Growing up I was surrounded by stray billiards equipment. However, a table was nowhere to be found, and my family definitely couldn’t afford one, so my skills were never developed.
Thankfully I made it to college, where every residence hall has a place to play pool. Not to mention the game room inside the student center. With a couple of more experienced friends by my side I was educated on the game.
I’ve had a few hits, and literal misses, but I can now express my growing love for pool. As the summer winds down I get excited at the thought of school. I’ll study of course, but my heart will also lie between a cue stick and the billiards table.
– Katelyn Avery
121 words
There’s a pool table in an upstairs lounge at my mother’s senior residence. I’ve never been able to play even respectably myself, but watching my 87-year-old mother hunker down for a shot—that’s worth a fortune. Good luck with your new semester!
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Thanks. And I fully support elderly folk getting their game on.
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During the years between Korean War & that Vietnam one–the military draft on–my husband got called & was stationed at NYC, Long Island, for two years. I remained in Oklahoma, expect’n a baby. My Army allotment check always came on time, but ’twas barely sustainable. So, when I pleaded for more, he went into action. Plenty of pool halls both on & off base, plenty of wannabe hustlers, but my SgtJack had struck his first cue stick at an early age back in Oklahoma, where hustlers were born, then groomed for better. He had four older brothers sharin’ that role. He was right-handed, but held the stick & played with his left quite strongly & ably. Well, actually superbly. No hustler took him, no one else did either. During those two years, I practically lived in the lap of luxury on the merits & wages of cue sticks & had good money in the bank when he returned to me & our 4-month-old daughter in Oklahoma. Cue sticks should not be taken up lightly & can grow on one, indeed.
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