The Deep End

Today I went to a meeting of the University pool club at a local pool hall. Thank goodness I've been practicing on the JCR tables--what I've called "silly" and "small" they call "English pool." It's not the sized-down bar entertainment I took it for initially. Essentially, it's harder than "American pool." Because the balls are smaller, there is less to work with. Remember how pool works: You don't just try to hit the one ball with the other ball; you aim for a point on the target ball. Here, the target is smaller.

My original plan for joining this club was to have them show me where I could find a "real" pool table. That's obviously not what happened.

There were eight other guys, most of whom brought their own cues (in cases of unusual length). They were all very good. So here I was, a) an American and b) a new kid, playing a game I thought I knew by new rules, and with new equipment. For the first several games, I felt like I had just been thrown in the water and forgot I could swim. We played sets of three, and I lost the first two sets 2-1 and the third 3-0. Yikes. This, after days of handily beating the Americans in the JCR.

But my main worry at the outset was that I would really, really stink. And I did. So once I didn't have to worry about that anymore, I loosened up and improved considerably, winning a few sets. We played for three hours. I think I'm twice as good at English pool now. And I hope I get an email about next week's session.