4 words describe my week/month.

As you could probably tell... I've been in a bit of a slump as of late.

To remedy this I've done absolutely nothing... other than showing up to league with more determination to win, then when I lose... it just hits that much harder.

I decided I'm going to start practicing at least 1 day out of the week, other than league day/nights.
When I was playing reallllly well, I was doing 1 particular drill that I bailed on for some reason. So I'm going back to that drill.
I played a little yesterday, and the drill was miserable. It's a drill that you can see immediate results and gauge fail points. At least, that's what it does for me.
Maybe I'll diagram it sometime

So since the last time I've graced the blog world with my presence I've lost every game, except 1... but that's because I was playing someone that had only watched pool... but never played before.
Go me! Way to beat up on the little people!!

Anyway...

Tuesday night league was interesting.
I walked in about 3 racks into the first match. We were down by 1 and it was 2 skill level 6's playing the match.
Our score keeper was a 5, as was the score keeper of the other team.
After being there long enough to get a beer a small argument arose from the match table.
Apparently the team Captain (also the score keeper) of the other team mentioned something about neither player (of the match) actually playing like a 6 because neither was attempting to make a ball, and break out a cluster at the same time.
Both players were offended by this comment "I'm not a 6? Who the hell are you? You're a 5! Who are you to tell me I'm not a 6?"

This slowly escalated over the course of 2 hours. Eventually the team mate of the other team quit the jack ass captain's team, joined our team... meanwhile the argument turned into a personal insult fest.

This continued for about 40 something minutes... and then the jack ass captain said something about "blah blah you're a f---ing woman"

Moments later my team's player had lifted the captain 2 feet off the ground, slammed him to the floor... maintaining a solid grip of his shirt he proceeded to hit the guy several times in the face.

I drank my beer.
Another guy from my team walked over and pulled our guy off, in doing this it gave the opportunity for the other jack ass captain to squirm away, but he wasn't fast enough.
Our guy was able to kick him in the head at least 2 times... the 2nd impact solidifying a cold knock out.

I still had half a beer left.
moments later a guy that works at the pool hall came over asking what's going on and why this guy is sleeping on the floor. This must have woke him up, because he jumped up like he had just returned from a tennis match in Vegas. Sweaty and out of breath. Unaware that he was just run over by a bus.

Three quarters of my team had left the scene at this point...
I finished my beer

Over the course of the next 45 minutes about a dozen people came over and asked what happened and why there was a fight.

I got another beer
I didn't answer these inquiries... just smirked and took another drink

There were about 2 or 3 others that were nearby that happily described what happened, insult for insult, hit for hit.

I drank my other beer

I'm sure that next week someone will tell me that there was a huge bar fight and it was 3 against 5 people and the cops showed up and had to shoot a guy in the foot to make him stop swinging a golf club at people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's tax season again... so I did my taxes... and my state taxes said "give me your state driver's license ID"... I didn't have one from this state because I moved recently (9 months ago is recent, sorta... right?)
So I went to the DMV and had everything I needed, because I called in advance.
Birth Cert, Piece of mail addressed to me... current picture ID... and $10 bucks.
I called ahead and made sure I was ready to rock. I even know the traffic laws incase they pop quizzed my ass.

Bastards.
They failed to inform me that I needed my SSN card too. The bastards.
I ask what time they close (5:30pm) and head out.
I now have to go all the way home, get a little card that doesn't have any picture on it, and then go ALL the way back... it's 1:45pm and I'm a guy... so I go to subway real quick to eat along the journey.

After subway I go back out to the car and realize that I smartly locked my keys in the car.

The spare, is also inside the car.
because I'm smart.

So I look around to see who might mug me, it's 2pm and a beautiful day... so I'm good there. I continue the survey to find who might arrest me for breaking into my own car. Right outside of the DMV, this is a concern.
In my reconnaissance I see a grocery store... Food Mart or some crap. Some all food type of place, never been in one so they MIGHT (read Doubtfully) have wire clothes hangers.

I also see an Ace Hardware store. I know where I'm going... straight to ace.
I walk into ace and instead of wasting time wandering around not eating my sammach, I ask the girl at the counter

"I'm looking for something long and skinny, like a wire hanger to unlock a car door... can you point me in the right direction?"

