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smfsrca
12-02-2002, 04:52 PM
"All thoughts of mechanics aside and my apologies for the un-skilled attempt at prose hear, but this is what I see and feel when I shoot the nine ball in the corner pocket and this is why I play."

High above the shining spheres he stood.
With soles of his shoes frozen to the floral pattern of the woolen floor.
The length of is tall stature wavering ever so slightly.
Rocking, first to the left, then to the right, barely perceptible.
Movements like an inverted pendulum nearing the end of its life.
Then, suddenly the whole of the structure would shift
in one direction or another reseating itself
only to repeat the delicate dance once again
until the pendulum is still and time is frozen in that moment of truth.
His piercing eyes descending
along the invisible beam emanating from the brilliant white sphere.
With the fore of his arm moving in and out
searching for exact synchronization with the unseen bridge of light. Forward…Pause…Back, Forward…Pause…Back, Pause…
forward on into infinity, propelling the shining white source of light into the future, irretrievable, now at the mercy of circumstance and physics.
The silent beam of light swallowed up by the thundering sound of the colliding spheres and the burst of a white and yellow tracer destined for it’s own oblivion, gaping invitingly in one corner of it’s gentle green universe.

Steve in CA

Perk
12-03-2002, 06:30 AM
Wow..and i am trying to clear my thoughts when i shoot the 9!

Alfie
12-03-2002, 06:37 AM
<blockquote><font class="small">Quote smfsrca:</font><hr> High above the shining spheres he stood.
With soles of his shoes frozen to the floral pattern of the woolen floor.
The length of is tall stature wavering ever so slightly.
Rocking, first to the left, then to the right, barely perceptible.
Movements like an inverted pendulum nearing the end of its life.
Then, suddenly the whole of the structure would shift
in one direction or another reseating itself
only to repeat the delicate dance once again
until the pendulum is still and time is frozen in that moment of truth.
His piercing eyes descending
along the invisible beam emanating from the brilliant white sphere.
With the fore of his arm moving in and out
searching for exact synchronization with the unseen bridge of light. Forward…Pause…Back, Forward…Pause…Back, Pause…
forward on into infinity, propelling the shining white source of light into the future, irretrievable, now at the mercy of circumstance and physics.
The silent beam of light swallowed up by the thundering sound of the colliding spheres and the burst of a white and yellow tracer destined for it’s own oblivion, gaping invitingly in one corner of it’s gentle green universe. <hr /></blockquote> Suddenly I have a yen for cantaloupe.

Leviathan
12-03-2002, 06:48 AM
Steve:

Thanks for giving us 9-Ball, Corner Pocket . Different people play pool for different reasons; they find different satisfactions in playing pool; they experience the game in different ways. Your essay is effective because it expresses the intensity of your involvement in the game. You give each of us a reason to examine his or her own experience of the game.

Don't apologize for the quality of your writing. If you have something to say, and say it honestly, your writing will be worth reading. To improve your writing technique, you have to study and practice--it's just like improving your pool. I hope you'll do more writing; you have talent, and we need good writers.

Duke Mantee

smfsrca
12-03-2002, 02:01 PM
Thanks for your words of encouragement.
We can write and talk as much as we want about the details of stance, grip, stroke, bridge, etc. We can describe various shots ad infinitum. The true essence of the game is in the feel. So, how do you describe in words what you feel when you play. Especially, when you play well. The feel of the game is how each of us experiences the game. It is unteachable, it resists description, it is the stuff of poets.
Steve