Well, I've just arrived back at the hotel after my very first match at my first ever US Open. I'm happy to report that it was a successful encounter. I played an American by the name of Deamon Dawson (yes, pronounced "Demon"!), a nice guy, who was also at his first US Open. I went to sleep early last night, and for some reason woke at 4am. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I lay in bed watching rubbish TV until 6am, and decided to get up and have a shower. I figured by the time my 11 o'clock game came around, it would effectively be late afternoon/early evening and this would be a typical time for me to be playing pool back home. I went downstairs and had breakfast, with plenty of time to kill. I made up my mind to go down to the venue when it opened at 8am for some solo practice, and achieved the result I was after. I spent just over an hour, practicing banks, kicks, long shots, safeties, break shots, jumps, and shots with the rest (mechanical bridge). In the end I felt pretty comfortable with the speed of the cloth, and the reaction of the cushions, and felt that I'd put myself in every possible situation that I could face come match-time.

After coming back to the hotel round 9:30am, I rested for a short while, before we hopped on the bike again and headed to the venue. I got to my assigned table with a little over half an hour before my match, and spent a bit of time building my confidence by shooting only shots that I knew I could make. I was aware that my opponent was watching me, and so I wanted to freak him out with how easy I made it look. In hindsight, this was a perfect ploy. It turns out that he'd found out last night who he was scheduled to play, and jumped on the internet to find out what he could about me. He was already giving me way too much credit, and when he saw me slotting balls in practice, I think he'd made up his mind that I was the better player. Of course this is completely the wrong thing to do, and it would have just made him more nervous.

We began the match with the customary lag (to decide who breaks first) and he pipped me by less than an inch. He didn't make a ball off the break, and I ran out. I broke and ran the second frame, and by then my nerves had almost completely disappeared. From then, I played some really solid pool, putting him in tight safeties if I couldn't clear in my first visit to the table, and playing some really creative position play to keep the pressure on him. I was really happy with the way I banked the balls as well, and the hour or so I'd put in earlier in the day was paying dividends. I hardly made any errors as I kept racking up the frame wins. When I did give him an opening in the sixth or seventh frame, I think he was a bit demoralised, and let me off the hook. I made it eight to nil, before he pinched his first frame with some nice shots, beginning with a jump. I'd say by this stage he'd accepted the fact that he wasn't going to win, and it seemed to release the pressure, and allowed him to play freely. I cleared the next frame after a wicked combination shot, pocketing the 5-ball off the seven at an absurd angle, and really felt in the zone. The balls didn't spread well in the next frame, so I had to tie him up until my opportunity to clear came, and I almost got him on three fouls (which would be loss of frame), but I ended up winning that frame the conventional way by potting out. So at 10-1 up, I was breaking for the match. I got out of position a couple of times through underestimating the speed, but knuckled down and kept potting. I left myself a tough nine-ball for the match and missed it. Bugger! He took that chance, and moved another frame closer. He broke and ran to the 4-ball in the next frame and seemed to tighten up on it, missing it by quite a margin, and I told myself this was it. I kept my focus, and ran the rest of the balls to finish him off 11-2.

It was very pleasing to play that well in my debut match, and on the #1 table as well (very close to the crowd). I've got a few things to work on in my mind over the next 24 hours or so, but I'm happy with where I'm at at the moment. I'm more than likely playing Earl "The Pearl" Strickland tomorrow, unless he's upset by his unseeded opponent, and the match will be at 1pm. I'm gonna go back to the venue now to watch a couple of matches, then back to the hotel for tea, and I'll probably sit down with Tim and watch the RedSox take on the Indians beginning at 7pm. I may have to be Tim's coach as he is very emotional about the Red Sox.

It's been an awesome adventure so far, and I've got a feeling it's only just begun :-)

Hello everybody from the 32nd Annual US Open 9-Ball Championships, day three.

Today I played my second match of the tournament, against Hall of Famer, five-time US Open Champion, and six-time World 9-Ball Champion, Earl "The Pearl" Strickland. Earl is almost as famous for his antics around the table as he is for his incredible play, and you've just got to type his name in to a search engine to find out what I'm talking about. (YouTube has some perfect examples) I am glad Tim set me up to play in the Houston Open as I ran into one of these fellows and handled him pretty good.

The match began under slightly unusual circumstances, due to the fact that the previous game on table #7 had gone way over time. We are normally allowed onto the table half an hour before the official start time, to practice and get ourselves ready for battle. But this time we only had enough time for three or four practice shots each. My normal pre-game ritual had to be drastically shortened, and it left me feeling a little under prepared.

I over-hit my lag shot by a long way, allowing Earl the first break of the match. He struck this opening break beautifully, but the balls didn't land nicely for him, so he proceeded to lock me up behind the 8-ball. I attempted a difficult two-rail kick shot, bridging over the 8-ball, and missed the 1-ball by a pretty big margin. This gave him ball-in-hand, and he cleared the table with effortless ease to take the first frame. His next break shot was a "dry break", meaning he didn't sink any balls, and I strode to the table for my first clear shot at a ball.

