At The Pool - Pretend You're a Ballplayer
When I'm shooting pool, I'll come right out and say that I'm trying to think like Jack Cust or I'll keep it to myself, secretly taking on his persona. I'm usually behind, and that's where most people start to panic. Not Jack Cust, who's got easy control, a good eye and doesn't let striking out bother him too much. Jack's a great guy to be when you're playing pool, but right now I feel like Chavez.
I blew my back out - no big deal, but I thought it'd be good to take a water aerobics class at the gym this week instead of watching games in the cardio room with my buddies. There's a window above the pool that all the people coming in pass. The after work crowd, for the most part are hot and dedicated to their routines. Now, having a pulled back muscle hurts, but being the only person in the pool under 70 years old -- and knowing that hot people are watching you is excruciating.
At first, I was blocking it out, focusing on how great it felt to move without my back hurting. I was next to two nice ladies who let me take the deeper end since I'm pretty much taller than everyone over 65. Then we started doing these underwater punches that splashed all over the place; in our eyes, our mouths, getting the ladies next to me excited. They started shouting about how tough they were and how they're going to kick some ***. "Whooo!" "Whooo!" they echoed in the pool. Others joined in and people walking by the window stopped to see what everyone in the pool was shouting about.
That's when I started thinking about Eric Chavez being hurt all season and how everyone's busting his chops about it and how frustrating it must be for him to watch the A's get swept by the Royals (the Royals? the Kansas City Royals? Really? That happened?). Just like all the people watching the old people and me bouncing around in the pool, everyone's watching Chavez and no one's giving him a break. That's when I decided to become Chavez and play it cool, share some laughs with the ladies, and focus on improvement.
Pretending to be Jack Cust has never really helped my game, but you should see my Cust impression -- it's really good. I walk to an open corner in the bar and say, "Okay, okay, I'm in left field" and then I just look around with the expression of a puppy.
And I'm definitely not ever going to another water aerobics class at my broke *** gym again. But I'm also going to think twice before photoshopping pictures of Chavez in a wheelchair anymore -- and that's all I can do as a down-trodden A's fan.
I blew my back out - no big deal, but I thought it'd be good to take a water aerobics class at the gym this week instead of watching games in the cardio room with my buddies. There's a window above the pool that all the people coming in pass. The after work crowd, for the most part are hot and dedicated to their routines. Now, having a pulled back muscle hurts, but being the only person in the pool under 70 years old -- and knowing that hot people are watching you is excruciating.
At first, I was blocking it out, focusing on how great it felt to move without my back hurting. I was next to two nice ladies who let me take the deeper end since I'm pretty much taller than everyone over 65. Then we started doing these underwater punches that splashed all over the place; in our eyes, our mouths, getting the ladies next to me excited. They started shouting about how tough they were and how they're going to kick some ***. "Whooo!" "Whooo!" they echoed in the pool. Others joined in and people walking by the window stopped to see what everyone in the pool was shouting about.
That's when I started thinking about Eric Chavez being hurt all season and how everyone's busting his chops about it and how frustrating it must be for him to watch the A's get swept by the Royals (the Royals? the Kansas City Royals? Really? That happened?). Just like all the people watching the old people and me bouncing around in the pool, everyone's watching Chavez and no one's giving him a break. That's when I decided to become Chavez and play it cool, share some laughs with the ladies, and focus on improvement.
Pretending to be Jack Cust has never really helped my game, but you should see my Cust impression -- it's really good. I walk to an open corner in the bar and say, "Okay, okay, I'm in left field" and then I just look around with the expression of a puppy.
And I'm definitely not ever going to another water aerobics class at my broke *** gym again. But I'm also going to think twice before photoshopping pictures of Chavez in a wheelchair anymore -- and that's all I can do as a down-trodden A's fan.
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