Skirting the Edges of Burnout

I haven't been very prolific on the blog the past few weeks. The "glory" of becoming a SL5 has been somewhat faded by hardships in my professional life. Indeed, it's been very slow for me in the photography world lately. And so there I was in my doldrums a couple weeks ago, sitting in the undergound bar that is Josie Woods, waiting to play in my first-ever APA singles qualifier, worrying about missing phone calls due to the poor signal reception and wondering what reason on Earth did I have for coughing up the $15 entry fee. I guilted myself into thinking, "Do I really need to be here? Couldn't this $15 be spent on something more important?" Long story short, I got whupped 0-4 by another SL5. I just couldn't find my tempo on the table. I played what I thought was a pretty good first game, repeatedly finding my way out of the safeties my opponent had thrown at me and my one remaining ball (the 5). But the adrenaline only took me so far before my opponent finally got ball in hand on me. I lost my momentum and my grip on the crucial first game. Conveniently, I was able to shrug it off as "Colorado Rockies Syndrome." But what made it sting more is some players I know had shown up specifically to watch me play.

It was somewhat of an uphill slog getting my confidence back. I wasn't able to make it to league night the following Tuesday, so it was four or five days before I ended up playing again. What I had really wanted to do was play a couple times in total silence and solitude. But I had to settle for the rec center over on Pitt Street. Now, at the rec center there are two tables. I am more than happy to play on what I call the "junior table." But the other table, I'll call it the "main table," is where all the big machismo action takes place. The thing with playing on the main table is that if you lose you can spend as long as a half hour waiting to get back on. That's because many of the players over on the main table insist on playing last pocket (aka "purgatory pool"). And they just love it when there are four or five people watching, all waiting to take on the winner. I, on the other hand, relish playing on the junior table, where even if you lose there's nobody waiting to play next so you get to keep playing. Even if it means taking on weaker players, I'll stay on the junior table simply for the amount of uninterrupted practice time I get to put in. I was there on Saturday and played an old man who appears to be just learning the game. I played him easily 10-12 games of 8ball, and I won them all. I also played some teenagers I had never seen before. Part of the machismo of playing at the rec is the number of "continuous breaks" you get. But with this man I played, I insisted every few games that I rack the balls and let him take a turn breaking. After playing for three hours straight, I felt I had gotten back into stroke. My arms felt good and sore.