"My Tuesday night APA team talked me into playing with three of them against a team out of [city withheld]. We played at the City Bar in Tre... [rest of town name withheld]. It was like going back to the '60s!
A redneck bar with pool balls so dirty, you had to look close to tell the 8-ball from the 4-ball or the 2-ball! Very challenging conditions! I lost my match to a player who slopped about 25 of the 38 shots he made! How sad that we have to drive all those miles just to play in (lousy) league competition."
Has this sort of thing happened to you, dear reader? Have you suffered on a pilgrimage to APA pool perdition? (Although, perhaps, we can hardly blame the APA teams for choosing neutral ground in an awful, unkempt poolroom "from evil lane...".
