| Report
from Lee
The Arrival
The first major
pool event of the LSE's second season started off somewhat disappointingly,
when we arrived in Liverpool to discover that our absurdly cheap
(£12 a night) b&b was flooded the night before. Fortunately
the b&b owners had a spare house and let us stay there for the
weekend. Just a shame this house was about 10 miles away, near the
delightfully stabby town of Bootle.
The Dubious Decision
Determined to
remain positive prior to the championship, we decided to make the
most of our situation and have a pleasant evening of sing-songs
and stories. At about 1.30am, someone suggested it might be an idea
to get some booze, but given that we were in the middle of nowhere,
this seemed a lost cause. Then, half-jokingly, I suggested that
there exist some businesses which offer alcohol delivery services
in London, and that perhaps there might be an equivalent service
in Liverpool. Phil got on the case and soon we found ourselves ordering
booze over the phone, which was very nearly thwarted due to Yibo's
spectacularly unnecessary pretentiousness which resulted in the
guy slamming the phone down (see quotes to the right for details).
Alvin came to the rescue and by 2am we had a crate of 24 beers and
a ton of vodka delivered straight to our door. Result! You know,
notwithstanding the whole having to wake up early for a national
sporting event the following morning...
The hours passed,
alcohol was consumed, songs were sung, jokes were made, arm-wrestles
took place, speed press-up challenges ensued (with Dan 'Bouncy Headbutt'
Steene winning with 20 press-ups in 12 seconds), all of which were
intertwined with regular episodes of Alvin dry-humping Phil in the
double bed. By 6am, the decision was made (by the hardcore among
us - Martin, Jerrold and t'Morton actually got some sleep...) to
stay awake and go straight to the club. It seemed a genius plan
at the time.
FFFUUUUUU-
Stumbling, slurring,
head-pounding and stomach-churning our way to Rileys made us think
that perhaps a good night's sleep might have been a more sensible
choice. Yibo could barely stand and his normally articulate yuppie
accent had deteriorated into unintelligible gibberish. I decided
the best course of action was to sit motionless for 3 hours with
my head in my hands and try not to vomit. Thankfully the schedule
was massively delayed and the extra 2 hours, and extra 4 nurofen,
meant I was not feeling like death by the time my first match started.
By that time, things weren't looking too good for the LSE. Only
Alpesh and Alvin had made it past the 1st round... Things started
looking up however as Alpesh got through to the last 64, as did
Martin. I then began my campaign in the last 64 stage (I was seeded
no.3 for the championship :D) which started pretty badly, going
down 3-1, but luck was on my side and I ended up winning 5-3. Martin
then destroyed the Cardiff 1st team captain 5-0, beginning what
was to be an incredible run of form for the Blond Bomber over the
weekend.
Team
Championship: EPIC FAIL
All 3 LSE teams
ended up being knocked out at the group stages. The 2nd and 3rd
teams failed to win a single game, although the 3rds put up a great
performance, narrowly losing to last year's finalists Essex 1sts.
The 1st team started off positively with a crushing victory over
Edge Hill 2nds (Lee 5-1, Martin 5-1, Alpesh 4-1). We were then drawn
against York 1sts, who were clearly the strongest team at the championship
- as proven by the fact they won the title. With Mike Walsh, Luke
Fleet and new 9-ball specialist Fotis Demousis, on paper we expected
to be demolished. Martin played some superb pool to defeat Luke
Fleet (eventual finalist in the individual championship) 5-4, and
by that point both myself and Alpesh were down 4-0. Then suddenly
things started to go our way - Alpesh came back to 4-3 and I came
back to 4-4 against Fotis who suddenly started choking despite his
obvious superiority with a cue. At 4-4, with a chance to get the
biggest scalp of LSE's pool history, I was left with a straightforward
5-ball clearance. I underhit one shot but was still ok, but desperate
to avoid the in-off I Englished the ball towards the centre pocket
to keep the white on line - I put so much throw on the object ball
however that I ended up overcutting it. Oh
dear.
