In Omaha I bought a cue.

I'd spent Thursday night playing with either my friend Mike's old Predator or Awesome Larry's Meucci.

Believe it or not I liked the Meucci better. It delivered a very solid hit and very little squirt.

On Friday I found myself at Alkar's and bought myself a Predator Sneaky Pete, hoping that it would help my 8-ball suckiness.

It didn't.

My trip to Omaha was quite an eye-opener.

I've been saying for years that my 8-ball game has gotten pretty horrible, though subconsciously I didn't really believe it.

Now I believe it.

I got my ass kicked by people that, in the past, would have not had a chance against me.

Some may disagree (though not if they're being honest) but I was once one of the very best bar table 8-ball players in the Omaha area. I was certainly the best player in the local APA league. My records in my social play, my league play, and my tournament play all back up that statement.

Boy things have sure changed.

I really suck now.

I think the small tables messed me up more than the strange cue and the lack of pattern recognition did, but all three factors contributed to my suckiness.

I probably shouldn't care. It's not like I ever play bar table 8-ball anymore. I played more games in the last few days than I've played in the previous five years.

But I do care. It's pretty humbling to drop so far while people you used to beat handily remained the same or even improved.

Maybe I'll buy a 7-foot table and practice on it.

Yeah, that's the ticket.