I felt some pretty intense pressure, as I tried to block out the fact that I was playing one of the legends of modern pool. I took my time over each shot, and managed to scramble my way to the 9-ball, to draw the score level at 1-1. Breathing seemed difficult, as I struggled for oxygen as if I'd already gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. The third frame saw me play my first break shot of the match, but I ended up sitting in my seat as quickly as I'd left it, as the balls went agonizingly close to dropping, but all ten (including the cue ball) remained on the green baize surface. Earl pocketed the 1-ball, and snookered me behind the 2, leaving a choice between another two-rail kick and a jump shot. I elected to play the latter and successfully hit the ball, but not as I'd planned, and I got a wee bit lucky in not leaving it in a pottable position. He began talking to his support crew who were sitting in the front row, about things I'd prefer not to hear. Something about how people who play jump shots are cheats, cos he believes it takes all the skill out of the game. He's publically commented many times in the past, that jump shots are too easy, and that a "real" pool player should know all the angles and kick at hidden balls. I understand his reasoning to a point, but rules are rules. He then tried a pretty rash safety, but left it on, and I breathed my way through the rack, constantly telling myself reassuring thoughts, as I took the lead for the first time.

Unfortunately, this lead was to be short-lived as Earl showed his class by running out off my second dry break. He then broke and ran the fifth frame to post a 3-2 advantage. After allowing me back to the table in the next, I played a good kick safety, and forced him into a kick shot escape. He connected with the ball, but left it where I could play an attacking shot, and I composed myself enough to begin running out. I over hit the cue ball midway during that run-out, and nervously attempted a bank shot. Normally, this is one of my strengths, but I had less than 100% conviction on this shot, and allowed him back to the table for an easy finish. Or so I thought. He played the 8 way too hard and left himself a tricky cut on the 9, which he missed, but unluckily for me it wobbled to the short rail side of the pocket, and the cue ball went way down to the far end of the table. There was no way of me getting safe out of this situation, I simply had to have a go at a short-angled one-rail kick shot to try and pot it. Well, I picked the right spot on the side rail to hit, but my arm tightened up as I struck the cue ball, and missed the connection by less than an inch. Of course, with ball in hand, he made no mistake, and I'd missed an opportunity to deal a big blow to his confidence.

So now he's 4-2 up, and looking like the self-assured Earl I've seen on TV over the past decade. I was honestly starting to doubt whether I could summons the strength to fight him. I kept breathing deeply and trying to focus on MY game, as he started playing up to the crowd. He came up empty on his next break and left me a combination shot, the 1-ball onto the 2. I made the combo, but was still very jittery, and left myself snookered. I saw in front of me a very makeable jump, but nerves got the better of me once again, and I made contact but missed the pot, leaving it easy for him to begin his run. He played the 4-ball a little casually, and was forced into playing safe on the 5, however he under-hit it, giving me yet another chance. This time I showed my fighting spirit, as I knocked it up to the top corner pocket and came around three rails for beautiful position on the 6. I still felt shaky, but somehow convinced myself that I could do it. I maintained a slow and steady pace through the rack, to bring the score back to 4-3 to him. Looking back on it now, this was a clearance I absolutely had to make to stop him from completely running away with the match.

I broke, and for the first time, actually sunk a ball. Yep, the white one. So, Earl's got ball in hand, and begins to run what seems like a very straightforward rack. Unbelievably, he managed to rattle the 3 in the corner, and started complaining at someone in the audience who'd sniggered at his mistake. He became very hostile to this poor person, who maybe shouldn't have been quite as audible in his amusement, but Earl really created a scene. He swore at him, and threatened to take him outside, while I just remained in my chair, trying to compose myself as this sideshow continued. Earl finally settled down, and I approached the table with one thing on my mind - one shot at a time. I delicately dribbled the cue ball onto the edge of the 3, aiming to bring it back out from the rail about six inches for position on the 4. I'm sure it was adrenalin that ended up pumping the cue ball a foot and a half too far. I made up my mind to go for the pot anyway, and sliced the 4 all the way up to the top corner pocket, sacrificing good shape on the next ball, just to make the pot. It felt really good off the tip, and I knew straight away that it was in. This gave me a wee boost, and I played nice crisp strokes for the rest of the rack, to bring a little cheer from the crowd as I levelled the match at 4-all.

This time, I actually potted two object balls off the break, but was unlucky not to land nicely on the lowest numbered ball (the 2). I neglected to use the push-out option and played a good kick safety, leaving him in a snooker. He got out of it, but left it on for me. I played the next few balls with reasonable confidence, but I allowed myself to be distracted towards the end of the frame, and blew my chance to take the lead again. Now back in front, I could see that he was growing with confidence, and his next break reflected this, but in the end I think overconfidence was his downfall in the this frame as he took a shot too lightly, and gave me a chance to draw even once more. I took this offer with both hands, and once I'd finished that frame, I looked up at the 5-5 scoreline, I said to myself: "I'm in this match".

