"someday everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody
when I paint my masterpiece"
- b. dylan
Well the Georges aren't Picasso yet. They have yet to complete a masterpiece and they still have both ears, but don't try and tell them that. They rarely listen anyway. They just continue to stroke away like masters, week after week, and that big green canvas is looking prettier and prettier with each passing win.
The last three weeks have seen victories over The Nest - both of em - and Wayne's gang of Hawaiians from the Trap. In all the Georges took 11 of 15 individual matches, showing no sign of let up along their quest for NOPO glory.
The Shakedown vs. The Nest, as it has come to be known in many Northeast Portland circles, played itself out in two parts. First came a blistering 4-1 victory over Dave and his boys from Heads. Or was it Tails? No matter. Urquhart came determined to shed the curse of the crack whore and his intensity was contagious. The captain and his Georges spanked them so thoroughly, shook them so miserably to their core, that Dave refused to even lace up his shoes. He spent the night in socks, tapping his foot incessantly on a bar stool and praying for it all to end. He twitched and scratched helplessly as his bald counterpart out-maneuvered him every step of the way; and then as signs of trauma began to set in amongst his players.
Like the Mail Man before him, as well as Ron Jeremy, Burt and the rest, Dave and his boys limped out of Binks with bleary eyes and a shattered psyche. It was a night they would soon hope to forget.
Urquhart's team stuck with their winning formula of consistent play + timely heroics from random Georges. This week it came from Urquhart himself, who not only set the stage for success with excellent use of his SLM system - 'Strategic Lineup Manipulation' - but also shed an ugly curse which had weighed upon him like a proverbial ton of bricks.
"That old crack whore sidelined Urquhart for damn near half the session," stated billiards analyst L. Rod Hamilton from Chicago's lower south side. "It must have been a sad, lonely struggle going on in that big dome of his; night after never-ending night..."
"It feels good to get the monkey off my back," the captain happily admitted afterwards, offering a rare glimpse of a smile; albeit tiny and fleeting. His lips quickly pursed back to their trademark scowl before a single camera could capture the moment, causing many reporters to groan aloud.
Next for the Georges was a short trip down Alberta to play the 'other' Nest team, Tails. Or maybe it was Heads. No matter. They were the guys atop the leader board, the ones who had been terrorizing opponents all session long, talking boldly of 'holding onto first place'. Their name mattered not. The Georges came gunning.
The Chief stepped out in match one, setting a clear tone for the Georges: there would be no quit tonight.
Down 0-3 against a 5, who was staring down an easy 8 ball for the win, things looked grim, if only for a brief moment. But the Binks mojo is humming on a strong frequency these days - it cannot be denied - and they were, after all, only a few blocks down the road. His shaken opponent rattled the shot, and The Chief proceeded to do what great champions do best: take advantage. He kicked into gear and never looked back en route to 4 straight racks and a devastating blow to the home team's morale.
The Georges slapped high fives and projected an air of easy confidence. The Nest, on the other hand, squirmed and grimaced in their chairs, biting on nails and wiping beads of sweat from each other's brows. It was far worse than any start they could have imagined. Some buried their heads in their hands. Others sat in shell shocked horror, as they would do for most of the night.
Next up was Creepywhite, facing yet another solid 5. It was clear the Nest was throwing everything at em except the kitchen sink, and who could blame them? Unfortunately for them, Creepywhite simply went about his usual business of pocketing balls and crushing dreams. He sported a new t-shirt with a Twinkie slogan, though no one would accuse him of being soft on the inside - not tonight. He delivered his crafty opponent her first loss of the season, thrashing her convincingly 4-1.
Up 2-0, Urquhart sent Veto out to face their captain Matt, a reputable 6. Things went smooth at first, with Veto taking the first 2 games, but quickly turned south after he endured a terrible flesh wound in game 3. After missing a crucial shot he squeezed hard on his pint glass, shattering it to a thousand pieces with his bare hands. The room fell silent and Veto stood frozen in pose, shards of broken glass dangling from his fingertips.
Fans and bartenders alike scrambled for bandages and medical supplies. Many feared he had hit an artery, as blood sprayed violently in a 6 foot radius all around him.
"MEDIC!!" shouted Urquhart, who was immediately overcome with Vietnam war movie flashbacks. He began to sweat, turned pale, and complained of faintness before Mixa led him to fresh air outside. "So... much... blood..." the woozy captain mumbled repeatedly as his co-captain fanned him with the score sheet.
