It was a long, but overall good weekend, mostly. And I say mostly simply because of the mouse that Monster ran in with Sunday evening. The little guy survived, screaming all the way and is now hiding/taking refuge in the laundry room. We did our best to pull him/her out, taking a page from what I did last time with the mixing bowl. But the mouse got somewhere under/in the washing machine and I can’t say that I blame them. Hopefully the humane trap will help and if not, I know there are 4 cats in this house. I’ll just leave it at that.
But I did tell Andy, as we were propping up with washing machine in search of Monster’s “friend” that the cat door would need to be removed. He agreed. Somewhere the mouse did as well.
Moving on! Saturday ended up being very long, but through a festivus miracle, our Team advanced and made it to Sunday morning. Actually – I shouldn’t say it in that way. Our Team played really well, worked really hard and had some great matches. I was so impressed with my teammates and how they handled the pressure of the play-offs. It’s a talented bunch and I genuinely enjoy all of them, good players and kind people. Cha-Cha’s cake was a highlight, filled with a yummy lemon flavored sponge and raspberry icing, a perfect summertime combo. Even the British Baking show people would be impressed!
My second match of the day went about as well as the first, except that I got mad. The team that we played had some (in my opinion) very questionable moral practices. I get the shit talking and muttering under your breath – it’s pool and the playoffs and not everyone is going to be supportive or kind. Whatever – if that’s what it takes for your team to “win”, that’s just not how I roll. Don’t get me wrong – when I raced (triathlon, rowing, running) I was aggressive and competitive, but never unkind. And I finished 2nd at the 70.3 Triathlon World Championships – so you can be good and a decent sportsperson at the same time. I digress.
Anyway, this team choose to have a very strong player participate in the minimum number of regular league matches (4) needed for him to be on the roster during the play-offs; if this individual played on a regular basis in league, they would likely be ranged much higher – but since they have so few league games under their belt, they aren’t. I hope this makes sense, but that’s what I gathered yesterday while talking with a few folks after my match. And that sucks. And it sucks when you’re the one playing against this person. My second match was like my first – my opponent jumped out 14-0 against me and I wanted to cry. But since the right side of my tongue was mostly bitten from earlier, I settled on the left.
I played and bit back tears, blood once again in my mouth. Andy gave me a time-out at one point, to help coach me through a move – and I totally scratched on the Q Ball. Oh well. It happens. Two shots later, my opponent missed on the 9 ball and I had to think my way through what to do. I didn’t want to scratch (again), or leave him an easy shot on the 9, so I decided to put as much distance between the 9 ball and the Q ball. That’s when the comment happened, from the guy with the confederate flag on his head.
“She could use that time out now.” And then he chuckled, laughing meanly under his breath. Then he repeated it, making sure I heard.
I seethed. And I stopped biting my tongue.
I managed to do what I wanted, placing the Q ball at one end of the table, the 9 ball near the rail on the other. I walked back to my team and said, don’t fucking tell me what I need, along with a few other choice words that were mostly 4-lettered and coherent. And I got mad. Maybe it was that terrible flag on that asshole’s head (by the way, newsflash – you lost). Maybe I was tired of the antics and digs of this team. Or maybe I was just pissed off at the situation. Likely all three. But my opponent missed and I ended up pocketing the 9-ball. And as I did, I looked up and smirked. It felt good, a tiny piece of me fighting and fighting back against people who don’t do right.
In the end, I still lost and later, I did cry about it. But it felt good to get angry, to recognize the situation sucked, the other team were full of terrible people, but to still show up and play – be there for my team, even with my measly 3 points. My teammates were really supportive and I appreciated their kind words. In the end, I was happy when we pummeled them and won. I want to believe that the good guys always win, even though I know its not always the case. But for a beautiful moment Saturday evening, we had prevailed and all was well.
Sunday morning came too quickly, but I was only 10 minutes late. I’ll be honest – my puffy eyes took a bit of work, salty tears will do that. We played a great team – Running with Scissors – and ended up loosing. But they are good people, the sort that I would hang out with anyway, sharing a post-match brew or laughing around a fire pit, the light of a thousand fireflies flickering through the trees. We wished them luck in the semi-finals – and that was it, our 9-Ball Team’s quest for the APA World Championships in Vegas was over.
So Andy and I went home, dozed briefly on the couch and decided to have a low-key Sunday date. Blue Ghost brewery was perfect, with plenty of open spaces (outside and in) and a terrific hazy double IPA on tap. Mountains-To-Sea (named after one of the trails I hike!) paired perfectly with the German food truck menu and I loved my giant pretzel. We played a terrible but wonderful game of Dirty Minds, laughing and joking the entire time. It was fun and I felt good.
Sunday evening was low key for us, until the whole Monster/mouse debacle. Our kitchen/laundry remains like this. Monster, at least, is still curious, the mouse less so.
I’m feeling good, for the most part. Definitely tired after so much time at Fat Cats over the weekend, and grateful for my compression socks – sitting on various bar stools for 18 hours would have rendered my legs swollen and boat-like otherwise, cankles at best. My scalp felt really great with my new shampoo/conditioner, Aveda’s “Cherry Almond” (not Cherry Bark), working well with my dry skin. And my rosacea continues to remain in check with the help of my compound medication. I’ve got a bit of a stuffy nose – still – but I also spent 18 hours in a pool hall, so there you go. I’m grateful that North Carolina doesn’t allow smoking in buildings.
And that’s it! I hope you had a wonderful weekend and thanks for reading!