lfigueroa
Verified Member
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Messages
- 2,549
Thursday morning I took off for Louisville.
Somehow it felt strange to start the ride when it wasn’t the usual Siberian January to head to the DCC from St. Louis. Stopping at the neighborhood Starbucks I ordered my usual pre-trip provisions: a doppio macchiato and breakfast sandwich and headed due east.
I have a new car and one of the things I’ve come to learn about it is that it has so many computerized gizmos it will occasionally display an independent streak that has little to do with my commands or desires. In this case, the Sirius radio decided my electronic assistant wanted to listen to the Seriously Sinatra channel. Don’t get me wrong, I like listening to The Chairman of the Board as much as anybody but it’s not my usual groove. Nonetheless, I let it be and listened to Frank, Tony, Darren, Ella, Billie and so on croon to me all the way to Louisville. Pulling in in front of Railyard Billiards, Frank smoothly murmured, “Nice n' easy does it…”
Railyard Billards is a crazy big room. There’s the main room with eight 9’ tables, including the streaming table and several 7’ tables; the game room; the back room with more 7’ tables; a pro shop; and the bar area. Big TVs everywhere. Who in their right mind would not love to have this room anywhere within driving distance?! Kyle and the entire staff were beyond hospitable and somewhere during the event Kyle broke out a mechanic’s level to eliminate a roll off on one of the tournament tables. So we all knew we were in good hands.
I entered the main room and Robert wasted no time engaging me. “Come on, Lou. Let’s play some on the TV table. You know that’s where we’ll end up.” Those turned out to be prophetic words but in the interim it quickly became apparent to me that Robert knew the table far better than I. (I was to later learn he’d arrived a few days earlier.) After making my donation, to lick my wounds I drove 10 minutes to downtown Louisville and dined at Brendan’s Catch 23. It has a beautiful bar and the food was remarkable. Given the opportunity, I highly recommend you give it a try. After dinner I drove back to Railyard to play in the banks event with Frank and Nancy forewarning, “…somethin’ stupid…”
They were of course right. Banks is not in my wheel house. I drew 12squared and Dave quickly demonstrated to me the proper way to play banks. Any illusions I had my skills banking at 1pocket would do me any good in a full blown game of bumps were quickly washed down the drain in a quick and relatively painless 0-2 loss.
The next morning it was time for combat. Inexplicably, Miller, my oft-time St. Louis partner in crime, went into the calcutta with both fists and bought me for $150. Give the top bids were closer to a thousand I still felt he had grossly over paid for his horse but I grudgingly bought half myself. My first round I drew Kburris. Kevin was like an octopus, deploying all kinds of great defensive moves but somehow I prevailed. He was very, very tough but as David Mamet wrote, “Old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance.” Next round I drew Antonio from Sacramento. I had lived in Sacramento many, many years ago and I asked about Terry Stonier’s Jointed Cue and Gene Aloha’s Golden Eight Ball. Antonio gave me an update and I asked him to say hello to Gene, even though he might not remember us playing forty year ago. Antonio and I played and though he shot with much precision I once again came out on top and was able to call it a day.
The next morning the air became more rarified. I played the Cincinnati Kid (which sounds pretty cool, in and of itself). Chris deployed all kinds of defenses and I had my hands full but still managed to come out on top. Next up was Hardmix, and once again, against a full array of Ben’s wondrous defensive play, I squeaked out a win. I think, to Ben’s understandable dismay, I ran two seven-and-outs and an eight-and-out during our match. My 14.1 chops were finally kicking in.
I spent some time in the commentary booth with Steve and very much enjoyed that, especially when we were able to coax Sandra into the booth. We all kibitzed away and, somewhat inevitably, Steve tried to get a rise out of me referencing some past online exchanges we’d had but I refused to take the bait. So it all went swimmingly.
Sunday the tournament temperature went way up. I had to play the always super tough JR from Chicago. John and I have played several times in past 1pocket tournaments at Red Shoes and I knew it was going to be a tussle. I believe we went hill-hill, with somewhere in there me running a nine-and-out to squeak out the win.
