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 grinding some beer-breathed, meucci-totin', over-confident, slick hustler into the table.
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 of out any ball - from any distance.
I could make 'road men' furl their eyebrows in frustration with a array of bank shots that could get me out of almost any jam..
Every day, hour after hour, I played one game after another. Most players marveled at my stamina, and my willingness to practice on and on - long after they packed their cues and went about their lives.
Most players, that is, except two..
While I played game after game, assuming the experience would let 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.
For some time I could "beat em' like a red-headed stepchild", taking their money and, I was sure, making them re-think their silly little sessions in the corner.
Then, suddenly, I reached the top of my game. I had reached a plateau that ninety-nine point nine percent of players never experienced... I had to 'spot' almost everyone I played, and I started to rack up the trophies (and cash).. But, I had two quiet players who weren't afraid to play me.
After several months of playing every week, we played even. After several more months, I was losing more often than winning.
And while I sat atop my little world, one of my friends, within a year, had won the world nine-ball bar table championship in Las Vegas. The other guy didn't do to bad either.. he beat the then World Nine Ball champion ( a guy I still see on ESPN regularly) in the finals of a major tournament and came home fifteen thousand dollars richer...
I wanted to be a player. I didn't want to take the time to be a student, because it wasn't 'fun' or 'profitable'..
I don't think I need to explain how this life lesson applies to magic just as surely as it applies to billiards. To perform at the level I wanted to perform at, I would have to break my game down, go BACK to the basics I ignored in the beginning, and hope that I could get back to the main stage.
Were my friends more talented than me? I don't think so.. I had more natural talent than either of them. But they had the smarts to realize that, ultimately, a solid foundation would win out. They could perform shots with the confidence that, not only had they made that shot before, they had made that shot fifty or a hundred times in a row without a miss.
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 each shot has been practiced over and over.
The same is true in 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 'see' the big picture, and learn to master all the smaller moves by practicing them over and over....
Double lift, double lift, double lift, double lift... ad nauseam
My favorite sayings is the well-worn " Practice doesn't make perfect.. Perfect Practice makes perfect.."
How do YOU practice? Do you take the time to master the art of magic one little step at a time?
Performing as a form of practice, instead of practicing as a form of performing, can be fun.. But in the end, you'll have to sit in the audience and watch as your friends command the stage...
1 comment:
Good advice Rick. I'm like you, I took the 'easy route' one time too, and now I'm paying for it..
Scott R.
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