Pity Party
It has been said that the road to recovery begins when a person is willing to admit that they have a problem. If that is true, then I guess I’d better get started. Here goes: “Hello, my name is Michael, and I have a problem.” You see, I recently decided to throw myself a party…a pity party. Let’s start at the beginning.
Over the years my friends have often referred to me as “The Million Hobby Man.” It’s a moniker rightfully earned, I must admit, due to my incessant habit of starting and subsequently discarding a new hobby every six months or so. Since my hobbies have such a short half life, over the years I have participated in literally dozens of hobbies. Recently, just for fun, I decided to make a list of all the hobbies that I’ve started and subsequently discarded since I was a child. Fear not dear reader, I’m not going to share the list with you, but trust me when I tell you that the resulting list was truly frightening. After reviewing the list I realized (not surprisingly) that in almost all cases once a hobby gets discarded, it just sits and gathers dust, never again to see the light of day. But there was one exception to this rule: Billiards. For some reason, the game formerly reserved only for Royalty seems to have staying power with me.
About a month ago I picked up a copy of Daniel Coyle’s book The Talent Code, and I was so mesmerized by the concepts Daniel presented that I couldn’t put the book down. Many of the concepts presented in the book rang true to me, and I couldn’t put the book down until I had read it cover to cover. It inspired me to set out on a new journey. I tossed the book aside and ran to my proverbial closet of forgotten hobbies. I yanked the door open and stood on my tip toes, craning my neck searching through the pile of dusty discarded hobbies in an attempt to locate one that I could use as a test bed for Daniel’s concepts. Out popped the game of pool. After many years of tinkering with the game, studying books and VHS tapes (Yikes! Am I dating myself?), I finally made the decision to stick with something. I want to become a professional pool player.
If you review my posts from the last thirty days, you will see that the first month of my new journey has been filled with energy and excitement. Then I had one bad day and the train derailed (see my last post). I’ve been licking my wounds and sulking for a week. Why do I do this? Why is it that we (you see, I’m trying to include you as part of my problem too!) tend to be our own greatest critics? Yes, the doubters, including myself, are legion. As I sit here sipping my early morning coffee and eating a piece of pecan pie for breakfast, I’m starting to feel a little better. They say that time heals, and I guess a week of sulking should be enough for me. It’s time to recharge the batteries, as I have a long journey ahead. So my plan for today is to not play any pool. I’m going to sneak into Edgie’s Billiards during my lunch break, grab a table in the corner, and focus on my fundamentals: Stance, Bridge, and Stroke. It’s time to get serious, start building myelin, and make sure I build it in the right places. The honeymoon is over, and I’ve got serious work to do.
Angle of Reflection 