So now I had to cool my jets for a player to emerge from the B Side and finally, when I got up to play, my game decided to take a walk. Now, I don’t mean I had a little trouble with my stroke. I‘m talking about my stroke channeling Emma Stone spastically dancing in “Poor Things.” I, could, not, make, a ball. I mean I went totally off the air. Robert wins 4-0. But you know, I have to be philosophical about it. I played well most of the tournament and there is not a pool player on the face of God’s blue Simonis covered Earth that has not experienced the same fugue state.
So, thank you to Steve Booth for organizing this little soiree. Thank you John Crabb for taking on the thankless job of TD and holding all the dough. And thank you to Kyle and the Railyard crew for hosting us in a lovely venue.
I also want to thank the folks who took the time to tell me they had been reading my online posts for years and how much they enjoyed what I wrote, always taking the time to read my stuff. So in this regard I especially want to thank beltsanderbill and AZ’s jalapus logan. Thank you Bill and Neil.
I thought the St. Louis crew did well. Dustin had a tough draw. AZ Jay finished fourth and I inexplicably managed to go undefeated to the finals. After the final match I got back on the TV table for 20 minutes and was able to diagnose the affliction that had struck me, so you’re all in trouble now. And later there were celebratory drinks with Liz, Sandra, and the Colonel. Somehow it did not surprise me that Billy’s drink of choice was “Jack and Coke,” lol.
So, at the end of day, all I can say is that it was a great event. It was good to see all of you and I look forward to seeing you at the next one. If I’ve misidentified anyone in this post or forgotten to mention a moment we had I apologize — the brain cells are not what they once were. The field was tough as nails and I feel extraordinarily fortunate to have had a good tournament against y’all and just wish I could have given Robert a better game, but whadda heck. I got back into my car for the ride back to the hotel with Old Blue eyes telling me, “It was just one of those things…”
Lou Figueroa
Somehow it felt strange to start the ride when it wasn’t the usual Siberian January to head to the DCC from St. Louis. Stopping at the neighborhood Starbucks I ordered my usual pre-trip provisions: a doppio macchiato and breakfast sandwich and headed due east.
I have a new car and one of the things I’ve come to learn about it is that it has so many computerized gizmos it will occasionally display an independent streak that has little to do with my commands or desires. In this case, the Sirius radio decided my electronic assistant wanted to listen to the Seriously Sinatra channel. Don’t get me wrong, I like listening to The Chairman of the Board as much as anybody but it’s not my usual groove. Nonetheless, I let it be and listened to Frank, Tony, Darren, Ella, Billie and so on croon to me all the way to Louisville. Pulling in in front of Railyard Billiards, Frank smoothly murmured, “Nice n' easy does it…”
Railyard Billards is a crazy big room. There’s the main room with eight 9’ tables, including the streaming table and several 7’ tables; the game room; the back room with more 7’ tables; a pro shop; and the bar area. Big TVs everywhere. Who in their right mind would not love to have this room anywhere within driving distance?! Kyle and the entire staff were beyond hospitable and somewhere during the event Kyle broke out a mechanic’s level to eliminate a roll off on one of the tournament tables. So we all knew we were in good hands.
I entered the main room and Robert wasted no time engaging me. “Come on, Lou. Let’s play some on the TV table. You know that’s where we’ll end up.” Those turned out to be prophetic words but in the interim it quickly became apparent to me that Robert knew the table far better than I. (I was to later learn he’d arrived a few days earlier.) After making my donation, to lick my wounds I drove 10 minutes to downtown Louisville and dined at Brendan’s Catch 23. It has a beautiful bar and the food was remarkable. Given the opportunity, I highly recommend you give it a try. After dinner I drove back to Railyard to play in the banks event with Frank and Nancy forewarning, “…somethin’ stupid…”
They were of course right. Banks is not in my wheel house. I drew 12squared and Dave quickly demonstrated to me the proper way to play banks. Any illusions I had my skills banking at 1pocket would do me any good in a full blown game of bumps were quickly washed down the drain in a quick and relatively painless 0-2 loss.
