Shooting Pool

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The Christmas Eve celebration turned when Sam decided that he wanted to shoot pool on the table where my brothers, father and a lot of friends played years and years before.

I recall the celebration the night before John's wedding when the 8-ball contest turned into a pool hockey game where we fired the balls at the pockets and tried to score. The other team played defense using only their hands, which sounds brutal enough, but the fun started if a ball left the table and you could tackle to try and gain possession.

That game never really caught on!

Well, the teams were set. Jake and Uncle Chuck against me and Sam.

Thank God they weren't filming it!

I played a lot of pool in college as we had a table set in a room that was too small to accommodate. We broke the front window of that place at least ten times as we tried to shoot. (Remember George).

Sam and Jake didn't actually even know how to hold the stick, but while Chuck was teaching Jake a little, I was stuck just listening to Sam peddle his trash.

(The kid can really talk a helluva' game).

We won the first game when Chuck, who had made nearly every ball that hit a pocket, scratched on the 8-ball.

"Rack 'em, losers!" I shouted, feeling as if I were back in college for a moment.

During game two I found that I couldn't hit the long shots, but the real fun came as I tried to break. Chuck's hands were close to the rack and I tried to hammer the ball and scare him as he was pulling the rack away.

I miscued.

Two games later, the roles were reversed.

In an effort to vacate quickly I picked up the rack and swung my head up...

...straight into the light.

Sam laughed for a half an hour.

In the end, the boys started making shots.

I started to hit the long shots.

And...

...listen very carefully, Chuck...

...We whipped their asses...

3 games to 2!

I think ESPN is gonna' run the tape back one of these nights.

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