Pool League

As I mentioned I got roped in to playing in my bartender’s first week of pool league play. I’m not a great pool player. I don’t even know if you could call me a good pool player. Hell, I lose to the freaking Renter 50% of the time. (By the way, is it worse for a white man to call an asian woman a bitch than if an asian man said it? – way to go Isaiah). Some days I can’t see shit on the pool table. Some days I make unbelievable shots. Well, we had a little of both happening last night.

I went up to the bar around 7:15 while the Renter was getting ready (applying the Halloween mask that she calls makeup – oops, did I say that?). My pool partners were there watching the Brewers game (another win!). We were shooting at a different bar so I had to suck down my pitcher in 30 minutes and catch a ride with the Renter.

Going from the corner bar with five people in it to this other bar with 50 people in it was quite the shocker. I don’t know if it was because this bar was located close to a college or because it was in West Allis or what but there were a lot of people, most wearing sport memorabilia shirts. Being 6’5” came in handy and I spotted my bartender in the back by the pool tables.

You could tell right away that this was no joke. There wasn’t any kidding around or story telling or anything like that; these seven other guys were there to play pool. All eyes were on the pool table.

I ended up batting cleanup (fourth). At first I was glad that I was getting extra time to prepare and warm up for my first game. After fifteen minutes of “preparing” my legs were shaking and my palms were sweating. There was absolutely no fucking around with these guys. Never being short on words myself, I wasn’t sure if I could crack jokes or not so I just sat there not saying anything. I got the Renter to play one game with me on the other table and that didn’t help at all.

And then it was my turn. My first game I played against some guy who had to have been close to 70 and couldn’t even walk well. Yeah, well, he kicked my ass. I went back to my table and sucked down beer with no regard to how many stray cats I was going to fuck that night (‘cause when I’m drunk there’s nothing like a little stray pussy).

My turn came up again 30 minutes later. By this time I was about three pitchers in and feeling a little more confident. Hell, no one on our team had won yet so there wasn’t much pressure on me to get the W. I broke, made one ball, made another ball, and then missed horribly. (Throughout the night I was keeping track of “The Worst Shots of the Night,” which were all made by me of course. One memorable one was hitting the left side of the ball when I was aiming for the right – fuck. Thankfully “The Worst Shots of the Night” count only made it up to three.) My missed shot didn’t leave my opponent with much of a shot so I was up again shortly after that. I don’t know how I did it but I pulled off the win with a tough shot on the eight. My team captain simply smiled and shook his head as he marked down the score. Out of eight games played I was the only one to get a win.

My third turn came with me being four pitchers in. When the team captain asked me to fill in he told me I wouldn’t win a game so I felt absolutely no pressure as I had the only win for the team (still). I kept my beer glass close (in my hand) and paid close attention to the game. And mother fucker, wouldn’t you know it, I won that one too. The team now had two victories and they were both won by the only guy using a bar stick; everyone else had their own cues. (After the game I heard the guy from game #2 tell game #3 guy that he couldn’t make fun of him since I had beaten him too.)

Four pitchers must be the magic number because when my fourth game came up I was on pitcher number five. The fourth game didn’t go that well mainly due to a mental mistake on my part. I was standing there with ball-in-hand and four balls on the table (compared to his one) and made a bad decision. I can only see two shots in so I can plan on what to do with four balls. I ended up losing and that wrapped up the night.

All in all the pool league night was pretty fun. I got to go to a new bar and meet some new people. Even though I probably won’t play with the team again this fall I might have to tag along just for the fun of it. Who knows, maybe someone might accidentally break a finger or something (oops, did I just step on your hand?).