This is one of those 'life lessons' that no amount of money can buy.. It doesn't matter what someone tells you, it doesn't matter what you read, it doesn't even matter if you sit back and watch as it happens to someone else... You NEVER learn this lesson until it happens to you.Years ago I had one goal. No, not to be the greatest magician in the world.. I wanted to be a world-class pool (billiard) player. I thrived on competition. Woke up every morning thinking about sending some beer-breathed, meucci-totin', over-confident hustler home from the pool hall a few hundred dollars lighter.I had a break to-die-for, a stroke that many other players called the 'most solid' they had ever seen, and I could cut the dickens out of any ball - from any distance.I could make 'road men' furl their eyebrows in frustration with an array of bank shots that could get me out of almost any jam.Every day, hour after hour, I 'practiced' with anyone and everyone who was willing to put money in the table. If they didn't want to play, I'd offer them some kind of ridiculous spot (advantage) just to get them to the table.Other players commented about my stamina and my willingness to 'practice' hour after hour - long after they had packed their cues and gone about their business.Other players, that was, except two young guys in the back corner.While I played game after game, assuming the experience would help me see every possible situation and allow me to practice every imaginable shot under game conditions - two of my friends practiced alone, setting up shots and drills, and developing their games in quiet solitude.They had the satisfaction of cutting fifty consecutive balls in the side pocket.. I had the satisfaction of putting some bloke's money in my pocket.Once and again, one of them would ease over to my table when things were slow and ask for a game. We never played for much, they didn't have much. Besides, I admired their determination and fire. I could beat em' like a drum and they knew it, but it didn't stop them from wanting a game. They were getting inexpensive lessions from a better player, and I honestly didn't mind helping the little guys out. They needed more 'game time' and less of those silly little sessions in the corner anyway.After months of steady improvement, I reached a plateau that ninety-nine point nine percent of players never experience... I had to 'spot' almost everyone I played. I was winning my share of tournaments and cash, but to my chagrin, I could tell that I wasn't getting better. Despite 'practicing' endless hours every single day, I really had reached a plateau, and I was stuck there.I continued to play daily, and eventually got into a routine of meeting my two little buddies every Saturday afternoon at 2:00. We would meet at the same location and shoot on the same table every week. They invariably asked a hundred questions about english, and draw, and top spin. I suppose it played to my ego a bit that they looked up to me as their mentor. But, regardless of what happened on Saturdays, they continued their endless drills in the corner while the rest of us 'players' hustled the crowds.Maybe my game wasn't going anywhere, but that certainly wasn't the case with my two little shadows.After seven or eight months of playing every week things began to even up, and I found myself in the position of not being able to offer them a spot anymore. They were getting better - much better.Several more months and things changed drastically.While I sat atop my little plateau, stuck in the same gear for over a year, one of my little friends picked up a sponsor, went to Las Vegas for two months, and came home with the world nine-ball bar table championship. The other didn't do too bad either.. he beat the ESPN world nine ball champion in the finals of a major tournament and came home fifteen thousand dollars richer.I wanted to be a player too, a big-time player on a big stage. But, sadly to say, I didn't want to take the time to be a 'student' of the game because it was boring, wasn't fun, and definitely wasn't profitable. Worse yet, I realized that I wasn't their mentor.I was their long-eared, short-tailed, burrowing mammal of the family Leporidae - I was their Rabbit.Allowed to set the pace, I ran ahead of the pack and provided those little guys with a goal - until my lack of conditioning showed.I don't think I need to explain how this life lesson applies to magic equally as well as it applies to billiards. Now, to perform at the level I wanted to perform at, I realized that I would have to break my game down, go BACK to the basics I so freely ignored in the beginning, find my own table in the corner, and hope that fate and fortune would give me one more chance at ESPN.How disheartening.Were my friends more talented than me? I don't think so.. I honestly believe I had more natural talent than either of them. But they had the smarts to realize that under pressure, a solid foundation would trump natural talent. They could perform shots with the confidence that, not only had they made that shot during tournament play, they had made that shot fifty or a hundred times in a row, without a miss, on the back table.Every pool game and every card trick is a series of smaller moves. 'Running the table' isn't an event - it's a series of events consisting of making NINE consecutive shots.. Each shot is different. And they had practiced each shot over and over until motor memory took command and demanded that their muscles, nerves, and thoughts do the right thing.Ask Tiger Woods where the tournament was won, and he'll tell you " on the practice green ". In their case, it was won in the back corner while I was busy hustling chump change on the front tables.The same is true with every card trick, sleight of hand, illusion, and act of mentalism. Each is a 'series of sleights' that leads to a climatic end. Successful magicians don't make the mistakes I made. They have their own "back table" somewhere ( a la Jeff McBride and his table, mirrors, and cameras) where they dilligently learn to master ALL the smaller moves by practicing them over and over.Double lift, double lift, double lift, double lift... ad nauseamMy favorite sayings is the well-worn "Practice doesn't make perfect.. Perfect Practice makes perfect."How do YOU practice, my friends? Do you take the time to master the art of magic one little step at a time, or do you think that by simply performing a series of tricks over and over that should be sufficient to get your name in lights on the strip?Performing as a form of practice can be fun.. But in the end, you'll have to sit in the audience and watch as your friends command the stage.Rick Carruth is the editor of Magic Roadshow - magic's premier free newsletter. Learn dozens of magic tricks online or subscribe to Magic Roadshow at: http://streetmagic.info
Read 3 "Best of" issues of Magic Roadshow at: http://www.magicroadshow.com
Keyword : magician, magic, practice, sleight, coin, card, trick,
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