Conquering Obstacles (Part 40--Pool)

With my inability to participate in any sport that involved running or strenuous physical activity, I chose to learn how to play pool while in college. I spent hundreds of hours practicing because if I were to do this, I wanted to be the best I could possibly be. Sherry, my friend who wore full-length leg braces, became my partner in crime.

 

Every weekend night the two of us found ourselves hitting the local establishments searching out the pool tables. With most tables being used, we would have to "challenge" the winner in order to play. Our strategy was to allow our male opponents to win at least the first game, perhaps the second, depending on our mood and how good they actually were.

 

Our main purpose of playing was to win and to hold the table in order to shoot pool for free while the challengers fed their quarters into the table. Sometimes we would play for a drink, but never would we play for money. More often than not, our opponents would try to distract us by chatting and asking rather personal questions. Sherry was absolutely the best when it came to shutting down the invasion of privacy.  When asked about her braces, she had a vast number of responses, but my all-time favorite was, "I used to be a professional downhill skier until I hit a tree." That normally would leave our opponents somewhat speechless.

 

While dealing with my personal problems, I found solace by joining a women's pool league in Billings. It wasn't long before my team partner Shirley and I were ranked at the top of the league for the highest percentage of wins. Year after year we held that position and became the "target."

 

Even after starting my teaching career, I continued to play on the league, living less than an hour from Billings. Normally the men's and women's leagues did not play at the same establishment at the same time, but one night, both teams were playing in Molt, Montana, about 10 miles outside the city.

 

My team was in an extremely close match, and Shirley and I were playing the last game which would determine the winner. As I concentrated and lined up my "do or die" eight-ball shot, I heard someone literally yell, "HEY TEACH! Don't miss it!"

 

Moving nothing but my eyes, I glanced upward to see what "jerk" was trying to distract me. He, too, was in the midst of leaning over the table preparing to make a shot, and I thought to myself, "I'm going to punch his lights out if I miss this eight-ball."

 

To be continued...