There’s only one stripe left on the table now; six solids; and the eight ball.  I’m solids.  Yippee.

The worst thing is I haven’t even had a turn yet.  My opponent – call him Minnesota, and why not? – has dropped a string of six balls since the break.  Seven if you count the one he dropped on the break.

A good break splays the balls across the table, making the shooter’s job easier. Too many balls near too few pockets make the game messy.  A better break will drop a ball or two.  My opponent spread the balls nicely, and he dropped a solid.

“Nice break,” I say.  It’s a gentlemen’s sport, I suppose, or as much as any sport can be whose main tools are essentially sticks and stones.

Now, if I had dropped a solid on the break, I would have tried to shoot the solids.  I mean: there’s already one in the hole (duh!). But Minnesota here knows that in pool you don’t take the shortest path.  You take the most predictable.  It might not be quick and it might not be simple, but he’ll choose what he can plan over the easy shots any day of the week.  This is his day.  And the stripes start dropping like my geometry grades.

Eleven ball in the corner; nine in this side; thirteen off one rail and back to that side; twelve in the far corner; ten in the side; and fourteen in the opposite corner.  He’s got me down by five now – six if he hadn’t knocked in one of my balls on the break!

But even Minnesota can’t plan for everything.  Seems he gave that last shot a little more back spin than he wanted and now his fifteen is blocked behind my four.

“Good defense,” he says.  I’ll take what I can get, but we both know I had nothing to do with it.  It’s a gentlemen’s game, remember?  He surveys the table, then points with his cue for emphasis and says, “I’ll try banking two rails – fifteen in the corner.”

The cue ball goes exactly where he aimed it. (HINT: It always does).  Lucky for me his aim was off; and it’s my turn at last.

I remember playing pool when I was in junior high.  The clubhouse in our housing development had a couple pay tables.  At 50-cents a rack pool was one of the least expensive, pre-Nintendo distractions for me and my friends. I think Pong had been invented by then, but really… Pong?

I never was very skilled at pool as a kid.  The idea of anticipating the next shot eluded me completely.  Unfortunately, that’s about 90% of the game.  Slamming the ball home from the opposite end of the table sure looked good, but if the cue ball speeds off to who-knows-where then you better hope you have a clear shot at something.

Picking up the game again at 45 (that’s six-and-a-half in dog years) has been instructive.  With what I hope is a more mature eye, I know that the easiest ways are not always the most profitable. And with enough planning and patience I might just run the table on Minnesota one day.

[He’s not talking about pool anymore is he?  No I don’t think so.]

“I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.” (Ecclesiastes 9:11).

God has promised these two things common to all men: time and chance.  For what?  Well… for the race; the battle; the bread; riches; favor… take your pick. Of course, Solomon ends his entire discourse with “the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep His commandments: for this is the whole duty of man,” (Ecclesiastes 12:13).  And now we understand what our time is for; and why He is the God of second chances, and third chances, ad infinitum.

Too often we think of a “second chance” as something we get when we’ve messed up.  Take a clue from Minnesota and look at it as the opportunity that comes only from properly using your first chance! Believe me, I’m glad for the grace of God that allows me to get up and try again if I fail (again and again).  But how much better is it when we get the first shot just right, and set up the next shot as a bonus?

Solomon also said, “be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day long.  For surely there is an end; and thy expectation [read “anticipation”] shall not be cut off.” (Proverbs 23:17-18). So there is an end. We all get time and chance, but how much and how many? The best we can do is get to anticipating our next move.  The eight ball is going down one day and there is an end.

So, I chalk up my stick like I know what I’m doing.  I don’t, but I’ve got half a dozen “opportunities” waiting.

“Three in the side,” I say.  And I’m talking here to the three ball, not my opponent.  But the three is having none of that and teeters at edge of the pocket, taunting me.  Meanwhile the cue ball caroms off to situate itself perfectly for Minnesota’s next shot.

“Fifteen in the side,” he commands.  The ball obeys.

“Eight in the corner.” His word is law. Game over.

Boy, it’s fun having this instructional tool in the company break room.  Once in while I even win.  But the chance to learn something is worth the time either way.  Now if only I could learn something about shooting pool.