The Dipsy-Do

by Keith McCready

 Pool has become very diversified since the advent of computer technology.  The information age has opened the door for many aspiring pool players.  You can probably find a tournament any day of the week, anywhere, with a click of the mouse.  Like the movie “Field of Dreams,” build it and they will come, and this is what promoters do.  They build it, and we all come.
 Before the Internet arrived, a tournament announcement would be disseminated through word of mouth or an occasional flier.  I attended as many as I could afford, but, much to my amazement, I would always end up being the bridesmaid, coming in second or third to the likes of Mike Sigel, Earl Strickland, or Jimmy Mataya.
 In the early ‘80s, I was traveling down South, and word came to me about an upcoming big-paying 9-ball tournament in Columbia, South Carolina, and so off I went, full of hope and wondering what players would show up.
  When I arrived at the poolroom, I surveyed the scene, and all the world-beaters were there.  I survived the first four days of a really tough field and had a good chance to finally win o­ne.  o­n the final day, though, I woke up a little late and called the poolroom, letting them know I was o­n my way.  I was hoping for an easy draw, but when the voice o­n the other end of the phone told me who my opponent was, it was the same old song: Jimmy Mataya, the guy who beat me 11 to nothing the last time we played.
 I grabbed my cue and rushed over to the tournament site.  It was o­ne of those smoky poolrooms with very dim lighting.  The o­nly illumination came from the table lamps.  After my eyes adjusted, in the distance I noticed this bright red-and-white blinking light, and I knew it could o­nly be o­ne person, Jimmy Mataya.  He was practicing, hitting balls with authority, feeling confident, making real manly shots, and he was wearing this blinding crimson-and-white flickering hat that looked like something out of a carnival.  I barely had enough time to hit a few balls, which didn't boost my confidence much, but I really wanted to win this match.
 When they announced our names, I grabbed my stick and moseyed o­n over to our designated table, and here was Jimmy chirping like a canary with those dazzling lights o­n his hat blinking red and white, red and white, red and white.  I didn't want him to think I was sharked, so I let it go.
 We lagged for the first break, and we were off and running racing to 11.  Jimmy shot through me like Swiss cheese, and before I knew it, he was o­n the hill with a score of 10-zip. He broke the balls o­n the case game, and that hat was getting o­n my nerves as he was running out.  I was benched and not liking it.  Jimmy ran out to the 7 ball, got out of line, and missed the 8 ball, but he didn't look too worried because it was darn near impossible to pocket the ball at that angle in the corner pocket and get position o­n the 9 rock.  I said, “Jimmy, I'm going to make a dipsy-do shot, and if I do, the hat is mine.”

 This shot was in my bag of tricks.  I practiced it consistently back home.  It was my dipsy-do, also known as the inside kill shot.  You must aim downward o­n the cue ball with follow-through and slide the cue ball over to the back rail with inside english, just shaving the object ball ever so crisply, so the cue ball will deaden off that back rail.
 Learn the “feels” for this shot.  If you hit the ball too full, it might be because your hand is too tight o­n the back end of the stick.  Stroke downward using less pressure, with a longer stroke.  If you over-cut it, it is because your grip is too loose o­n the butt end of the cue.  You need to over-compensate for hitting the ball too full or over-cutting it.  Try to lengthen your hand o­n the cue stick, making sure you don't pull or jerk it too much.  I like to twirl my fingers around the butt to get a better “feel” for that longer stroke.  This is an advanced shot, and most pros have difficulty in executing this shot.  Practice with shorter distances, and make adjustments until you have mastered the “feels.”
 Jimmy hadn't even sat down yet, and I was already addressing the ball.  I took a very deep breath and made the dipsy-do successfully.  The whole crowd became unglued, but I still had 10 more games to go.  I assured myself that I wasn't out of it, and making this difficult inside kill shot gave me momentum.  I ran four racks, played a safety, ran three more racks, played a safety, and I was steamrolling.  The spectators were now o­n my side, applauding and cheering after every shot, and before I knew it, the score was 10-10.  I made a good out in the eleventh game for the win.  I could see that Jimmy didn't want to relinquish my prize, but, after a few chuckles and laughs, he presented this hideous hat to me, autographing it “Pretty Boy,” as he was wont to be called, and placed it o­n my head.
 Competing in tournaments for any pool player is an uphill battle.  If you practice difficult shots and conquer them, like the inside kill, with a lot of dedication and patience, you may find yourself in the winner’s circle more times than not, if you have your own bag of tricks.

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