The eleventh frame was one where I had a lucky rub, missing a pot and landing safe, and Earl didn't like this one bit. He went off at his contingent of fans, complaining about how every time I missed, I left him safe, and how every time he missed, he left me easy shots. I tried my best to ignore this, but couldn't help laughing inside. I thought: "Ok, he's starting to get rattled now, I've just gotta keep the hammer down". I won this frame, and then did a nice clearance in the next to go 7-5 ahead. I had a control of the following frame as well, but when I had a choice between a safety and a bank, I went for the aggressive option, and missed it by a hair's-breadth, to which he replied with a nice finish of his own.

I won the fourteenth frame with some really super positional play, and was finally starting to feel like myself again. I'd managed to pick up the table speed by now, and stuck him in a safety in the next game when I couldn't clear. He got out of it, but I then pulled a huge shot out of my bag to put a three frame advantage over him. Now I only needed two frames to secure the match. It was getting pretty intense by now, and every time I'd think "I'm gonna beat Earl Strickland" I mentally slapped myself in the face, giving me a reminder that the job was not over yet. "One shot, you can do it, breathe baby, breathe", I kept telling myself.

Once again, I came up with a dry break, and even though I was trying all sorts of different ways to make a ball, nothing seemed to work. He cleared a "road map" layout, and made it 9-7 to me. As it is with the "winner breaks" rule, he could have kept me in my seat for frame after frame, but it was looking like today wasn't gonna be his day. He astonishingly missed the 8-ball, and left me a length of the table half-ball cut which I felt like I'd hit perfectly, and I watched the cue ball come round two rails for shape on the 9, only to see that the 8 had rattled and come back out. Earl seemed to rush into his attempt, and though he sunk the long shot on the 8, his bottom lip obviously dropped as he watched the white roll slower and slower towards the bottom corner pocket. I couldn't tell from my seat, whether it was going to fall, or catch the jaws and leave a straight in 9-ball, but the pool gods must have been smiling on me as I found myself coming to the table with ball in hand.

At 10-7 ahead, I was still stopping myself from celebrating prematurely, and just concentrating on the shots I needed to make. In the back of my mind was the "Million Dollar Challenge" where, in 1996, Earl famously ran eleven consecutive racks of 9-ball to win US$1million in Dallas, Texas.

I hit the sweetest of break shots, sinking the 7-ball, while keeping the cue ball under control. But I watched as the 1-ball drifted to where I knew it was going to be a challenging shot to make. I'd left myself a thin backwards cut on the 1, while having to avoid both the scratch in the corner pocket, and the collision with the 5-ball. I summonsed all of my experience and positive thinking, and decided on a way that I could miss both obstacles while maintaining position on the 2-ball. It worked to perfection and I found myself painting the picture of how the rest of the rack was going to be tackled. The 2 and 3 were simple pots, but I had to be precise with my position on the 4, because the 9 was going to be difficult to avoid when I sent the cue ball to the other end of the table for the 5. I surprised myself at how exact I left the white ball, and so I just had to give attention to the pace of the shot. I was only an inch or two too firm with this stroke, but it meant that I had to play a delicate snip draw to hold for the 6. I made the pot, but discovered that I was dead straight-in on it. Being nervous, I would usually have just played a stop shot, and left a pretty tough but makeable shot on the 8. But I chose the aggressive route and 'cheated' the pocket with a force follow to land nicely within range of the penultimate ball. I did a very subtle but intensely proud fist pump, as I knew now that I'd done it. I rolled the 8 in, leaving a simple pot on the 9, but before I could get down to play it, Earl rose from his chair and offered his hand in congratulations. Final score: 11-7.

There was a pretty hearty applause from the sizeable crowd that had gathered and I briefly raised my hand to show my appreciation. Inside I was buzzing, but tried to calmly unscrew my cues and pack my case, while containing the delight that was coursing through my body. This would have to be by far the most satisfying victory of my pool-playing career. I'm the first to admit that I had a generous helping of luck in this match, but I still managed to play the big shots when required, and proved to myself that I've got game. I cleared the table at my first real opportunity, and I broke and cleared when on the hill. I kept my focus for the most part, and controlled my breathing well, of those facts I'm very happy. I am in The Masters Program and we are totally focussed on the game at hand.

When I sit back and ponder the events of this afternoon, I realise that parts of my performance were well below what I can actually do. If my memory serves me correctly, I succeeded at only 3 out of 5 safeties, 2 of 4 kicks, 0 of 3 banks, 0 of 2 jumps, and 3 of 10 breaks. And these are usually strengths of my game. I did do a lot right, obviously, but if I can improve upon these figures in my next match, I'll be very hard to beat. Earl did make half a dozen mistakes, but I would like to take the credit for some of them, as the relatively unknown player from New Zealand put pressure on the 44 year old professional.