The result of
this loss was that, rather than having a guaranteed route to the
main championship, we'd have to play Cardiff 1sts to have any hope
of remaining in the competition. Martin once again played brilliantly,
in fact he had a 100% 4/4 record for the team all weekend (with
a 71% team frame win stat compared with Alpesh's 57% and Lee's 53%!)
which, considering our Group of Death (4 first teams in one group?
wtf??!?!), was an incredible performance. I played badly and lost
5-3, but fortunately Alpesh was up 4-3. Alpesh had a fantastic run,
clearing every ball after the break, displaying superb cueball control.
He landed perfectly on the 9. This pot would get us through the
group. I crossed my fingers, temporarily eschewed my atheism, and
prayed to any and every god that he wouldn't choke the
way he did at Yarmouth last year. Sadly, as befitting a player
whose shirt bore the nickname 'Chokey McBlack', he choked. Oopsie.
Out of the team
event, our only hope for any kind of glory rested with myself and
Martin who were still in the individual championship. Martin didn't
play badly at all in his last 32 match but the York guy he was up
against played top quality percentage pool and barely gave Martin
a chance. In my last 32 game I was up against The Hindu Hitman of
Manchester, who last year destroyed me in the BUCS
Snooker Championship. Things weren't looking great as I was
down 3-1, and it didn't help that he had the loudest university
pool supporting team after Ulster on his side. Frankly the positive
comments got a bit silly, as no matter what he did, even when he
ran out of position, we heard cries of "That's it lad, perfect!".
At one point he 100% snookered himself and a teammate shouted "great
shot, keep it up mate!". Erm,
huh? Fortunately for me, I suddenly found some form and played
my best pool of the entire weekend and won 4 frames in a row, beginning
with a long-distance jump shot, which even had the Manchester guys
clapping. They were probably just on E actually now I think about
it, superbly jolly bunch they were :)
My last 16 match
was to be against one of the Bristol 1st team, who claims to have
run-out 7 (seven) consecutive 9-ball racks before. That's an unbelievable
achievement. Truly unbelievable. No seriously, it's not believable.
I guess he wasn't on that kind of form against me, and I ended up
winning pretty comfortably, which got me through to the quarter
finals and thankfully justified my seeding in the tournament :)
This good run
ended for me however when I found I was drawn against Luke Fleet
in the quarter final. I beat Luke last year in the last 16 thanks
to some well-timed flukes. Sadly this year I didn't get that many
nice rolls, which, combined with the fact that I messed up several
opportunities, plus the whole he's way better than me anyway problem,
I lost 5-2. Luke ended up in the final playing BUCS legend Rich
Wharton, who played easily his best pool when it mattered, i.e.
in the final, to win 5-1.
Conclusion:
FFFUUUU-
Onwards and
upwards - Yarmouth is our next stop in February for the 8-ball championships.
Probably best we avoid an all-night booze-up before the first day
this time. Plus I'm going to apply for a budget extension from the
AU to get Alpesh hypnotised to stop choking.
|
|
Top
quotes from the Weekend
1. There's
a time and a place for pretentiousness. This isn't it.
Yibo
(on the phone to dial-a-booze or whatever it was): "Hi, we'd
like to make an order for delivery please. So what drinks do you
have?
Booze Delivery Guy: *muffled scouse noise*
Yibo: "Ok, how about spirits?"
Booze Delivery Guy: *more muffled scouse noise*
Yibo: "Wine? Ya, well, hmmm, wine, it's not
really a spirit now is it..."
Booze Delivery Guy: *click*
2. You
didn't need to provide that much detail
Lee:
"Can I get a sausage baguette please?"
Rileys Girl: "No, you can't order fewd till
eightz o'cloch lyche"
Lee: "Oh right-"
Rileys Girl (pointing to large white sore on her
lip): "I can't cookh see, I've got heerpees"
3. Almost...
Alvin:
"I almost beat Aqeel with my left hand earlier!!!"
Lee: "Almost? So, er, you lost then?"
4. Time
Management
Drunk
B&B guy, several dozen times every night:
"So what time are you leaving / waking up / getting ready /
have to be there tomorrow?*
5. Bit
of a stretch
Yibo:
"Alvin, get your head out of Phil's dick!"
___________________________________
The Players
1st
Team
Alpesh, Martin (C), Lee
2nd
Team Yibo, Dan (C), Alvin
3rd
Team
Rob, Phil (C), Jerrold
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