I talked briefly about this in my Feb. 21, 2004 tournament post.
Two things happened at the tournament to bend my mind towards the topic. Firstly, before the first match even started, my opponent decided who the winner was. Second, I got fed up with how things were going halfway through my fourth match, and instead of giving up, I dug in decided how things were going to turn out. While I didn’t go as far as I wanted, and wasn’t able to maintain the level of concentration enough to pull out a first place finish, I did (re)learn a valuable lesson:
Imagine something to be so, and it will be. Imagine it to not be so, and it won’t be.
It really is that simple.
My opponent in the first match, on seeing that he had to make eight 9’s to my four, decided that he couldn’t do it. Right then and there, before I’d even hit my first ball, he decided how things would turn out. He let his doubt get the best of him, and it undermined his concentration and confidence to the point that his was a self fulfilling prophesy. I’ve done the very same thing, over and over again, in just about every tournament I’ve participated. Oddly enough, the results were the same for me as they were for him. I lost, over and over again. Watching him was in no small way looking in a mirror, and I didn’t at all like what I saw.
One of my previous visits to Terry’s, a friend of mine by the name of Prasad shut me out in an even race to 6. He ran all over me. I didn’t make but maybe 4 balls in all six racks, and it wasn’t for lack of opportunities. He later told me that prior to the game he’d decided that he was going to beat me, and furthermore spoke it aloud to another friend of ours. He felt it, he believed it, and he knew it, and in knowing, he did it. Without anywhere near that level of focus and determination, I stood no chance whatsoever.
In my fourth match last night, after losing my third to a lesser player, I came to the same place. I made an extremely difficult two rail kick into a side pocket only to watch the cue ball carom off two other balls into the other side. That was the last straw. I told myself right then and there that I was going to win. I felt it, I believed it, I knew it, and in knowing, I did it.
I was able to maintain that determination through the rest of that match, and three others before I let it go. My final opponent disarmed me by being such a nice guy. Instead of seeing him as an enemy who needed to be crushed, I saw him as a fellow player who deserved to win just as much, if not more than I did. I do that too much. I’ve been told I’m a healer by nature (which is why I got a bachelors in Social Welfare), and I’ve spent far too much table time empathizing and sympathizing with my opponents. I’ve felt sorry for them when they miss, putting myself in their shoes by allowing myself to feel what I imagine they must be feeling. I did that with my final opponent last night. I relaxed at the end, had just enough lapses in concentration, and ended up getting third, rather than first place. Understand that I’m not putting that out there as an excuse, it’s simply what happened. I can either decide to learn from it, or dwell on it. Care to wager which way I’ll go?
My opponent from the first match, wherever he is, is probably still dwelling on it. He may very well be an Ace level player in terms of shot making ability, but until he decides to stop whining and decides to win, he’ll never get any better. The same most definitely goes for me (aside from being an Ace level player, that is). Whenever I get frustrated, discouraged and don’t see any way out, I’ve got to ask myself whether I want to leave the table a quitter, or whether I want to leave the table knowing I gave it my absolute best shot. I can either step aside and let my opponent win, or I can make him or her fight for every single pot. I won’t win every time, but at least I’ll never lose.
