When he launched 60 Minutes, the legendary television producer, Don Hewitt, instructed his correspondents: “Tell me a story.”
And that idea, that simple concept, was what was special -- to me anyway -- about the recent Chicago one-pocket showdown.
There was an ongoing storyline.
Two one-pocket veterans agreed to a for-profit face-off.
Toss in some fun Chicago food-woofing -- hot dogs, Italian Beef, pizza, etc.
Include a feared local thug to hold the cash.
Game on!
In one corner ... Mr. ‘Leave ‘em Long’ John Henderson. His opponent … ‘Mr. Cool Hand Luke’ aka The One Pocket Ghost. Each well known to aficionados of the game. Each well respected.
A significant wager.
Plus … live streaming!
So, the stage was set. And the contest was … well, contested.
The post-match reaction in the world of one-pocket has been absorbing. Almost universal appreciation for both players. Appropriate kudos and understandable squabbles about shot selections, strategies, execution, pace.
Adding spice to the gumbo were the ongoing speculations about the age factor, home court advantage, having a stakehorse v. betting your own money, etc.
And, as with today’s more interactive TV audiences, pool fans were able -- through an admittedly odd chat set-up -- to somewhat converse and comment in real time. Sweat bets negotiated in the open.
Point?
Unlike the excellent Derby stream (and other splendid tournament streams), the Red Shoes coverage told a cohesive story -- beginning, middle and denouement. In Chicago there weren’t those disconnected vignettes, those random matches between players whose influence on the overall standings was unknown. Nor were there interminable waits for action on the TV table.
In Red Shoes, you could root for Mr. Henderson, root for The Ghost, root for a great contest (which they delivered!) … but no matter where you sat in the cheering section, you knew the score, knew the story, knew the players.
Extolling the obvious is my life,
Sunny
P. S. Room for improvement? Natch! Live commentary in Chicago would have been most appreciated … Danny D. pre-lamenting, ‘oh no, I don’t like that shot!’. The warm, inviting voice of Dr. Bill. Joey’s quiet enthusiasm, Scott’s insightful color analysis.
P. P. S. Yes, I do appreciate how much easier it is to ‘tell the story’ when there are only two combatants. But -- still! -- there must be a better way to showcase the astonishing talent and astonishing action in streamed tournaments.
P. P. P. S. To belabor a laborious point ... yes, I do realize that Red Shoes was not a contest between two of the world’s most elite players. But if professional pool has a future -- and some believe that future will reside, at least partly, in TV-land -- then the simple ability to relate an understandable narrative to a mass audience could well be one of the pivotal drivers of success.
Tell me a story.
And that idea, that simple concept, was what was special -- to me anyway -- about the recent Chicago one-pocket showdown.
There was an ongoing storyline.
Two one-pocket veterans agreed to a for-profit face-off.
Toss in some fun Chicago food-woofing -- hot dogs, Italian Beef, pizza, etc.
Include a feared local thug to hold the cash.
Game on!
In one corner ... Mr. ‘Leave ‘em Long’ John Henderson. His opponent … ‘Mr. Cool Hand Luke’ aka The One Pocket Ghost. Each well known to aficionados of the game. Each well respected.
A significant wager.
Plus … live streaming!
So, the stage was set. And the contest was … well, contested.
The post-match reaction in the world of one-pocket has been absorbing. Almost universal appreciation for both players. Appropriate kudos and understandable squabbles about shot selections, strategies, execution, pace.
Adding spice to the gumbo were the ongoing speculations about the age factor, home court advantage, having a stakehorse v. betting your own money, etc.
And, as with today’s more interactive TV audiences, pool fans were able -- through an admittedly odd chat set-up -- to somewhat converse and comment in real time. Sweat bets negotiated in the open.
Point?
Unlike the excellent Derby stream (and other splendid tournament streams), the Red Shoes coverage told a cohesive story -- beginning, middle and denouement. In Chicago there weren’t those disconnected vignettes, those random matches between players whose influence on the overall standings was unknown. Nor were there interminable waits for action on the TV table.
In Red Shoes, you could root for Mr. Henderson, root for The Ghost, root for a great contest (which they delivered!) … but no matter where you sat in the cheering section, you knew the score, knew the story, knew the players.
Extolling the obvious is my life,
Sunny
P. S. Room for improvement? Natch! Live commentary in Chicago would have been most appreciated … Danny D. pre-lamenting, ‘oh no, I don’t like that shot!’. The warm, inviting voice of Dr. Bill. Joey’s quiet enthusiasm, Scott’s insightful color analysis.
P. P. S. Yes, I do appreciate how much easier it is to ‘tell the story’ when there are only two combatants. But -- still! -- there must be a better way to showcase the astonishing talent and astonishing action in streamed tournaments.
P. P. P. S. To belabor a laborious point ... yes, I do realize that Red Shoes was not a contest between two of the world’s most elite players. But if professional pool has a future -- and some believe that future will reside, at least partly, in TV-land -- then the simple ability to relate an understandable narrative to a mass audience could well be one of the pivotal drivers of success.
Tell me a story.