"Did you lock your keys in the car?"

"noo...." with shameful face indicating "yes! now give me a hanger!"

"Oh, ok. If you had I would have called a free service for you."

"Free service what? Yeah... I did actually, lock my keys, cause I'm smart."

So she gives me the number and I call... 1 1/2 hour wait. Jesus. I tell the phone "Oh wow, I just noticed a wire hanger next to my tire. Cancel the order! Thanks" -click-

Back to ACE, which was a failure because everything that would be possibly suitable was $10 plus... and I wasn't going to pay that much if I didn't absolutely HAVE to.

I wander over to the grocery store because I'm getting really hungry, and I don't want to leave my food in the shade of my car.

There's squirrels about...

Apparently this place stocks their shelves in the middle of the day on Wed. So there's a ton of boxes filling each aisle... it's like walking through a kingdom of cardboard when you're 6 and you made your own little clubhouse in the living room.
You remember.

Anyway, I found a skinny box and decided to make it work for me. Heading to the fruit dept. I grabbed like 20 little twisty ties.

Walking out the door I was stopped by a cashier... "sir, are you going to pay for that box?"

Pausing, I looked at the box... then at her... saying "no thanks" I continued my journey to the door.

Since it's a nice day I have about a 1 inch gap in my window to work with. I poke the box in... not gonna work.
I rip the box up a bit... poke poke, poke... no dice
I rip the box some more... poke fail, poke... no dice
I take the twisty ties and add strength and angle to the cardboard... slide, poke, -click-

My makeshift key:

It's a beautiful day. So I get in, eat subway and head home.
After I get back to the DMV ssn card in hand I arrive just in time at 5:21pm, get my number and since there's not a soul in front of me... get called right up.

I explain that I need to get a state license or whatever and she says "no"
I say "why"

She says "because we close at 5:30"

I point to the clock and say "What time is it?"

She says "5:22"

I say "And what time do you close?"

She says "5:30"

I say "5:30 pm Right? Like in 8 minutes... There's time, I need a license"

She says "Sorry, you should have come earlier"

I say "I did come earlier. I also called this morning and verified the documentation I needed to get a license. That person just happened to leave out the fact I needed this little blue card. Then when I was here earlier, in this very same spot, 3 hours ago, YOU told me I needed an SSN card. YOU also told me that I have 8.. now 7 more minutes before you closed.
I'd like to get a state license so I can do my taxes, please."

She says "sorry, you'll have to come back tomorrow. There's not enough time today."

I hate the DMV.

TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.

Holy Crap!! 11 days! Did ya' miss me?

....... No?

That's cool, neither did I.

Saint Patties day.... festive. Festively drunk.
My favorite part about this day is not the drinking, not the irish nature of the holiday (which reminds me....), not the parade or the beads given away at bars.

It's the Guinness commercials. This one in particular.
Absolutely hilarious.

Other than watching that once or twice, I enjoyed a fairly blurry weekend. Maybe because it was so long ago, or maybe because I was drinking. Either way... it's blurry and I forget how it went. Good I suppose.

Work
Then I had league a couple of times, lost twice... then the weekend.
Work was somewhere else in there...
Then the weekend arrived. Freakin' Finally!
This past weekend I went to a bar tournament. Had a great time...

I usually play on 9 foot tables with fairly new rails and cloth that is consistently in good condition. Kind of like the room owner knows what a pool player wants.
Rare, I know.

So in said tourney I had the luxury to play on some Valley Barbox's with 70's shag carpet in place for the felt. Tight pockets.
And the happy times of ACS/BCA rules. God I love rules that hate slop. Yummy!

The first match was against a strong player.
His hoodie said something about a castle, not white castle, but the letters were white. Anyway, doesn't matter.