I've earned myself a Wed 7pm game, while Earl has to play in the one-loss bracket at 9am. My next matches won't get any easier, but if I can just keep my nerves intact, and get a fortunate roll here and there, who knows where it might take me?

Next installment will be either late tomorrow night, or the following day.

Ceri Worts

Today I played the Philippino star known as "Boy Samson" : Rodolfo Luat. He got this nickname a couple of decades ago because of his slight build, and monster break. In a 9-ball tournament in Tokyo he sunk an incredible six balls on the break. He has a pretty amazing record, including winning the World Open 9-ball Champs, and twice winning the Asian Championships, among other major titles. He finished runner-up in last year's US Open, won the Taiwan leg of the Asian 9-ball Tour, and reached the quarter-finals of last years World 9-ball Champs.

I worked on my break shot early this morning before coming back to the hotel for a few hours rest. Yesterday "I broke like a girl, and still beat Earl" hehe, and figured that if I could just find something that resembles my normal break, I'd be tough to topple. Well, this morning's session gave me a great deal of confidence, and in practice I was breaking with both power and control. Of course, back home I break from the side rail, but at this tournament they are enforcing the use of a "break box". This means that you must perform your break from a small area in the middle of the table near the centre spot, and I've had to quickly learn to use a loop bridge to accomplish this. The result of this rule is that players are finding it much more difficult to sink a ball off the break, and it seems to stop people from running several racks in a row.

In contrast to yesterday's match against Earl, I struck my lag shot almost perfectly, leaving it barely more than an inch from the top rail. Unfortunately, Luat did even better, and won the right to break first. He scratched off this break in the side pocket, and gave me ball in hand. The 9-ball was half an inch from the side rail, a foot from the corner pocket, and the 1 was near the break spot. I was pretty certain that I could attempt the 1-9 combo while leaving the cue ball behind the 6. I thought about it for a while, cos I could see that the rest of the table was open, but elected to have a go. The pool purist would say that it was the wrong option, but hey, I made it, and took a 1-0 lead.

My first break felt great, I stopped the white in the middle of the table and potted two balls. My stroke wasn't quite in sync yet, my hands were a little sticky, and I missed position from the 1 to the 2. So I chose a safety option, which I would almost always make, but didn't play enough side and scratched in the corner pocket. Sloppy mistake. Rodolfo cleared the frame and levelled the match at 1-1. He then broke and ran two balls before making a nice 3-9 combination to take the lead. He played safe towards the end of the next rack and I returned with an even better safety. He kicked out, and left me partially snookered. I used all my will skills to play a long swerve pot and finish the frame. That felt really good. Now it's 2-all.

I broke well again, and carefully made my way through the rack, playing a great slow-roll shot on the 6, and regaining the lead 3-2. My next break came up empty and Luat came up with a nice clearance to draw the scores level again. He returned the favour with a dry break of his own, and we traded safeties. He was kicking very well, and I couldn't seem to shake him. The frame was decided when I jumped at the 2-ball and didn't find safety. 4-3 to Rodolfo. The eighth frame also produced a dry break from Luat, but I couldn't see the 1, and opted to push out to the other end of the table. He put me in a very clever snooker, and although I got out of it, he made another run-out. 5-3 to him.

I broke well again, and carefully made my way through the rack, playing a great slow-roll shot on the 6, and regaining the lead 3-2. My next break came up empty and Luat came up with a nice clearance to draw the scores level again. He returned the favour with a dry break of his own, and we traded safeties. He was kicking very well, and I couldn't seem to shake him. The frame was decided when I jumped at the 2-ball and didn't find safety. 4-3 to Rodolfo. The eighth frame also produced a dry break from Luat, but I couldn't see the 1, and opted to push out to the other end of the table. He put me in a very clever snooker, and although I got out of it, he made another run-out. 5-3 to him.

Rodolfo was really struggling with his break and I came to the table with an edge of the 1 visible. I played a wicked cut on it, and came around three rails for rough shape on the 2. I felt that I had to play safe here, and executed a good safety. It seemed that I was not rewarded for this correct decision, as he played a two rail kick shot and potted the 2 cleanly into the side pocket, but the cue ball landed behind the 7, leaving him yet another kick escape. I felt that my chance was about to come, but once again he kicked and made the ball! My heart was sinking as he began to run out, but fortune finally came my way as he made an error on the 7-ball. I approached the table, seeing that he hadn't exactly left it easy for me. I was faced with a bank to the side pocket, with lots of right english to come around three rails for the 8. I still felt that I had some fight left in me, and played it with authority to land almost perfect on the black ball. A simple stun, and I was dead in on the 9. It's now 7-4 to Rodolfo.

