Bata, the Grand Old Man of pool
HIS skills obviously faltering, the old man summoned what little was left of his bag full of tricks for one final run.
Opposite the table was the young upstart, the future of pool in the Philippines, a country where every corner seems to house a Bata wannabe.
The young upstart, who a week before had the crowd behind him during another final, knew everybody was rooting for him to lose.
Everybody wanted the old man to win, again.
But everybody in the venue knew that the old man wasn’t the same player who won the World 9-Ball title in 1999.
Failing eyesight, frazzled nerves, and just too darn many young upstarts eager to take his place meant his title runs were getting fewer.
Even Bata himself acknowledges he’s no longer the same player he used to be.
He said that five years ago, after an embarrassing first-round exit in the tournament he used to dominate.
In that final against Roberto “Superman” Gomez, it seemed Efren Reyes was in for another disappointment. He’s lost so many times in local tournaments that not a few folks thought he’s deliberately losing matches.
But yesterday, even when he got down early, nobody thought he was throwing the match.
Everybody just knew that age has simply caught up with Bata and he’s missing shots he’d normally make with his eyes closed.
And it showed yesterday, when he had trouble sinking the long shots, or even executing his trademark safeties.
In one TV interview a few years back, Efren said his failing eyesight makes long shots difficult for him. He said he’s also lost his “pulso” and demonstrated the effect.
After dropping a ball, he watched where the cue ball stopped and told the interviewer.
“See, I wanted it to go here,” while pointing to a spot just six inches away.
And in pool, six inches can be the difference between having an easy shot or having no shot at all.
Yesterday, it showed.
The man they called the Magician for his uncanny ability to control the cue ball couldn’t even play safety, correctly. He tried so many times to hook Gomez behind another ball but he’d always end up with the object ball and the cue ball in an open area. His misses were sometimes cringe-worthy.
But Bata is Bata.
There’s no other guy like him.
So when he was down 7-4, he did what he does best.
He strung a few racks by avoiding the long shots and just like that, he was level with Gomez, 8-8.
But Gomez was playing really well and he said the reason behind his relaxed play was nobody expected him to win.
It’s the same sentiment echoed by Reyes so many times all these years. It’s very difficult for him to win at home, because everybody expects him to win.
The last rack, for me, also showed the difference between Efren of Old and the 57-year-old version.
A few years back, when he was facing his friend Francisco Bustamante in the finals, Bata only had two balls left for the title.
It would have been just an elementary stop and shoot for the final ball. But Bata, being Bata, wanted something more for the crowd, so he dropped the eight and let the cue ball travel around the nine for the final shot.
He didn’t get it.
While the commentators were screaming, “Aba, pinaikot pa!” Django threw in the towel.
Yesterday, there were no such flamboyant shots. Bata avoided the long shots that would have tested his eyesight. But when the cue ball rolled close to the 10 for the final shot, he didn’t get it.
Gomez threw in the towel.
And the fans were treated to yet another rare sight—57-year-old Bata, launching into a silly dance.
Opposite the table was the young upstart, the future of pool in the Philippines, a country where every corner seems to house a Bata wannabe.
The young upstart, who a week before had the crowd behind him during another final, knew everybody was rooting for him to lose.
Everybody wanted the old man to win, again.
But everybody in the venue knew that the old man wasn’t the same player who won the World 9-Ball title in 1999.
Failing eyesight, frazzled nerves, and just too darn many young upstarts eager to take his place meant his title runs were getting fewer.
Even Bata himself acknowledges he’s no longer the same player he used to be.
He said that five years ago, after an embarrassing first-round exit in the tournament he used to dominate.
In that final against Roberto “Superman” Gomez, it seemed Efren Reyes was in for another disappointment. He’s lost so many times in local tournaments that not a few folks thought he’s deliberately losing matches.
But yesterday, even when he got down early, nobody thought he was throwing the match.
Everybody just knew that age has simply caught up with Bata and he’s missing shots he’d normally make with his eyes closed.
And it showed yesterday, when he had trouble sinking the long shots, or even executing his trademark safeties.
In one TV interview a few years back, Efren said his failing eyesight makes long shots difficult for him. He said he’s also lost his “pulso” and demonstrated the effect.
After dropping a ball, he watched where the cue ball stopped and told the interviewer.
“See, I wanted it to go here,” while pointing to a spot just six inches away.
And in pool, six inches can be the difference between having an easy shot or having no shot at all.
Yesterday, it showed.
The man they called the Magician for his uncanny ability to control the cue ball couldn’t even play safety, correctly. He tried so many times to hook Gomez behind another ball but he’d always end up with the object ball and the cue ball in an open area. His misses were sometimes cringe-worthy.
But Bata is Bata.
There’s no other guy like him.
So when he was down 7-4, he did what he does best.
He strung a few racks by avoiding the long shots and just like that, he was level with Gomez, 8-8.
But Gomez was playing really well and he said the reason behind his relaxed play was nobody expected him to win.
It’s the same sentiment echoed by Reyes so many times all these years. It’s very difficult for him to win at home, because everybody expects him to win.
The last rack, for me, also showed the difference between Efren of Old and the 57-year-old version.
A few years back, when he was facing his friend Francisco Bustamante in the finals, Bata only had two balls left for the title.
It would have been just an elementary stop and shoot for the final ball. But Bata, being Bata, wanted something more for the crowd, so he dropped the eight and let the cue ball travel around the nine for the final shot.
He didn’t get it.
While the commentators were screaming, “Aba, pinaikot pa!” Django threw in the towel.
Yesterday, there were no such flamboyant shots. Bata avoided the long shots that would have tested his eyesight. But when the cue ball rolled close to the 10 for the final shot, he didn’t get it.
Gomez threw in the towel.
And the fans were treated to yet another rare sight—57-year-old Bata, launching into a silly dance.
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