I won the lag and he racked... While he was racking he watched the 5 ball (head ball) move a good 1/4 inch... then he fixed it, while lifting the rack the 5 moved the exact same direction, the exact same amount. He fixed it, another lift, another 1/4 inch.
After the 3rd "attempt" he put the rack away and just kind of walked away from the balls. After watching the 5 ball knock on china's door, get no answer, and then come back to my table... I decided to look a little closer.
If it was a little gap I was going to break it anyway, but I needed to know how to break it.
I realized the 1/4 inch I was seeing was a little less than reality. How about a about a half ball (full inch for those of you that don't play pool....)

Speaking of which... if you don't play, a lot of the stuff I talk about probably makes very little sense... why are you reading all this junk?

Thanks anyway!

Anyhow... so there was a grand canyon between the 5 and the 12, but it was still touching the other stripe. It was still touching, and it was supposed to be a friendly tourney, so I looked at the rack and then shot a confused "Why'd you just eat the stuffing out of my teddy bear for thanksgiving dinner" look at White Castle.

He approached and said "Does it need a rerack?"
My response... "yeah, might as well... there's a bit of a gap in there."

So he reracked, I broke dry... we went back and forth a few innings and he was used to the shag carpet and won the first rack.
In a race to 2, this is not such a great thing.
So I made a couple of nice shots and took the next 2 racks back to back

1-2 White Rabbit (still in the winners bracket, yey)

The Next Race to 2 was against (what I soon found out) a very adept player.
This game was fairly short, and painless. I took 2 strokes, and lost.
The lag... which I won.
I broke... dry. Then he ran the table... twice.

2-0 Really Tall Guy (I'm in the losers bracket, yey?)

So my next match was delayed because, well... winners play first.

Loser's race to 1.
Wait, 1... what's this? 1?
I played my next match against a reaaaallllly old guy, with a Neon green shirt... said something about "I walk for Breast Cancer" or something like that. I thought it was funny because I happened to be wearing my "tits-mcgee" shirt that day. (A shirt I got from a bar in S. Korea for drinking 3 shots with a rattler's tail in the shot. The tail had to touch your lips all 3 times. The shirt shows a scantily dressed lady on the back.

Anyway... I was kind of watching him play earlier in the tourney, and he looked like he knew what he was doing. He made some very nice break outs and was fairly precise with his cue ball position skillz.

So we started to play, I think he broke... I don't remember. I came up to an open table, a run out but there was work to do. 2 of my balls were completely frozen but they weren't lined up to pocket...

I made the shot and got position on the remaining ball... which I made, but locked myself behind the 8 ball so that I could finish out the match. In league I've fallen into the habit of playing banks or kicks and that kind of thing or playing a strong safe. In my league it's a foul for me to crank up beyond a 45 degree angle...
stupid league.

In practice (because I used to dream about becoming a world trick shot artist champion) I've been known to practice a masse or two.
I've won matches due to this skill, and I've beaten stronger opponents by getting out of "lock up" safes with a [i]lucky that it worked[i] masse --I'll admit that much--

And now all this information rushes back to me. Screw the 2 rail kick into a safe. Screw giving him BIH on a foul/safe. Screw the 1 rail with english. I know I'm not Efern Rayes. So screw all that... I'm goin' for it, bitches.

I cranked up, hit the masse a little softer than I wanted to... but that's because my subconscious took over for me, made the 1 ball and then won the rack. Whoot!
err somethin' like that

Then we figured I had some time so a pizza was ordered. After my 2nd piece was demolished in .3 seconds my name was called... Table 3...
Some guy named PJ.

Earlier in the day PJ had beaten the tall white guy that knocked me out of the winners circle. With this knowledge, you know he wasn't too bad of a player.
as we played our race to 1 I couldn't get the thought of smooooothh cheesey pizza with hot sauce smothering it.. outta my mind.

mmm... yum

So he broke.. some clusters remained and he played a couple of balls then got a bit out of line, and had to play safe. I kicked out, made a ball and started to clean the table. I also got out of line and had to play safe.
I'm solids, the Red 3 ball... there is no 3 foul rule... so this is the safe I played

[cuetable pic]

He attempted to make his 1 remaining ball and get the break out... didn't work so well, so he played safe.
[cuetable pic]

I didn't have a clean shot, so I played safe in the same manner... pushed his ball closer to mine... again.
He mumbled somethin' about "dirty f'in' pool playin' sons a bitches. How's a man supposed to win with low down crap like this s*&%"

Or something like that. My smile got a little bigger, and my heart warmed a little bit more.

we went back and forth with this same exact process until he finally said "screw it" and pushed the 3 A LOT closer to the pocket. Unfortunately I was frozen to both the rail, and his ball. Damnit.