After inspecting the rack, and observing the right side being stronger that the left, I moved the cue ball to the other side of the break box. This didn't make enough of a difference, as I came up empty-handed once more. He slid off the 1 and locked me up behind the 4-ball. I measured out a four rail kick, and hit it dead centre. I was rewarded with a snooker of my own. He kicked out, and spread the 1-ball and the cue ball to opposite sides of the table. I neglected to take on the bank, and remained patient as I put him in another jam. This time he finally missed a kick, and I had ball in hand for the first time since the opening frame. A few balls were tied up on the side rail, and the rack wasn't quite ready to be cleared. My creative safety game came out here, as I ran the 1 into the 8-ball, dropping it in between the 4 and the 9, and rolling the white forwards to land hard up between the cushion and the 2. This time I was sure even Rodolfo couldn't get out of this one, and I was right. He tried to come off three rails with check side but misjudged it by a couple of inches, opening up the cluster. I could have gone for the third foul, but felt that I had a better chance of winning the frame by making a clearance. I did just that to bring it back to 7-5.

I hit a great break in the next rack, but had no luck, as the white rolled neatly in behind the 8. I pushed into a kick shot, thinking he would take it on, and he did. I had no idea that he would actually try and make the ball, I thought he'd just play safe, but he went for it, and made it :-( He rubbed salt into my wound by mis-hitting a couple of balls, and JUST getting on the next one. He knocked the 9 in to lead by three frames, 8-5. He broke and made a ball, then tucked the white in behind a group of four balls. I could clearly visualise me getting out of this one, and felt that there was a good chance of potting it as well. It happened just like I pictured, and then I had to contend with the gathering that he'd hidden me behind previously. I worked my way round to where I had an angle off the 4 to split them, and judged the cannon on the 5 to perfection. This was most certainly a frame that I wasn't entitled to win, and pinching it the way I did would've made Luat sit up and take notice, if he wasn't already.

Breaking at 8-6 down, I maintained domination of the table until I got to the 4-ball. It was tied up beside the 5 and 8, so I played a delicate little glance off it and brought the white up behind the black. He continued to impress with his kicking skills, all the Philippinos are reknowned for their ability in this area, and he reversed the situation. I had no other option than to play an intentional foul, and put the black on top of the 5. He took ball in hand and laid another despicable snooker on me :-)

I could gain no advantage by fouling in this situation and attempted a three railer which barely missed. He stuck it to me again, attempting a combo on the 9, while hiding the cue ball. Of course I have to make a legal shot this time, or I lose the frame (three consecutive fouls is loss of game). I could feel the intensity of the situation as I got down to play the escape. It didn't feel right, so I got up and recalculated. This time, with much more certainty I descended on my cue, and played a beautiful shot to avoid the automatic loss. There wasn't much more I could have done in that situation except get really lucky, and he cleared the frame in that next visit. Luat 9, Worts 6.

I breathed deeply as I returned to my seat after preparing his rack, thinking "Just be patient, your opportunity is coming shortly. Keep fighting." I was disheartened to hear the thud of balls hitting the back of the pockets on his next break, as I carefully removed any excess moisture from my hands with a dry towel. He looked under control until half way through the rack, when he seemed to freeze up as he shot the 6-ball, cos it rattled and stayed up. I restrained my delight, and stayed in my seat for an extra second or so. I pounced on this mistake with a couple of massive pressure shots, and slotted a tough 8 to finish an absolutely necessary out. I've now clawed it back to 9-7, and I can feel the tide starting to turn.

I hit a really well-timed break, but saw the cue ball trickle into an area where I had no shot at the 1. It's push out time again, what do I do? I wasn't jumping well, and his kicking was superior to mine, so I figured I had to leave a safety option. But I couldn't leave an easy safety for him, and if I made it too difficult he'd send me back in. I knew this was a crucial shot in the context of the match, and so I spent upwards of a whole minute working it out. I decided on a shot that I suspected he would give back to me, and I'd prearranged what my response would be. He did indeed invite me to take it on, and I performed the shot exactly as I'd intended. The crowd erupted as he kick-banked the ball in off two rails. I tried my best not to shake my head in disbelief, and just bided my time for what would hopefully be another opportunity. He ran the rack to perfection, and I acknowledged his efforts with a wee tap on the table as I moved to set the balls for him again.

Leading 10-7, he struck his best break of the match, and to make what's already been a long story, short, he cleared the table to defeat me 11-7. I felt a little disappointed because I made a couple of early errors which I think in the end, probably cost me the match. But I did keep myself in the battle for a long way, maybe I just didn't have that little bit of luck that's so vital in this game. I was very proud of the resolve that I showed, from being 7-3 down, to bring it back to 9-7, and of course he is a truly world-class player. Nonetheless, so am I, and it's taken me 'til now to realise that. I'm gonna come out fighting from the opening bell tomorrow, and I'm going to try and crush anyone that gets in my way. When I win my 3pm game, I'll have the defending champion John Schmidt at 7pm (he lost 11-1 today, funny old game ain't it?

