Shooting some pool

Recently, one of my friends (henceforth known as fatboy) from the UK came over to HK for a quick holiday. If the name sounds familiar, its because he was the one who challenged me to a game of badminton via the comments section on this blog.

Despite his challenge, fatboy showed up in HK without any badminton kit and without any prior warning of when exactly he would be in HK. This basically meant that we were unable to book a court. Anyway, even if we did play, the challenge would have been meaningless as I'm sure that, come the moment of my inevitable victory, the sneaky git would have used the excuse of not having his normal kit!

So, instead of playing badminton, we ended up shooting some pool.

The last time I played fatboy at pool was when I was still seconded to the UK. At the time, the result was inconclusive primarily because the table was crap as we were in a bar/arcade. This was really annoying as, from watching him play, I was pretty sure I was better - the problem was that I just couldn't get any results due to crappy equipment! This time, I made sure we went to a proper snooker club with decent tables and decent cues.

Despite fatboy winning the first game, I could tell straight away that I was better than he was. And sure enough, I won the majority of the following games. I wasn't actually keeping score but according to fatboy, I was up by 4-2 at one point. Unfortunately, after a couple of games, I started to lose interest.

What can I say? I have always preferred snooker to pool as snooker seems to give more tactical options. So after playing pool for a couple of games, I started to watch other people playing snooker and my concentration drifted. As anyone who plays snooker (or pool) will tell you - concentration is crucial to playing well.

With my concentration down the drain, fatboy took full advantage and pulled the score back to 5-5. We were on even terms again. His come from behind challenge was almost complete - he only needed 1 more frame to pull ahead of me and snatch a famous victory from the jaws of defeat. Unfortunately (for him), fatboy make a critical and fatal mistake.

Just before we started the last frame, he turned to me and said "Last frame - this will decide the winner of the HK-UK Pool championship!".

The change was as sudden as it was startling. Gone was your friendly neighborhood jokemeister. Instead, where he had been standing just moments before, was the competitive jerkwad.

The challenge had been laid. The gauntlet thrown down with force. With renewed vigor, I started the final frame.

Getting a lucky pot on the break, I proceeded to pot another four balls with some good close control shots. Unfortunately, the 6th ball rattled in the corner pocket and bounced back out. Fatboy's turn at the table and he managed a couple of pots before missing. My turn again - all I needed were another 2 pots followed by the black.

Luckily for me, the ball that rattled in the corner pocket was just over the pocket and easy to pot. Unfortunately, fatboy had left the cue ball straight on and the 7th ball I needed was tight on the cushion next to the 6th ball. Normally, in snooker, I would have just hit the shot with backspin and tried to cut in the 7th ball. However, this is pool - and pool tables have bigger pockets.

Hitting the cue ball hard (which I rarely do due to the loss of accuracy) with a small amount of backspin , I hit the 6th ball slightly off center. The bigger pockets on the pool table meant that the ball still went in (to be honest, it would have taken a monumental cockup to miss that pot). However, the strength of the shot plus the angle was enough to take the cue ball off the cushion and cannon into the 7th ball thus knocking it off the cushion. This set me up perfectly to pot the 7th ball.

However, the black ball was also tight against the cushion near the middle pocket. Not an easy pot. Putting a small amount of sidespin onto the cue ball (the sidespin helps to keep the black tight against the cushion), I tapped it gently and the black started to roll gently down the cushion.

Motionless, I watched as the black ball trickled up to the pocket before wavering on the lip of the corner pocket. And then, with a gentle sigh, it finally dropped in. With fatboy just managing one visit to the table in the final frame, I absolutely annihilated him (and it felt good!).

Final score: 6-5.
The competitive jerkwad wins.