tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619322892209358563.post4953232810209308144..comments2024-03-27T23:42:07.632-05:00Comments on Pool is a Journey: Three GenerationsMelindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14816789283998956925noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619322892209358563.post-89567333808892556612018-02-15T15:45:41.405-06:002018-02-15T15:45:41.405-06:00This is exactly how my grandfather, dad, and I wer...This is exactly how my grandfather, dad, and I were in the late 90's & early 2000's. We'd all go to a pool room and just play. One of the last memories I have of my grandfather at a pool room was when he was about 82 in a wheelchair. He asked to play a few games w/ me so dad wheeled him up to the table. I racked for him, and he stood up and broke softly. He made one ball, and proceeded to pick apart the rack like a surgeon. For each shot, he'd wheel over to the shot, stand up slowly, and the object ball would hit center pocket. I racked again, and this time he broke them a little harder. With a better spread, he ran out and made it look so easy. One last rack, and he ran out again. After 3 games, he got tired so I threw in the towel. LOL. It was so amazing to watch him play so good at that age, and he was having a blast the entire time. Good times!Juan P.noreply@blogger.com