I'll let you know how it all works out late tomorrow night.

Today I played an American by the name of Scott Rabon. He's not one of the superstar names at the tournament, but is certainly a very fine player. He finished 7th in the Derby City One Pocket Tournament earlier this year, which really is an amazing achievement in what is such a massive and talented field, and his only loss so far in the US Open this year was an understandable first round defeat to legendary German Champion and past US Open winner, Ralf "The Kaiser" Souquet.

My preparation for today's encounter was pretty much perfect. I had a good sleep the night before, ate a light but nutritious meal several hours prior to game time, and felt energised and ready for battle. I managed to get on the match table with an hour to go, and spent this time doing some quality warm-up drills

I won the lag, and concentrated on getting the timing of the hit right. The cue ball jumped back and squatted right in the middle of the table, as all of us pool players like to see, but nothing fell. Rabon came to the table and opened his account with a first-time clearance. The situation was reversed in the next frame, as I executed a nice finish of my own. 1-all.

Break number two for me, again I hit it real solid, but came up empty. Scott played a push out, as he couldn't see an edge of the 1, and I put him in a safety. He kicked out and got lucky, even apologising to me for his fortune. He had left me right in the middle of the table, the cue ball pretty much surrounded, with no clear shot at the 1, and i couldn't even find a way to kick at it. I couldn't believe that there wasn't some way to make contact off a few rails, but no matter how hard I thought about it, there was nothing I could do without taking a huge risk. I entertained the thought of fouling intentionally, but once again none of these would have been percentage options.

I finally decided that a jump shot to the side rail, off the bottom rail and coming up behind the 1 was the best way to go, but the problem was that with the 1 being in the centre of the table, I couldn't reach it with a conventional jump. Back home, I've become quite proficient at the one-handed jump, but you need to be pretty calm to accomplish this difficult stroke, and I was still a bit nervous at this point in time. Anyway, I mustered the courage to play it, even though it looks like a showboating shot, and I hit it great! I came in with full-contact behind the 1, and sent it up to the opposite end of the table. We both traded a couple more kick-safeties, and the crowd were applauding each shot by now. On his next escape, as it was looking like he was going to leave me on, the 1-ball connected with the edge of the 8, and knocked it in! He took this lucky rub, and ran with it to make it 2-1 to him.

He broke, but sank nothing, and I made a clearance in what I suspect was less than sixty seconds. I figured that a fast and aggressive manner of play would be enough to make him crack. I was feeling nice and relaxed by now, and was able to use my instincts to deliver accurate shots with no hesitation. Breaking at 2-all, I didn't make a ball, again! Rabon seemed to speed up his game as well, and posted a 3-2 lead with a nice finish of his own. I remained in my seat for the next frame as well, as I observed him run out from the break. 4-2 to Scott. He hit his next break exactly the same as the previous one, and sank the same ball in the same pocket, leaving good shape on the 1. He looked like running out again, until he surprisingly seemed to have a bout of nerves on the 8-ball. I took on the cut that he'd left, and drilled the 9 to close the gap to one frame again.

This time, I made a ball on the break, and subsequently ran out to bring it back to 4-4. I inspected the rack as usual, and it appeared identical to the last one. I hit the break exactly as I had before, but the balls seemed to just dribble out of the rack, instead of exploding. I was puzzled as to what had happened as I took my seat again. Rabon cleared that frame, and had me one behind again. He sunk two balls off his next break, and immediately played a tight safety. I did my best to get out of it, making contact but leaving the 1-ball on. He kept the pressure on by running out to move 6-4 ahead.

The erratic breaking of this match, and indeed the whole tournament, continued as Rabon came up with a dry break. I took the opportunity with both hands, and shot the nine balls in order to reduce the margin to a single frame. I tried a softer break, hoping that this would allow me to sink the 1 in the side, and it missed by the barest of margins, but my eyes opened wide as I saw the 9 rolling towards the bottom left corner. Aaarrggghh, it hung right on the edge! What a huge momentum shift it would have been if it had dropped. Scott potted the 1, 2, and 3, lining himself up for the 4-9 combo, and made no mistake. He couldn't pull away though, cos his dry break let me back to the table and I made another clearance of the nine balls. No matter how hard I tried though, I couldn't level the scores, as another missed break put him back to the table, where he cleared, yet again. Rabon 8, Worts 6.

He made a ball on the break and then pushed out, and I went for a shot on the 1, trying to bank it and slide the 2 into a makeable position. I didn't feel that the safety option was certain, and I was much more comfortable with the aggressive route. In hindsight, I guess I was a bit agitated at the fact that I couldn't seem to get ahead, when I felt that I was the better player, and I think that this upset my rhythm. Scott looked a little nervous as well, as he got out of position on a couple of balls, but still managed to make the pots, and won the frame. 9-6 to the American.

