Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Stick's Night Out

Escaping the working world to a smoke-filled pool hall has its benefits. Away from the naggings of licensor approvals and schedule wrangling one is free to revel the pastime for what it is. Inside the walls of a selected dive is found a calm seclusion where all that matters is if you're going ratchet up some style points by banking the 8. Even if you don't there's little ado. It's not just the weight of your daily obligations that's lifted when you find that groove, the subtle weight of your cue seems to vanish as you enter the dead zone-- it melts into your stroke, even your walk around the table, taking a brief nap from being an inanimate object to a fleeting dream of being an extension of your very arm. It's a magic time in the game, when shots are easier than they deserve to be and an almost careless bravado takes up residence to remind you how to enjoy your time instead of just spending it.

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