Veto struggled inside. He was loosing blood fast and becoming increasingly vulnerable to the pack of hungry pack wolves before him. "I just wanted to cover it up and get back out there," he commented afterwards. "Bleeding on the table or passing out from blood loss is, after all, generally frowned upon in this division."
Four band aids and two games later, Veto found himself locked in a 2-2 dog fight. With the gushing ceased - finally! - he regained his focus and took the next 2 games, slipping in a break and run along the way. But Matt would not roll over without a fight and the match proceed to its hill-hill climax. It could have gone either way in the end but somehow - perhaps with the help of the Binks mojo - Veto managed to pull it out, sealing the win for the Georges.
Up 3-0, and having disposed of two 5s and a 6, it was quickly turning to a massacre on purple felt.
Urquhart regained the color in his face as fans and teammates exploded in celebration. The Nest bench sat dazed and confused along the side wall, no longer able to see straight or speak in coherent sentences. They were not used to being abused in such ways on their own table, and clearly had trouble coping with the situation.
Unfortunately for the Georeges, the flesh from Vetos left hand was not the only loss they would endure. They dropped a pair of close ones to end the night and were unable, sadly, to complete the massacre - though a 3-2 win on the road against the division leaders was still a nice way to spend a Monday night. It was their 7th straight victory, and had propelled them into a tie for first place.
Up and down Alberta street beer flowed like rain water along the curbsides as FGPP fans rioted long into the cold night. "You would hardly know the San Francisco Giants won the World Series tonight," stated famed sports caster Joe Buck, "had you been here in Northeast Portland to witness this jubilation."
Urquhart, however, remained as furious as ever after the historic win. "Its lonely at the top," he moaned, "and technically, we're not even on the top. We're tied for the top, which leaves me significantly more pissed off than I should be right now."
When asked how he intended to hold onto first place, the legendary captain shot up from his chair, sending it crashing to the ground behind him. He held up next week's scouting report and waved it for all to see, and then proceeded to chastise reporters for having their heads "so far up their goddam asses all the time."
Somewhere, Bobby Knight must be proud.
"It case you didn't notice we play Wayne and his gang of vicious Hawaiians next week," Urquhart raged on, "and it won't be a picnic." He lit a cigarette, then pointed to a reporter from CBS News, "Go ahead Hal, you can print that."
"So how do we hold onto first place?" he went on, "we play every week like its our last. If we do that, we win the division. If we don't, we watch Tri-Cups on TV, on our asses, again."
Apparently the rest of the Georges got the message. They returned home to Binks and hardly skipped a beat, diving head first into a 4-1 beat down over Wayne and his gang from the Trap. Only The Chief lost, and in a 5-4 nail biter to Wayne himself. Blackbeard, Corn Sandwich and Mixa all delivered sweeps, while Urquhart looked ever the picture of confidence in a rousing 3-1 win of his own.
"It was an impressive win tonight," stated ESPN pool commentator Mitch Laurance. "Hell, it has been an impressive session. Eight in a row for the Georges, all I can say is WOW!"
When color man Harry Winkle asked if FGPP should be concerned about a let down week, Laurance replied, "I don't think they need to worry about that. This group is dialed in and Urquhart clearly has them ready to play each week. Their ranking situation is another story, and will likely cause Urquhart a few more bleeding ulcers. But hey, such problems tend to arise when you bludgeon ever opponent you face for two months straight."
Indeed, with Creepy and The Chief already 6s, Mixa a 4, and Blackbeard and Cornsandwich on their way up, the stretch run could prove to be the toughest coaching challenge of Urquhart's distinguished career.
Next up for the Georges: another tall task on the road, this time against The American Legion. While they pose little threat in the standings, their table is notorious for administering pain and suffering to strangers. "Its a big 8 footer," commented World Champion Mika Immonen, who knows it well, "and it plays fast and loose, like an expensive German call girl."
"We need one more big win before the bye week," a fiery Urquhart proclaimed at the post game news conference, "and then its downhill towards the stretch run." When asked how he would prepare his troops for the notorious Legion table, he replied, "We're going to go in there and practice, that's how. Then we're going to go on Monday night and win games."
If the Georges respond to Urquhart's rally cry the way they did against the Trap, it should be another thrilling week for pool fans in Northeast Portland. Perhaps even, it will bring the Georges one step closer to their elusive masterpiece: a NOPO division crown followed by Tri-Cup glory.
Stay tuned sports fans. We may just be witnessing history, and I for one wouldn't want to miss it for the world.
