Ask 100 women what they look for in a Man...the qualities that make a Man desirable...and what will you find? A fat wallet? Nice head of hair? Howabout being a pool shark and an amazing dart player? Wallet. Check. Hair. Check. Pool and Darts? Not so much.
Now ask a man the same question (although less gay, but what makes a Man a Man) and you'd probably be treated with an entirely different list of qualifications.
Ability to BBQ? Yep. Knowledge of sports history? Of course. Pool skills and dart domination? Fuck ya. (sorry mom).
Which of course is why having good hair or being rich is not a man challenge and kicking ass at pool and darts is. Add alcohol, shit talking and being able to check out chicks out of the corner of your eye while dropping the eight ball in the side pocket and hitting a bullseye and what you've got is the making of a great Man.
Wednesday night, after a brutal game of mini golf (blood was shed), the 5 Man Challengers made their way into downtown PB to battle it out on the green felted fields of Society. In the dark, nearly empty pool hall the men drew seeds. Bing, self proclaimed pool shark numero uno, drew a matchup against the Rude. The Machine meanwhile pulled a head to head battle with DJ Dhorse, leaving zMurder with the valuable first round bye. It would not be the last time that night that zMurder would get lucky.
Bing bested Rudy, adding to the Mexican Misery (a suitable tag for his day given a 13 over par performance in mini golf and a first round loss in pool...don't worry though dear Reader, he makes a big comeback in the final Act). Dhorse shot a superb game and broke the Machine.
Think of Bing as the Lakers, Ant as Boston and Z$ as the OK City Thunder. If you were to pick a winner who would bet the farm on? I'm gonna guess it wouldn't be the Thunder. And you would be right. Ant treated me like Ralph Machio before he met Mr. Miyagi and I went down faster than a drunk hostess at a PF Changs party. LA/Boston was on. Jantz wrote the final chapter of Mexican Misery by beating Rudy and earned a second game in the battle of Tards (first round losers) with me.
Going into round two I would have been on the same page as you. I saw myself as a speed bump on the road to somebody else's greatness. My only hope? Margartitas. And lots of them. Booze to my pool game is like oil to a squeaky wheel. Drunk, I'm Bill Walton. Sober, I'm Luke Walton. So as Jantz wrapped up his game against Rudy, I was busy hitting up Amy, our helpful waitress, for mas tequila por favor. By game time I was Rachael buzzed, which is Rachael speak for D.R.U.N.K. Bad news for the Machine. Game. Set. Match. Z$. To be honest I don't recall the game...vividly at least. I do remember frustration on the part of Jantz and bewilderment on the part of the gallery. If not borderlined black outed I would have been extremely flabbergasted myself, but in my drunken haze all I remember thinking is, "Holy shite, I should go pro and beat that black widow woman." Jantz was out and Bing kept marching on, beating Ant and wearing the favorite title like a beloved Tshirt.
Ant was sent down to face me in the loser's bracket (Tardville). Armed with misplaced confidence, I kept the Tequila Train rolling along and ran Ant over like a traveling hobo who accidently fell asleep on the tracks. To say a second consecutive win by Z$ was a surprise was like saying Pulp Fiction was kind of OK. I think Ant's head exploded when I beat him but I'm willing to accept that fact that I may have drunkenly imagined that.
OK City fought their way back into the winner's circle to face a strong Lakers team and guess what?
They lost.
What did you think this was fool.....Rudy 2? Miracles only happen in terrible romantic comedies, novels written by people named Mitch Albom and on ice (1980 Olympics to be exact). I got my ass kicked but not as bad as you would imagine. Bing played down to me and almost Yankee'd away the championship match.
When the dust settled and the last rumplemintz shot was taken Bing told the Vince Carter Theory to eff off and won solidly as the favorite. Against all odds, I blew through the loser's bracket like Downey Jr. threw a pile of coke and almost toppled the mighty Lakers for a come from nowhere second place. Ant took a demoralizing bronze while Jantz and Rudy were left to ponder where it all went wrong. Oh and did I mention Peter? No? He was too busy getting a pedicure, drinking cosmos and deciding who he liked better for Brody--Audrina or Kristen--to make it.
Final results for pool....Bing 6, Z$ 5, Ant 4, Jantz 3, Rudy 2 and Peter 0.
If you've made it this far dear Reader then you know that the 18 Point Night was epic. From Bing's Mini Golf game to my improbable upsets to Rudy's unwillingness to notch anything higher than a 2, it was all one for the history books. Upon entering the Fox the night only got more surreal. At least for me and my friends Jose, Herradura and Don Julio (the Silver Fox to those of you unfamiliar with Pacific Beach looks like the basement you got drunk in in high school and smells like a frat party the day after. Its the bar you will find yourself in at 6 AM after a night of drinking has left you staring into an unwelcome sunrise saying, "WTF time is it? Well let's hit the fox," surrounded by night shift workers getting off and drunks who think 6 AM is too late for a bar to open. Being inside the Fox is rarely a good thing). The Dart Game was cricket and if you don't know the rules than you'd better axe somebody. Somewhere in the blocks between Society and The Silver Fox, Bing picked up a nasty little hex, which left him unable to stick a dart in the board to save his life. That is about the only thing I concretely recall from the competition. I do know that I won, and not in a Favre-like desperation last minute heave to beat a clearly superior Niners team way, but in a Pacquiao dropping Hatton way. And who would make a comeback in the epilogue of the Mexican Misery you ask? That's right, our unlikely hero Rudy, stepping up and telling the dart board, "Te voy a dar una paliza puta!" Jantz came in third, Ant third and Bing last and I know this because the crumpled piece of paper tells me so.
For everything there is a season....and on that night, the 18 Point Night, it was a season of change. Bing grabbed big points (13) and slid from fourth into third. I netted the most points (15) and again climbed to my pre zVirus status of first place. Jantz fell from first, even though he nabbed 12 points on the night, into second. Ant's 10 points helped him into fourth place. The final stanza in the Mexican Misery was a 9 that left Rudy hanging in last place. And Peter--the leader, the frontrunner for so much of challenge--fell and may have shown that he is just two thirds of his name the Great White Hype.
And that is the tale of the 18 Point Night. If you've made it this far dear Reader I congratulate you on your perserverance. Reward yourself with a cold beer and a strong shot....I know I'll be taking my tired fingers and doing the same.
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