3-Cushion
Those two or three days just before the Verhoeven Open in New York have a special vibe. The ten tables in the central arena of the Carom Cafe make it possible for many players to practice at the same time, and that's exactly what they do. Even some of the world class guys arrive early, and put in as many hours as they can, to get used to the conditions. Haeng Jik and Dong Koong Kang, Bury and Switala, Coklu and Tasdemir, to name just a few of the players who were in New York well before the action starts.
This evening, I watched Semih for a while. I always do when I get the chance, because not only is he good, he is also entertaining. You'll see all sorts of interesting things happen when he plays. And it's certainly not just the circus stuff, the artistic wizardry. He's focused on serious 3-cushion, not on a quick round of applause. His game is simply loaded with quality, both in terms of stroke and decision-making.
I saw him make a few errors tonight, most of those the result of (excellent) table conditions he's not used to at home. There is a world of difference between your average middle-of-the-season Platin table and the Verhoevens in the Carom Cafe in August. But there was also a nice stretch of four innings where he ran 5-0-16-4. Not too shabby, right?
My mind went back a decade, to another evening at the Carom Cafe. Must have been 2005 or 2006. Semih was playing a warm-up game with Daniel Sanchez, and they were joking around. But I could still sense that neither player wanted to get beaten by a margin. It doesn't look good, and besides, you want to get your practice time in.
So when Semih opened with three runs of five in the first three innings (and Daniel hadn't scored a point yet), there was a little electricity in the air. Daniel stood at the rail, and joked: "I'm going to have to defend a bit better, or this guy will not let me play at all." Fourth inning, no score for either player. Fifth inning, Semih zero, Daniel nine. Sixth inning, Semih zero, Daniel twenty...
Now it was Sayginer's turn to make a face, as if to say: "Can you believe this guy?"
A day later Semih is again practicing, this time by himself. It's well past midnight, most of the spectators are gone. But a small group of diehards is at the rail, most of them accomplished players. Mike Kang was there, Torres and Patino, maybe also Peter Ceulemans but I'm not sure about him. The point is: I have witnesses.
Why are we watching a guy practice by himself? 1) Because it's Semih. 2) Because he is playing a really unusual game. He has only TWO balls on the table. What he is trying to do, is hit the (only) other ball, then three cushions, and then that other ball again! You could call it a deliberate kiss, or a time-shot. Whatever the name you give it, fact is that making even a single point this way is heartbreakingly difficult. I am a decent player myself, but I could stand there all night and not make a single point.
Our little late night group watched in amazement as Semih made a run of FIVE, in this crazy game. He didn't do it with 200 mph shots. Every point was based on a perfect distribution of speed between the two balls, and a correct assessment of their trajectory. It was one of the most jaw-dropping and beautiful things I've ever seen on a billiard table.
Mind you, special skills like those don't win you 3-cushion tournaments. Semih has never won the Sang Lee Memorial or the Verhoeven Open. But his abilities are unique: he can sometimes transform billiards from a sport into an art. If and when he does, I want to be there.