thank you QVNNY

November 2015
« May    

• 2013 Majors

BCAPL National 8-Ball Championships
Rio All-Suite Las Vegas Hotel and Casino
Las Vegas, NV
first time at the Rio (adios Riviera) and things get epic
Hard Times 10-Ball Open
Hard Times Billiards
Bellflower, CA
just a lil pre-Vegas warm up tournament
West Coast Challenge
$4,000 added One Pocket
$10,000 added 10-Ball
California Billiard Club
Mountain View, CA
last event at this location before they close (sadface)
Cole Dickson Memorial 9-Ball
Family Billiards
San Francisco, CA
for legendary road player Cole Dickson
Pots 'N' Pans Memorial 9-Ball
Pool Sharks
Las Vegas, NV
celebrating hustler Bernard Rogoff, better known as "Pots 'N' Pans"
TAR35 | Dennis Orcollo vs Shane Van Boening
TAR Studio
Las Vegas, NV
second and third days
TAR33 | Francisco Bustamante vs Alex Pagulayan
TAR Studio
Las Vegas, NV
second (1P) and part of third (10B) day
TAR32 | Ronnie Alcano vs Jayson Shaw
TAR Studio
Las Vegas, NV
GREAT match • Andy Mercer Memorial 9-Ball Tournament coverage
Chet Itow Memorial 9-Ball
California Billiards Club
Mountain View, CA
drank too much to do good coverage, but here it is, anyway
Jay Swanson Memorial 9-Ball
Hard Times Billiards
Bellflower, CA
let Robocop show you how to run a six-pack, Citizen
TAR31 | Mike Dechaine vs Shane Van Boening
TAR Studio
Las Vegas, NV
TAR30 | Darren Appleton vs Shane Van Boening
TAR Studio
Las Vegas, NV
the boys are back in town
» Huidji See
» Donny Mills
the best kind of New Year's Sandwich
that's not okay
you know that I'm no good
on being a reasonable human being with realistic expectations
instasham series
stories from the distant and slightly-less-distant past
the only people for me are the mad ones
questions, tournaments, bets, running 26.2 miles


The Action Report
purveyor of fine challenge matches between highly-skilled players of note
Cue Times Billiard News
Colorado's best resource for all things pool-related
Jack Justis Cases
the choice of champions
Sugartree Customs
made by Eric "Slower Than Snails" Crisp, if and when he feels like it
Tucker Cue Works
"If you feel the need to ask me how your cue is progressing every week then maybe there is a better choice of cuemakers out there for you."
Kurzweils' Country Meats
yes, meat



chalk the chalk


I had forgotten the chill of waiting for the bus early on a Saturday morning. I had forgotten the stamping of feet, the craning of necks, and the rising panic that unites silent strangers when the bus does not appear at its scheduled time. I had forgotten the existence of real relief until the bus rolled up and we all smiled at each other and felt we were all going to make it.

I had forgotten the peace of walking the last mile through sleeping neighborhoods.

I had forgotten my neurosis automatically factored in an early arrival time. I had forgotten how much I liked fast food sandwiches with their questionably fluorescent “egg” and chewy “sausage patty” the color and texture of scorched earth. I had forgotten that iced mochas, crowned lavishly with whipped cream, would swagger past my blood-brain barrier and paralyze my eyelids with too much wakefulness and now being an hour too early for practice was total bullshit and there was nothing to do but shake, shimmy, and jitter until the doors opened.

I had forgotten how dark poolrooms could be, and when I looked around for a trash can for my empty coffee cup (which I had conscientiously not wanted to toss on the ground outside like so many others) and the man behind the counter yelled angrily, “NO OUTSIDE FOOD!” and I yelled peevishly back, “I’M JUST LOOKING FOR A TRASH CAN, DAMMIT!”, I found I had forgotten every poolroom was a suspicious, heavily fortified city unto itself, and everyone not a regular was a threat to homeland security until enough consistent, non-threatening interaction conferred a wary and conditional citizenship.

I had forgotten dealing with me was rather like that as well.

I had forgotten there were people I liked and missed. I had forgotten it was easy to tell I was not a pool player because I wore knee-high stiletto boots. I had forgotten I should have put on unwashed gym clothes and camouflage face paint and then just stayed home.

I had forgotten there was a little bar a hundred meters away from the increasingly claustrophobic poolroom. I had forgotten how much I liked vodka, Kahlua, and cream topped with a giant dollop of rumor mill coffee grounds.

I had forgotten how excessively inconsistent this thing called my “game” could be. I had forgotten how often I missed ball-in-hand. I had forgotten the last time I played a big-table tournament. I had forgotten I was short. I had forgotten the closest I could come to the exhilaration of driving a fast car without a speed limit was letting the cue ball run six rails and still get position. I had forgotten some men will not move aside for me when it is my turn to shoot. I had forgotten some men playing a neighboring match will sit on the rail of my table during my match while they consider their shot. I had forgotten how much that shit makes my eye twitch.


I had forgotten I had willingly paid ninety significant dollars for this douchebag safari.


I had forgotten how great it is to play an opponent as serious as I am. I had forgotten how this is a game like no other in the world, a game of millimeters, and that one millimeter between frozen and not-frozen is immeasurable light-years of difference. I had forgotten how redeeming it is to kick out of two-foul jail. I had forgotten how calm I could be looking at a long bank to make it hill-hill and I had forgotten how electrically sharp the pins and needles in my fingertips could be when I made it. I had forgotten what it was like to laugh in apologetic disbelief. I had forgotten how it was like to lose hill-hill because I chose a safe over a shot and scratched instead. I had forgotten how useless, yet oddly satisfying it was to tell that treacherous, rat-bastard of a cue ball to go fuck itself.

I had forgotten what it was like to fail but not be defined by failure.

I had forgotten how it was like to lose a whole day and win a whole lot of nothing. I had forgotten that bus service is reduced on the weekend. I had forgotten there are nice people who will drop me off on their own way home. I had forgotten the unmatched feeling of finally getting into bed after a long day on my feet and right before I rolled off into the abyss of sleep, I found I had forgotten the last time I was this tired and still looked forward to doing it all again.



The race was on.

Continue reading motivation

to escapism

I can’t remember if I’ve written about the great (literally and figuratively) trees we have out here on the west coast. We don’t have the colorful plumage the Northeast has with its fall colors, so we have to make up for that in size. I guess you could say we are overcompensating a bit, since our most famous trees are the Coastal Redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) and the Giant Sequoia (Sequoiadendron giganteum).

Continue reading to escapism

music and warm bodies

Mission San Francisco de Asís, or Mission Dolores, is the oldest surviving structure in San Francisco and the sixth religious settlement established as part of the California chain of missions (there are 21 total). The Mission was founded on June 29, 1776, by Lieutenant José Joaquin Moraga and Father Francisco Palóu (a companion of Father Junipero Serra), both members of the de Anza Expedition, which had been charged with bringing Spanish settlers to Alta (upper) California, and evangelizing the local Natives, the Ohlone.

Continue reading music and warm bodies


If there had been no one else in that pool hall he would have tried to kill me.

Continue reading damages

podcast: you know that I’m no good

listen to my rant “you know I’m no good” in colorful sound with much colorful language // sponsored by Heath Willard

Continue reading podcast: you know that I’m no good

this is what happens when I drink a lot at a tournament

Continue reading this is what happens when I drink a lot at a tournament