There's no book so bad that something good may not be found in it.
-- Cervantes
I seem to find myself in places where a decent game of pool is virtually impossible so I have to resort to other strategies to maintain my interest and minor skill set in this highly addictive sport. Last year I lived in Naples, Italy, where the game of choice is bocce ball on something that looks like a snooker table. Now I am living in southern Utah in a county twice the size of Rhode Island without a single stoplight, bar or library; or pool venue. In the two ranch homes where I have been invited to play pool I made the cardinal mistake of winning several games before realizing that I had just eliminated any possibility of being asked back. I practice alone on a 1961 Gold Crown snooker table I re-felted myself.
Three books in particular, purportedly devoted to "the mental game," seemed suited to my insular circumstances this year: Bob Fancher's Pleasures of Small Motions, Phil Capelle's A Mind For Pool and Max Eberle's Zen Pool. Of these three books only Bob Fancher's is, what I would call, with unabashed academic snobbery, a fully professional treatise, that is well written, painstakingly edited and professionally printed.
An excellent player from Portland named Bob Zack recommended Fancher's book to me several years ago so I was particularly excited to read it. Zack was able to discern that I am a self-punitive, impatient, perfectionist when I play pool (my nine ball game remains a paragon of mediocrity). Pleasures of Small Motions (I still do not understand the use of the plural in this title) is largely about appreciating one of the most salient reasons we play this game: to use a beautifully hand-crafted piece of athletic equipment to make two or three balls do astonishing things on a piece of homogeneous metamorphic rock covered with some elegant green cloth. Although this seems to state the obvious, it is a very important thing to always be cognizant of (like when we are behind three games in a race to seven) no less than the reasons for why we climb mountains, wrestle, throw darts, shoot arrows and play the piano. We play a Mozart sonata for the beauty of the sound, the harmony of notes weaving a cherished melody. I suppose at some time we may "compete" with our "interpretation" of Mozart but the main thing always is a love of music being played on a fine instrument. Although he does not say so exactly, the import of Dr. Fancher's remarks also suggests that we forget about fame, fortune and world renown; those spots are taken by 15 year old prodigies from developing countries. First and foremost on a pool table, is the play with beautiful equipment and endless possibilities regulated by the laws of physics.
After the "play", when we start to think we might have some talent at this game, when we begin to compete seriously, then the psychology kicks in; the demons of guilt, insecurity, self-esteem and anger raise their hideous heads. I guarantee that in every single pool room across the country you will find the same assortment of stalwart, solid "players"…and then the miscellaneous woebegones, whiners and bullies. Why does one guy hang his head and skulk back to his chair while another shrugs his shoulders and smiles when they each miss a shot? Why does one guy talk trash and the other sit stoically in his chair? Why do so many people insist on playing for money? Why is there still violence associated with this game? (In the Meucci warranty caveat they say, and some cues are even broken over somebody's head in a fight.) These are elements of "the mental game" which are only addressed satisfactorily by the combination of Fancher's and Capelle's books. Let's not kid ourselves: "the mental game" and anger (rage, frustration, guilt) are virtually one and the same in pool. I don't think Dr. Fancher ever uses the word anger (or rage or fury) in his book.
Mountaineering is apt for this discussion because of the love aspect. We do not get angry and stop loving a mountain if we fail to reach the summit. We just love being in the mountains. And, by the same token we should love the pleasure of small athletic motions as we hit balls around on a big table whether we win or lose. This is one of the very good things in Pleasures of Small Motions; emphasizing again and again this qualitative, fine-motor-skill thing about pool, the very basic reason why we love this activity. This aspect of pool is illustrated in the hours and hours all good players devote to practice and drills. Over and over they work at sinking every ball without touching a rail or jumping and jumping until they can clear a ball two inches away or banking and banking until they can kick anywhere on the table. This is testimony to the pleasure we get from perfecting small motions. This is indeed, a very large reason why we play pool.