[cuetable pic]

I attempted an english only kick but missed, and lost my 2nd loser's match.
Then we went to a place I've never ver ever been to before.
A fun little place, that usually isn't as crowded as it was this day.

Apparently they were having a party, and I'm not a fashion expert... but I noticed a couple of things that might not be in style.

Ever.

as the night progressed... the drinking continued... and the men looked at the ladies. Hilarious how obvious this guy was.

as the drinking continued... the dancing got crazier... and crazier... and my focus skills lacked

Some things are better than others... what can I say.

So then I had a flat tire on Monday, put on a spare and I didn't go to pool last night.
Thursday, no pool... flat tire again. Next week.. we'll see.

I have friday off work... WHOOOO!!!! BItches!!!!!!
alright!

Regionals... not quite like league.

Last Thursday night... I played a tough opponent, he was spotting a game in a race to 4. Hill-Hill, he took the final game as I rattled the 8. Out the window with the undefeatedness on thursdays.
Great game though... I never thought I'd say this, but it felt kinda' good to be told I'm sandbagging.
I'm not, of course... and it was presented as a joke, but he said it while handing me a beer... so who am I to get upset? haha... nice.

2-4 Guy that bought me a beer. Thanks guy.

The professor and I both qualified for regionals. It was a solid 2 hour drive to no where's ville, I think they had 2 bars. So we saved the environment, carpooled the 2 hours of highway. Got out there Friday night and had some of the best mexican food I've had in a LONG time.

Better than when I was in mexico even.

The burrito I got was huge. I'm talkin' massive. Bigger than my plate (if the plate was smaller) kinda' big.

Shoulda got a picture, but my battery was dead. (and the foods looked too good to wait)

So I ate the thing and got full about 1/2 way through, took the rest back to the hotel and then realized I didn't have a fridge.

"It's chilly out, I'll leave it under the car. It's like an outside fridge" I thought.

Then I realized how cold I'd get on my way out to the car, and set the little white box full of gigantic burrito and rice with refried beans covered in "super hot sauce"... on top of the TV.

Registration was at 10am the next day... That finished at about 10:30... There wasn't a single practice table unless you were able to win a table, and keep it... this was your practice.

14 tables, 108 people.

...

........

14 Diamond Pro Cut, Blue Simonis, 7feet long by 3.5 feet wide, red dot smart tables.

..

And 108 people.

...

At least they were perfect tables......

So at around 1:30 I played my first match in a race to 3. Hank played well. No idea what his real name was, but I remember him as Hank. He ran to the hill as quickly as he could... his trouble was getting over it. I realized in the first 2 racks I wasn't playing nearly as defensively as normal. Playing really aggressive, and it wasn't working.

I changed up my style, slowed down a bit (to a sharkingly slow speed, I might add) and started to play safe. A lot.

If I didn't have a run out, I'd make 1... and safe. Hank would run until he missed, and ended up leaving 1 ball + the 8... 3 racks in a row.

If you play this hellish game, you know that having 1 ball to hit, while the other player has 6 or 7 to hide the cueball behind....... this odds is bad for yous.

Hank didn't catch on quick enough, and lost his first match.

In the last 3 racks of this match I racked up around 6 or 7 defensive marks. But I won. And I'm still in the winner's bracket.

2-3 Rabbit

According to the board I had a bye... so I figure it's going to take at LEAST another hour, maybe 2 before my next match. I order a burger, it arrives and I'm waiting for a side of ranch... my name is called. My name is called to match up with someone I know. Some one that I've played against in the past.

Someone I didn't need to drive 2 hours away from my city to play against. I played a game right before I got into his car for a drive to this regionals tournament.

"Table Assignment for Rabbit and the Professor, Table 3" booms over the p.a.

I eat a french fry, he gets the score sheet. I never did get my ranch.

