Pool Stories

Whenever my father - inlaw, is in town we tend to talk about football (soccer), politics and playing pool. Indeed the opportunity to play pool is never passed up since neither of us play that much the rest of the year, though we'd like to. Though I suspect he practices furiously in the dim bars of Benidorm, Spain in the few weeks before he comes here - he never admits it though. Every year, we talk up our chances - and head off to some of the shadiest bars we can find in Southern Maine. If I said dead animal heads hang on the walls, and fittings that have been on the end of someones anger - you may get the picture.

So we have played twice so far, and well it hasn't been good for me - even if my father inlaw is 83 and tired from travelling - when he has a pool cue in his hands, then suddenly he isn't tired and the years drop off him. Last night was my chance, first game he was visibly yawning and I won the first game. This was it - I'd rack up an impressive lead then let him win a few games as the night wore on. I promptly loss the next six games - and only won one game when he potted the black early. I had to embarrasingly take that game as a win, since that set him off on another run which didn't stop until I had my best game and potted the black before he had his chance. I think our two pool sessions were 10-2 and 8-3, and I think his long experience may play a part! I look forward to next year still though, and I'm sworn to avenge these reverses!