Connor practiced hard in the weeks to come. He won a couple of the weekly 9 ball tournaments and booked a few winners playing some small sets with his regular clientele of players. The Reno Open was only a few weeks away, and he was determined to be as ready as he could be.
the backyard for a cigarette and a beer. He told his son to come out because he wanted to talk to him. Connor sat there in silence while his dad smoked. Finally, Tom said that he would be driving a company truck for a while and handed Connor the keys to his own truck. He then handed him two hundred dollars in twenties The Reno Open was held twice and a quarter. Tom told Connor a year at the Sands Regency not to tell his mother about the Hotel & Casino in Reno, Nevada, money and that he was to keep 4 hours north and just over the the quarter on him at all times. California-Nevada state line. Now Connor chuckled and asked if it that Connor had turned eighteen was a lucky quarter or something. years old, he could finally attend. Tom said no. He told Connor He had heard from the older guys that if he ever found himself in at the pool room what a great a position where he needed his tournament this was. Many of dad, to find a payphone and call. the professional players and all of No matter where he was in this the top guys from the West Coast world, he would come running. He would be there. Two weeks before then said, “You are my son; if we the Open, Connor asked his boss don’t have each other, we don…”. at The Human Bean if he could Connor finished by saying, “We take some time off to go. He was don’t have anything.” This was told no. something they had said to each other for years. Overwhelmed After a faint knock on his door, with his dad’s love and support, Connor’s mom, Irma, entered his Connor went to his room and room. She saw him packing his cried. duffel bag and asked if he was going somewhere. He told her The next morning, Connor about the tournament and that he loaded up the truck. Along with wanted to see just where he stood his bag and cues, he loaded up as a pool player. His mom asked an air mattress and pump, a how he was going to get there and pillow, some blankets, and an if he had enough money. He said ice chest with a few drinks and he was okay with money, which he some snacks. Irma handed him a would have said if he had none at fifty-dollar bill and said, “Don’t all, and that was going to drive. tell your father.” She hugged him Her two-word response sounded and told him to be safe and to call more like concern than a question home once in a while to let them when she said, “Your car?” know how he was doing. She then asked about his job. He smiled That night at dinner, before and told her that he didn’t work Connor could bring it up, his dad there anymore. asked him about the tournament. Connor’s parents knew how Before Connor pulled out, he much he loved to play pool, and told his mom that he was going although neither one of them had to stop in Sacramento for a few ever seen him play, they supported days before heading up to Reno their son fully and wanted to and that he would call in a few see him succeed. After dinner, hours once he got there. He was Connor’s dad, Tom, went out to less than a half mile from his
house when he let out a shouting, screaming, excited noise that sounded like it was straight out of the Dukes of Hazard or something. He had a bankroll of a little over twelve hundred dollars, a good truck with a camper shell, and all the hopes and dreams a young man headed out to the open road could possibly have. He was northbound on the highway and on his way to a poolroom that was known as one of the greatest action rooms in the country. His nine-ball game had yet to be tested outside of his hometown. In his local pool room, he was one of the big guys, but was he just a big fish in a small pond? Could he keep up with the big boys? Was he a real player or just another wannabe? He was determined to find out one way or another. Almost three hours to the minute from leaving his home, he found himself in the back parking lot at The Great American Billiards. Although he had never before been there, he had heard many stories about this place and couldn’t wait to get inside just to look around and see what it was all about. As he approached the door, his heart raced with nervous excitement. He stopped to take a deep breath and said to himself, “Here we go,” as he reached for the door. Well, folks, you are going to have to tune in next month to see how our young road player fares swimming in this sea of sharks. As always, I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read my work, and I sure hope you enjoy the story. Your continued support for SPM magazine is greatly appreciated, and until next month, folks, stay safe out there, and keep that cue ball rollin. SPM BILLIARDS MAGAZINE
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