I meet him at Table 3.

He wins the lag, and I go straight to work... in 5 innings I have 2 racks in my pocket and I'm at the 8 ball on the 3rd rack. This is my game, my chance for vegas. My chance at glory and bright lights of gambling and booze.

I think they have hookers in vegas too. Not that I'd buy one, but that they have them.

I'm left with an easy on the 8... and like a jack ass, I over cut it... BARELY move the 8 ball, I think it budged a bout the width of a cat's whisker, and in this one singular motion of missing the 8 ball, I started the decent.

If I was on a plane that had run out of fuel... as the nose dips slightly and the angle of the plane drops 5 degrees and heads towards the deserted Australian outback... in that industry, they call this part of the flight the "Terminal Phase."

I scratched. Then I battled, fought, ridged tooth and sharpened nail... all on the felt, of course... and the professor ended up slowing climbing to his hill. Much like an old video game that I love SO much, we were hill/hill some odd 20 innings later, fighting, battling, and throwing rocks at one another to distract from the army flanking their castle.

I missed hitting the cue ball once or twice, miscue style... he did the same and let the cue drift 2 inches to no wheres. Both of us giving the other ball in hand a couple times.

He came out victorious in the end.

2-4 Professor

Unfortunately the Professor went on to play against the same person he walked all over in his first match, and lost... 3-3.

So now I'm in the loser's bracket, it's 4:30pm... and I wait.

and wait, wait, wait some more, and then continue to wait.

At 10:30 my name is called.

At this point, I don't really care. It hasn't been explained clearly what happens if you're in the loser's bracket and I know I don't really want to wake up early the following morning. I will if I have to, but I don't really want to.

So I figure if I win the loser's bracket, so what... I'm top loser? That's great! I'm still not goin' to vegas.

So I don't put forth my full attention, and I don't play some of the perfect positions that I should... and I lose my loser's match.

2-3 Short guy with a hat

I get to sleep in on Sunday, so it's not a big deal.

What did I learn?

• Nerves (for me) make more of a difference when there's other depending on me to win. When it's just me, and that's it... nerves don't affect me nearly as much
• Don't let your head get out of the game. It doesn't matter what else is going on off the table, stay in it... and stay in it to win
• I need to get back to lansing and get another burrito

I got food for christmas

And lots of food at that.

In the past 20 some years that I remember every year I'd go to my grandparents house or an aunt and uncles... the entire family would arrive with their tubaware and crock pots and glass dishes of random foods.

My favorite was always the smashed potatoes and the white meat of the turkey. I'd get a side of corn and mix it into my grey-white mound of gravy covered potatoes creating heaven... pair that with my sandwich of moist turkey and butter on a couple of french bread slices or a butter roll, whichever my arms could reach at the tender young age of --I don't remember, younger than now.

Well... a few months ago I moved to a different city, state, family, zip code and life... depending on your viewing angle.
I went to 2 different homes, and ends of the social entertainment spectrum, over xmas eve and xmas day. Eve was the classy day... You know how it is, use a coaster, take your hat off, you're in the military again.. so eat your peas and prepare for the hurry up and wait of this environment.
The eldest of this box makes 1 of the best cheese cakes I've ever consumed.
TONS of fun.. stuffy, boring.. fun.
Great wine though.

Then there's xmas day... Box number 2. Good times and good humor... and better beer. This is the fun side of the family, and this is also the best food side of the family, as it turns out.
Everything was awesome food... from the cheese covered potatoes to the cauliflower wrapped in melted cheese and the stuffing with the perfectly moist light colored turkey meat... insert nirvana angelic muzak here because that's how my belly felt.
For desert - I love cheese cake... and this family had some cheese that was .... well, soft and creamy. Gross.
If I'm eating a cheesecake, it's gotta be firm and with a comfortable tasty factory manufactured gram cracker crust.

Other than food, I recv'd a book that I've been wanting to read... and a movie (see "The Big Libowsky") to boot. Good christmas!!

Other than that... I didn't play pool. Haven't played since Sunday... 10 days ago. Damnit. Feels like a lifetime.. But did give input on a new name for our league team.
Final results are pending.