The next morning it was time for combat. Inexplicably, Miller, my oft-time St. Louis partner in crime, went into the calcutta with both fists and bought me for $150. Give the top bids were closer to a thousand I still felt he had grossly over paid for his horse but I grudgingly bought half myself. My first round I drew Kburris. Kevin was like an octopus, deploying all kinds of great defensive moves but somehow I prevailed. He was very, very tough but as David Mamet wrote, “Old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance.” Next round I drew Antonio from Sacramento. I had lived in Sacramento many, many years ago and I asked about Terry Stonier’s Jointed Cue and Gene Aloha’s Golden Eight Ball. Antonio gave me an update and I asked him to say hello to Gene, even though he might not remember us playing forty year ago. Antonio and I played and though he shot with much precision I once again came out on top and was able to call it a day.
The next morning the air became more rarified. I played the Cincinnati Kid (which sounds pretty cool, in and of itself). Chris deployed all kinds of defenses and I had my hands full but still managed to come out on top. Next up was Hardmix, and once again, against a full array of Ben’s wondrous defensive play, I squeaked out a win. I think, to Ben’s understandable dismay, I ran two seven-and-outs and an eight-and-out during our match. My 14.1 chops were finally kicking in.
I spent some time in the commentary booth with Steve and very much enjoyed that, especially when we were able to coax Sandra into the booth. We all kibitzed away and, somewhat inevitably, Steve tried to get a rise out of me referencing some past online exchanges we’d had but I refused to take the bait. So it all went swimmingly.
Sunday the tournament temperature went way up. I had to play the always super tough JR from Chicago. John and I have played several times in past 1pocket tournaments at Red Shoes and I knew it was going to be a tussle. I believe we went hill-hill, with somewhere in there me running a nine-and-out to squeak out the win.
So now I had to cool my jets for a player to emerge from the B Side and finally, when I got up to play, my game decided to take a walk. Now, I don’t mean I had a little trouble with my stroke. I‘m talking about my stroke channeling Emma Stone spastically dancing in “Poor Things.” I, could, not, make, a ball. I mean I went totally off the air. Robert wins 4-0. But you know, I have to be philosophical about it. I played well most of the tournament and there is not a pool player on the face of God’s blue Simonis covered Earth that has not experienced the same fugue state.
So, thank you to Steve Booth for organizing this little soiree. Thank you John Crabb for taking on the thankless job of TD and holding all the dough. And thank you to Kyle and the Railyard crew for hosting us in a lovely venue.
I also want to thank the folks who took the time to tell me they had been reading my online posts for years and how much they enjoyed what I wrote, always taking the time to read my stuff. So in this regard I especially want to thank beltsanderbill and AZ’s jalapus logan. Thank you Bill and Neil.
I thought the St. Louis crew did well. Dustin had a tough draw. AZ Jay finished fourth and I inexplicably managed to go undefeated to the finals. After the final match I got back on the TV table for 20 minutes and was able to diagnose the affliction that had struck me, so you’re all in trouble now. And later there were celebratory drinks with Liz, Sandra, and the Colonel. Somehow it did not surprise me that Billy’s drink of choice was “Jack and Coke,” lol.
So, at the end of day, all I can say is that it was a great event. It was good to see all of you and I look forward to seeing you at the next one. If I’ve misidentified anyone in this post or forgotten to mention a moment we had I apologize — the brain cells are not what they once were. The field was tough as nails and I feel extraordinarily fortunate to have had a good tournament against y’all and just wish I could have given Robert a better game, but whadda heck. I got back into my car for the ride back to the hotel with Old Blue eyes telling me, “It was just one of those things…”
Lou Figueroa
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and h•u•m•i•l•i•t•y might be another tough one 
)
