Spent the entire day yesterday practicing 9-Ball, in a fruitless attempt to make up for several years of practice lack.

What I did was play God races to seven. I won seven matches and lost seven matches. My victories were almost all narrow ones, and my losses were almost all blowouts.

My prediction for the DCC 9-Ball, which starts today, is that I will shoot well, but it will be my breaks that kill me. I'm making a ball on the break about 25% of the time, and I'm getting shape on the one about 25% of those times. This is simply not good enough, and even if I never miss a shot otherwise, this poor breaking performance will be my downfall.

Watched the last several matches of the Banks on the TV table. If you buy any accustats tapes you just might see me sitting off to the breaker's left.

The banking was very impressive, but I actually thought people were being a little too aggressive. Perhaps this can be blamed on Jason Miller proving last year that all-out offense can win the whole thing. In the end, though, David Matlock's slightly more contained impatience won him the tournament.

It turns out that my second-round opponent knows Bugs Rucker, so I got myself an introduction. This was the first time I'd ever even seen Bugs, and to actually meet him was really an honor.

...I'm not updating this thing with Derby City Classic entries the way I'd planned.

I've just been to damn tired by the time I get home, plus I've known that I'd have to get up early again.

Tomorrow should be better because once the Banks wraps up I'll be able to sleep in Tuesday morning.

So I'm out of the Banks. I once again won two matches and then lost two matches. One round out of the money. Oh well.

I have a problem with third round draws. In 2003 it was Charlie Bryant. I won that match. In 2004 it was Truman Hogue, and I lost.

This year my third round opponent was Louis DeMarco.

I need to make some more entries once I get my mental notes together, and once I diagram out some shots, but I'll list a few points here:

1. I banked eight in a row, tying my own high run in competition, against my second round opponent, a gentleman from West Virginia I think. I shot extremely well and would have won easily even without the high run.

2. My third round match started with my execution of a very nice run of five banks to win the first game. After that the match was a blur of Louis making banks and me racking. I guess I woke him up or something. Actually I missed a shot that would have put me up 2-1 with me breaking. A shot I really should have made. I'll diagram it later. I shot very well against Louis, but he's a fucking great player and he beat me.

3. My fourth match - well, in my fourth match I sucked the proverbial donkey dick. I simply could not adjust to the table banking short, and by the time I did start to adjust it was too late. I lost 3-0. I am not blaming the table for my loss. I should have been able to adjust, but I didn't do it in time. What I will say though is that if I'd played my fourth round opponent on a table that banked like the tables I played my first three matches on I would have just killed the guy. I have zero doubt of that.

4. Larry Nevel is just destroying everyone. Efren Reyes 3-0 and Truman Hogue 3-0 just to name two of his victims. Sometime over the next couple of days I'll diagram the out that Larry put on Truman to win that match. Had everyone on the room gasping at both the audacity and the execution. I don't know how that guy walks around with cojones like that. (Update: I've put Larry's out on the End Game Banks page.)

5. I bit the bullet and paid my entry for the nine ball that starts on Wednesday. If I win a match I'll be happily surprised.

I guess that's it for now.

Played my first (and, as it turned out after ten hours of uncertainty, only) match on Friday against a local Louisille player. Actually it was the guy checking badges of people trying to enter the room.

I won 3-1, shooting pretty well.

I certainly plan to provide more information than this on my match, and on some of the matches I watched, but right now I'm just too damn tired.

I finished my match at 3:00, then at 12:30 AM they told us that we had the night off but to show up at 9:00.

Of course all that pressure to sleep had just the opposite effect on me - I was awake until at least 3:00 AM.

I'd say that the non-competition surprise of the day for me was easily won by my friend Bob from when I was stationed in Omaha. I was waiting in line to get my ID badge printed and there he was, just walking by. Hadn't seen him in 14 years, and really hadn't seen much of him in the couple of years prior to that as he got a little strange there towards the end of his Omaha stay.

Very cool to see him though.

Also saw a few people from my RSB days, notably Fred Agnir, who's all famous now so I can use his full name.

Well I'm off to the tournament for my second match, probably at 10:00. This looks to be another very long day, but it's pool, and I love it.

(This is a reminder to myself to write about the shot that Shannon Daulton missed. The shot that nobody in the world will ever make. The shot that Shannon missed by about half a you-know-what hair.)

Yesterday my cousin Mike and I played quite a few games of banks while waiting for my foyer paint to dry.

At first the humidity was really affecting me and I didn't play very well at all, but the second session went a lot better. I ran quite a few fours on him, and maybe a few fives.

It was nice of Mike to humor me by playing banks - a game he's never played - so I could continue my pre-DCC warmup.

Later in the night I watched the 24 season premiere in the basement so I could keep practicing. At around 9:00 I could have beaten anyone who dared to enter my basement. Makeable banks were simply not being missed, and quite a few iffy banks were going in as well.

When I'd first started playing yesterday I was pretty concerned that my four-day illness (and the resulting lack of practice) may have done a lot of damage to my game. Luckily I was able to regain my speed control and adjust to the wet conditions.

I guess that's it. Bring 'em on.

Some of you already know the story of my brief escape from the world of the mortal player and into the realm of the pool gods, but for those who don't here's a synopsis.

On Valentine's Day, 2001, I lost my job. About ten minutes later my sister came over to tell me she'd found a lump in her breast. For the next two days, in an attempt to keep my mind off those things, I played pool. To be more specific, I didn't miss for two days. I was just awesome. Then I lost it, and I spent the better part of the next three years trying to get it back. My game fell back to that of a raw beginner, so strong was my focus on this singular goal.

Most of my (failed) attempts to get back that prolonged dead-stroke focused on the physical. I'd detected, but failed to really notice, a slight adjustment to my right arm, and I spent an awful lot of time trying to find that magic placement again.

It never worked.

One other thing about those magical two days, though, was my mental state. I was experiencing a combination of depression and anxiety, with a lack of sleep thrown into the mix. This was something I was certainly aware of, all those times I sought to regain my lost magic, but I couldn't really generate a mood on demand, could I?

Now those of you who venture over to read my regular 'blog know that I've had some turmoil in my life over the past few months that, on the surface at least, seems a lot like what I experienced back in 2001. I've had depression. I've certainly had anxiety. I may have set new records for lack of sleep.

On most occasions these factors were just too strong to be any kind of a catalyst for my game, but every now and then, like flipping a switch, everything would just fall into place. On those occasions when I was able to force my mind to forget about my troubles, and focus on the table and the shot in front of me, I simply could not miss.

Actually, similar things have happened to me in the past, though to a much lesser degree. My divorce was not only one of the best things that ever happened to me, it was also one of the best things the ever happened to my game. When my father died I didn't pick up a cue for weeks, but once I did, I shot pretty damn well.

I'm sure I could think of more examples. I've certainly had enough turmoil.

What I'm thinking - and this may be obvious, is that by forcing my mind away from unpleasant thoughts, I'm essentially forcing it towards the game.

It's when my mind's internal ramblings become unbearable enough for me to shut them down, but not so powerful that I can't shut them down, that's when my game goes up a notch.

It would certainly be nice to be able to focus exclusively on the shot-at-hand whenever I wanted to, but unfortunately I seem to need a little help in that department.

I'll have to work on it some more.