I was not as renowned for my expertise behind the pool cue. For the previous year, I had listened to the good-natured/bad-natured ribbing of my buddies about how my wife dominated me everytime we played, only to remind them that they suffered similar fates. I was always heavy handed playing pool, preferring to drill every shot, which usually caused me to miss more than I made, while she was a finesse player and proficient at bank shots. In her teenage years, she had actually beaten "Jack White", who was a famous pool player and trick shot artist.
In our second year, the base decided to put all the bragging and boasting among the pool elites and novices to the test and had a pool tournament. It was set to be double-elimination and on the day of the tournament, the posterboard used to track the results had an obvious empty spot in one of the two brackets after everyone signed up. I had absolutely no intention of playing, as I had no doubt that my partner would make quick work of everyone and walk away unchallenged. It was that day that I learned a very important lesson, thanks to an off the cuff comment that probably wasn't as ill-intended as I took it.
With an empty bracket, someone was guaranteed a first round bye, and his name was ....well, I'll just use his first name: Darrell. The person running the tournament hasn't going to let that bracket go unfilled and looked directly at me and asked me to fill it. I was in a pretty good mood and didn't mind, so I said "sure." Then it happened. Darrell said, "yes, an easy win for me." I'm wasn't sure until later why I let that set me off, but in a matter of one second, he cooked my goose. Had Darrell been one of the better players, like my wife, he probably would have had the humility to just shut up, but Darrell was a nothing, just like me, so that fact that he would have the audacity to blow me off before the match lit a quiet fire in me that I didn't know existed.....until that moment.
For the first time ever with a pool cue in my hands, I found myself quietly focused so intensely that I barely said two words as I quickly beat Darrell and my next two opponents with a mixture of power, finesse, and bank shots, but mostly well-thought out finessee shots that placed the cue ball perfectly in line for my next shot. True to her nature, my wife had done the same in her bracket and we found ourselves playing atop the bracket. Our match was an expected dismantling and I found myself back in the losers bracket, where I had to beat the same guys again, while she played the winner of the losers bracket on her side and dispatched him....again, uneventfully.
I, however, was playing with a focus and intensity that I had never had before and it wasn't going unnoticed. Guys were questioning what had gotten into me, as I left them setting in their chairs while I abused them....in front of the crowd watching. Since I was a nobody on the pool table, they were catching a lot of heat which I heard, and used it to inspire me to beat them worse.
Finally, I had made me way back to the top and a rematch was set. My wife only had to beat me once to claim the title of "Best Pool Player" of the whole base, while I had the (near) impossible task of beating her twice. Being the winner of the losers bracket meant I still had to let her break, and she did. I'm not sure how many balls she made before I was given a shot, but during that time, I could hear the talk questioning my manliness at getting beat by my wife. The end was near they all felt. As it turned out, her first miss would turn out to be her last shot. When I was able to line up my cue for my first shot of the match, I became the golden boy and ran the table much to everyone's shagrin. Since I had won, I was given the opportunity to break in the final match. I don't think I heard a single word in my focused state that felt much like a silencer bubble. I ran the table with a confident and precise precision until I watched the 8 ball disappear into the side pocket, and only then did I look up and make eye-contact with anyone - my wife. She stood holding her cue, with a look of humiliation on her face. This was her game and on her coronation night, I had stolen the crown.
"You could have given me a shot," she said.
"No, because if I had, you would have won." I replied, very matter of factly.
The guys turned all of their ribbing on her, while questioning what got into me, and ribbing us both about war on the homefront once we went home. In truth, I played her style and it suited me well. As I drove her home that night, she finally spoke and prompted the question about what got into me. My reply, "Darrell pi$$ed me off." I have learned many times over since then that I play my best when someone pipes off and causes me to turn off my own built in distractions that serve to cause me to self-destruct by not focusing.
Many years later and near the end of our marriage, I again played pool with her and a close guy friend that I was going through a strained relationship with at the time. I felt they were talking behind my back and found out later, I was correct. As we played that night, I beat them both a total of eight times straight before a loss - all because of negative motivation and intense desire to show others that I'm not to be taken lightly.
The picture above was taken by a friend recently during a trip to Tulsa, and it reminded me of those nights. As a side note, I'm not left handed, but when shooting pool, a rifle, or layups in basketball, I'm a natural lefty.... I have to give kudos to my deceased father for passing along the the trait of being ambindextrious .