It seemed so simple
at first glance
40 years ago. Three balls –
today, a white, a red, a yellow –
unnumbered, each larger
than a pocket-pool ball, and heavier.
Back then I gazed across
a huge green field of tightly-woven wool
stretched tight across a table
that was pocketless.
Back then I watched, mesmerized:
the balls rolled
in unforeseen straight lines
and ricochets – or, if masse’d,
in startling curves
made by the force the billiard cue
and you impart to them,
maintaining their pre-ordained
intelligence,
their speed
and spin
and elegance.
the balls rolled
in unforeseen straight lines
and ricochets – or, if masse’d,
in startling curves
made by the force the billiard cue
and you impart to them,
maintaining their pre-ordained
intelligence,
their speed
and spin
and elegance.
* * * * *
How to describe this strange world
to a stranger? In person
one can demonstrate
the common tracks and angles,
the more- and less-difficult shots,
the fickleness of cushions...
to a stranger? In person
one can demonstrate
the common tracks and angles,
the more- and less-difficult shots,
the fickleness of cushions...
...and quickly one begins to grasp
the infinite possibilities
of failure and success.
the infinite possibilities
of failure and success.
* * * * *
Three-cushion billiards is a different breed,
with altogether different DNA.
The balls don’t disappear down rabbit holes
when a point is scored.
This game is more akin
to planetary motions,
with bigger and littler bangs,
slower and faster rotations –
more akin to
poetry,
in that the tiniest effects
are monumental
and move the heart
in ways not evident.
with altogether different DNA.
The balls don’t disappear down rabbit holes
when a point is scored.
This game is more akin
to planetary motions,
with bigger and littler bangs,
slower and faster rotations –
more akin to
poetry,
in that the tiniest effects
are monumental
and move the heart
in ways not evident.
* * * * *
Three-cushion billiards is a game
in which you try, and try again,
to actualize prediction.
Easier said than done,
given that the end result
is frequently unknown.
in which you try, and try again,
to actualize prediction.
Easier said than done,
given that the end result
is frequently unknown.
* * * * *
The brain, some scientists say,
is a dreaming machine,
returning, night after day, for fodder.
Three-cushion billiards demonstrates
that we are optimistic creatures –
match after match,
week after week,
year after year –
wired for those tastes of mundane joy
and for those scars of minor agonies,
which make us human.
is a dreaming machine,
returning, night after day, for fodder.
Three-cushion billiards demonstrates
that we are optimistic creatures –
match after match,
week after week,
year after year –
wired for those tastes of mundane joy
and for those scars of minor agonies,
which make us human.
– Jack Litewka
Poet, management consultant, and 3-C player
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jack Litewka is a 3-cushion duffer. In addition to that hopeless and ever-intriguing past-time, he is a management consultant, doting grandfather, poet, and basketball gym rat (still playing full-court b-ball three times a week). Jack and his wife enjoy international travel, and Jack tries to attend the Verhoeven open every summer in New York City.