He broke and completed a really great clearance in the next, to put me in a world of trouble at 10-6 down, with him breaking. I used all of my positive thinking powers to give me just one more chance at the table, and fortunately for me, he didn't get anything down off his break. I told myself that it wasn't five frames needed, it was just one shot. One shot, and then one more shot. I kept a cool head as I made my way through the rack, but got a bit of a bad rub on the 8, leaving a torturous cut on the 9. I did a lap of the table to calm myself, visualised what I wanted to do, and "You Beauty!!", I got down and nailed it! 10-7, my break.

I figured that the best thing I could do on the next break, was just concentrate on the timing of the hit, and then leave it in the lap of the pool gods. There didn't seem to be any way of guaranteeing a ball on the break, and the best chance was simply to strike it sweet and just hope. Well, I did exactly that, and it came up trumps. I sank a ball, and could see enough of the 1 to snip it into the corner pocket. I still had to play good shape because the 2 was hard on the rail, at the other end of the table. I concentrated on my breathing, and allowed myself to relax enough to let the cue do the work. I landed nicely on the 2, and stunned up to the centre of the table for the 3 and 4. The only difficult ball ahead was going to be the 7, which I needed to get underneath to have a clear shot at. My shape on the 6, allowed this, and I successfully completed the run-out to bring it back to 10-8.

I kept the same frame of mind as I approached the break, and hit it well again, but this time nothing fell. I still had a chance of getting back to the table, cos the balls were a little tied up, and I held on to this glimmer of hope, as I watched Rabon pick them off one at a time. He showed what a great player he is, by taking this opportunity with both hands, and my first US Open came to an end as he slotted the 9-ball to beat me 11-8.

I was obviously feeling a bit disappointed, but this feeling didn't last long, as the crowd gave me a warm round of applause as I left the playing arena. I had made some great clearances of the nine balls, almost every chance that I had, but Scott had played stronger than any of my previous opponents. He went on to beat the guy that knocked out the defending champ, and then he sent a few other world-class players home. I have accomplished some pretty great things here, and will be a stronger player at the Worlds and All-Japan Champs next month. Many people have stood up and taken notice, after my victory over Earl Strickland, and I've been told they'll be taking players from Oceania much more seriously from now on.

One area of discontent, was the break shot. I spent a long time preparing for this tournament, and invested a fair amount into the experience, and feel a little frustrated for the following reason. Upon checking the US Open rules on the official website a few months ago, I discovered that it would be "rack your own" and "break from anywhere". In fact the website still says the same thing. This was basis of my training program, and to find that these rules were changed upon arrival, was to say the least, a little disconcerting. If I had known, I would have been able to make myself comfortable with the use of the break box, by teaching myself the loop break bridge, and I believe this had a major effect on my overall performance. 9-ball is all about maintaining domination of the table, and in Oceania tournaments I've been able to do this because of my good break. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to control the table here like I'd hoped, and this did affect my ability to subdue my rivals.

In summing up, it's been an extremely worthwhile adventure. In the Houston Open, I beat some of Texas' biggest money players, and overcame some incredible sharking tactics, which was a completely new experience for me. In my first US Open, I reached the hill against one of pool's most infamous heavyweights, and broke and cleared to send him to the one-loss side of the draw. This is only the beginning of the journey for me, as I start down the road to becoming a truly world-class pool player.

A wise friend of mine said to me that "the road to Victory is not always paved with wins, but those losses are the learning sessions that show us what and where to improve and more importantly how far we have traveled."

To all of you who have walked with me down this road with encouragement and inspiration, I thank you very much, and I hope you'll join me on the next leg of the journey. Bring on the Philippines!!

Ceri Worts

Well, after a pretty exciting and successful first day at the Houston Open, it was very hard to get to sleep on Saturday evening. My mind was racing thinking of all the things that went on that day. I met some cool kats, and got my first real taste of the American Pub Tournament scene.

My first match on Sunday morning was against an Asian/American guy by the name of Danny Lee. We both began pretty nervously, missing shots that we should have been making. It went frame for frame til 5 each, then he cleared off my break and broke and ran to take a 7-5 lead. I played a good safety in the next but he shot an incredible 4-rail kick shot to steal the frame from right under my nose. With my back against the wall, I came out fighting to win the next two frames and put the pressure on him to break and clear, which he did to beat me 9-7. I knew that it was my early mistakes that cost me that match, but I put that behind me, and five minutes later was called for my next match.

This put me onto the one-loss side of the draw, still in the last 24 of the tournament, but I was pitted against one of the top dogs of the tournament for my very next game. His name is David Gutierrez, and he sold for $900 in the calcutta (I went for $450). I had the motto: "Go hard or go home" in my mind and kept a real intense focus as I edged out to a small lead early on. The loser's side of the draw is race-to-seven, which leaves little room for mistakes, and I forced him into several. I could feel myself gaining with confidence as the match went on, and just had to make sure that I wasn't taking any shots too lightly. I broke well, and played good position, and I'm pretty sure I didn't make a single mistake. My safety game was as good as it gets, and I beat him 7-4.

