I’ll never forget the day in 2009. It was a thursday afternoon, and class was canceled for the day. I met my best friend daniel at a small bar in the back of a liquor store in columbia, south carolina. It was a tiny place, only two cruddy six foot boxes in it, but they were free. It was a dollar to rent a stick, they were all warped to varying degrees except for two. One was a fifteen ounce stick, the other 20oz. I would always pick up the 15oz stick; I was really the only one who ever asked for it.
I’d often come to this small place to play for hours, and there were a lot of good back room shots. But one day, a new face walked in. He had a black hat with a feather in it, a trench coat, and he was dressed rather nice for a bar like this. We already had a five man rotation system going, but he asked if he could get in on a game. He had his own cue with him, but it wasn’t exactly fancy. My friend leaned over to me and whispered “be careful with this guy.” I asked if I had to worry about losing my fingers if I won. “No,” my friend said, “this guy is a three time regional champion.” My blood got a little cold. It had been a very long time since I’d played anyone with an official billiards record, about six years in fact. But I steeled myself and was determined if I had to go down, it would be swinging.
Half an hour later, I had beaten this man three sets in a row, and he laughed and said he had had enough for one day. I had held my own, and often not let him up out of his chair. He then proceeded to watch and take stock of the people in the room. I don’t know if what my friend said was true, and if it was if the man simply wanted to make me feel good. But on that day, I decided deep down that I would become even more serious about pool, and would practice even more and harder. It was one of the first moments I felt I could really play with anyone, and to this day I still use that memory as motivation in my quest to become one of America’s top pool players.