Here’s one of the more hilarious things I can remember seeing.

About 25 years ago, eight of us Hornswood (being the dynamic little suburbs from Hornsby to Chatswood) lads were in a packed Eastern Suburbs bowling club for some barefoot night-time bowls.

At about 8:00pm a MASSIVE storm blew over. Thunder, lightning, bucketing rain, the works. We along with about 60 or so other bowlers all rushed into the clubhouse or under the awnings to get out of the squall. However, our mate Mac (who was completely stoned) was too out-of-it to budge. He was in the bad place of over-intoxication and could not move off the outside bench.

Mac was 110kg, 6 foot 4″ so we physically could not budge him, not in our drunken state anyway. So we left him sitting out in the perfect storm. We stood around with bowlers and watched and laughed at our friend out there, unmoving as wind and rain lashed him.

Finally after an hour in the soaking tempest Mac suddenly sprang to life, got his second wind and wandered into the bowling club looking like he’d just stepped out of a pool. As EVERYBODY had been laughing at Mac on a bench in the hurricane, he got a rousing round of applause. He was wet and embarrassed.

Mac spotted us seated near the only pool table. He looked ridiculous, but relatively with-it.

Me – “Mac, your shot mate. Hurry up! We’re on bigs.” I pointed at the pool table.

Now Mac after his coma/sleep, feeling quite in control of his senses and leaving puddles wherever he stepped, spied our opponents. Two ten-year-old boys.

There’s only one bent, old pool cue in the place. Mac wandered over and confidently plucked the cue out of the overweight ten-year-old’s hands. With a look of complete disdain for the kid, Mac leaned over, water running off his chin and somehow managed to sink the purple twelve. The right ball even.

His success went straight to Mac’s head. He’d gone from the laughingstock of the establishment to the kick-arse pool shark! Mac had his dignity back.

Going a bit over the top with his one-ball success, Mac raised the cue above his head and did a mocking dance in front of the pudgy little kid. He chanted loud and proud, like he’d just won a Grand Final.

Mac – “YEAH!! TWELVE-BALL GONE! YOU THOUGHT I’D MISS IT DIDN’T YOU SONNY. WELL NOT ON MY WATCH. NOT OL’ MAC! WHERE’S THE TWELVE BALL KID… OH… IT’S GONE. EL GONSKI!”

The child just looked up at the massive man. His face a mixture of fear, surprise and… well mostly fear. The kid’s mother then bustled up to Mac. She came up to about his chest and was irate.

Mother – “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU BIG DUFUS? WHY DON’T YOU GO BACK AND SIT ON YOUR BENCH YOU… MORON.” She slapped the cue out of his hands. It bounced on the carpeted floor.

Now Mac even in his inebriated mind knew that his mocking dance had possibly been out of line when playing a child. And he definitely did see fear in the ten-year-olds eyes when he discoed in front of him but come on! That’s what playing pool is all about. He considered telling the mother that it’s just part of the game, to lighten up, but she looked really mad so he didn’t.

Mac wandered back to us lads and we were in hysterics. I can’t ever remember laughing louder or longer.

Mac – “Jeez mum’s a bit touchy.”

More laughter.

Me – “Mac (I put a hand on his shoulder) we weren’t actually playing.“

He froze. It dawned on him. His jaw dropped. We weren’t actually playing. He’s rocked up to this little ten-year-old who’s having a quiet game of pool with his friend, plucked the cue out of his meaty little hands, sunk one of his balls and had done a teasing “in your face” dance. No wonder his mum slapped the cue away.

Mac then stumbled over to the mother, his new-found sobriety having been torn from him and offered to shout them another game of pool or maybe some ice-cream.

Mother – “Keep THE HELL away from my child!“

We laughed. Mac dripped.

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Thanks for reading. I write blogs oftentimes just to be able to claim when meeting a new person at a Hornswood party, that I am in fact… a writer (whereby my wife generally jumps in and proclaims “he’s actually NOT a writer”). If you could Share far and wide via the buttons below, that would be amazing. I write stuff for a few small companies, but I need to one day be a famous contributor to the noble art of blogging. And check out the brilliant new craft-beer home delivery business I have set up with a few North Shore dads (gettincrafty.com.au) Cheers