This moved me into the last 16, against a gangsta-type dude with tats all over his arms face and neck. I've never seen anyone play banks shots as hard and aggressively as he did, and they all seemed to go in!. He went by the name of Antonio, and we were put onto the table closest to the grandstand. By this stage in the tournament there was a pretty sizeable crowd, and I was pretty nervy, and the grip on my playing cue was starting to weep. This happens with a combination of humidity in the air and moisture in my hands, and is really hard to combat. I found my hand slipping a little every now and then, and I could feel a little fatigue setting in, but held it together to beat him by a score of 7-4 again. I amazed myself at how tight a safety game I played, and I also had a little bit of luck go my way.

So now I'm in the last 12 of the tournament, and drawing one of the pool room's BIG money players. Last name Strickland, first name not Earl but Dennis. He has no fear and is one of two brothers around here who play people for thousands of dollars a match. He was one of the first guys I ran into when I got to Houston and was warned by my mate Mike about his fearlessness and coolness under pressure. I'd never play him for money, but as this was a tournament situation, I felt much more comfortable. I missed a ball early in the first frame, and he completed a simple 5-ball finish to go 1-0 up. He then allowed me back to the table in the second frame and I composed myself to level it at 1-1. We traded blow for blow until 4-all, when I saw my first glimpse of nervousness from him. Once again safety play was a real strength of mine, as I found myself leaving him pondering some tough kick shots, some of which he simply couldn't get out of, and played intentional fouls (legally allowable) to try and tie some balls up. I lost control of my speed for a couple of shots, but was still able to pot the balls to go one frame ahead. The tenth frame was a memorable one: he put me in a snooker, with the cue ball down one end of the table and the 4-ball up at the other end. I played probably the best jump shot I've ever played, to slice the ball in the corner pocket and come round off two rails for perfect shape on the 5-ball and finish the rack. I was real proud of my focus in the minutes after that shot cos the crowd were pretty vocal in their appreciation, yet I still had to put the rest of the balls to bed. So now I'm one frame from victory, and he breaks and clears (maybe the third time he'd done that in the match). So I knew then he wasn't going to fall over and let me have it. My break had taken a break :-) in this match and I was struggling to make a ball, and once again it happened. He potted a few balls, but ran out of position and so he hid the cue ball from me. Once more I pulled out my jump cue, and once again it was the 4-ball that I had to hit. This time I had a slightly easier shot because the 5-ball was sitting near the corner pocket, making it what us pool players call a "big pocket". Still, given the situation, it was far from an easy shot, but I visualised it happening like I wanted it to, and struck it sweet to set up the rack for a big win. I pocketed the 5, 6, and 7 balls with no problem, but with the adrenalin rushing through my veins I over-hit the 8-ball, leaving myself nasty position on the 9. I think in the past I would have tried to bank the ball, but this time I played what is the correct shot, putting the cue ball on the bottom rail, and sending the 9 off two rails up to the top of the table. He had a go at the bank shot, but missed it by an inch, leaving a reasonably easy shot for me, and conceded the match before I got to the table. Man, was I relieved!

I didn't even want to know how many people were now left in the tournament, I just wanted to keep my focus on my game. My next match was with a guy who had a slightly deformed left hand and forearm. They call him Gus "Little Hand", and I don't even know what his last name is, but boy could he play! He obviously had very minimal feeling in that arm, but it didn't seem to affect his play at all. One of the websites refers to me as the little man from New Zealand, and says "so it was Little Man vs Little Hand". Well, in this match I made numerous mistakes, and nothing I did seemed to work as intended. I just kept giving him easy finishes, and the crowd must have been wondering how I'd beaten David G and Strickland playing like this. At 6-3 down, I think I was one of the only ones who actually thought I could still win it. One of my strengths over the last couple of years is that I never give up, no matter how impossible the situation might seem, and I reminded myself of this as I began the next frame. I broke and cleared with authority, and when he missed a tough combination shot in the eleventh frame I made the 4-ball onto the 9 to bring it back to 6-5 in his favour. I felt strong as I began clearing the next rack, but got too close to the 6-ball, so I went for a fine cut to the middle pocket, and felt like I'd hit it perfectly, but got a bit of a dirty connection between the cue ball and the object ball (what we in NZ call a kick), and saw the 6-ball come off the point of the pocket and agonizingly stay up. No matter how much I hoped for him to miss, he didn't, so I shook his hand with a big smile on my face, and collected my prize for 7th place.

Overall, I was really happy with a great amount of what I did, and feel like I'm a stronger player already. I also know that I've gained the respect of a lot of people here, not only for my game, but for my manner off the table. I've got lots to work on before I go to Virginia for the US Open, but I'm satisfied that I beat some of the biggest names in this fanatical pool-playing city, and it gives me confidence that I can dish it out with the best of them in my next few tournaments.

Ceri Worts