I remember playing under the foosball table for years until I could actually reach the handles and play. I recall roping up Kaylene or Becca to one of the legs during my pre foosball days. Now when I was able to actually play the game I had the bad style of having my defense hand reversed on the handle, fingers going over and to the right instead of under and to the right. It was how I did things and it worked out alright for spinning. When I was forced to do it the "correct way" was when we made the rule of no spinning. That’s when the game became more serious between the kids and dad. If you could beat dad, or humble him as mom would say, you would earn yourself a 5 bucks. All the money you would need for a night of sugar and friends in the basement keeping up mom and dad as we watched TV or played games. We would have to hit the power and run into my room when dad came down to make sure we were in bed. As for the memory of actually beating dad for the first time, I can’t recall. But it would have been a loud cheer from myself and a roar if frustration from dad as I ran to tell mom. And then dad would say good job and hug would soon follow.
When we first got the foosball table I was just tall enough to play. I do recall using the waffle blocks as boosters a time or two. At first we would play doubles a lot and somehow I always ended up on defense. It seemed a long time before I was able to make it up to the offense. Looking back now I realize that most of my points still come from behind mid field. It took me a really long time to make the switch of keeping on hand on the goalie (but not as long as becca). I remember there was a time in high school where Dad and I would play just about every night. It was a lot of fun (and good because I got out of dishes sometimes). It was alway an even match and no matter who one there was always someone grunt/yelling on the other side of the table.
Before we could see oer the sides at our regular height, Kaylene and I would build boxes to stand on out of the giant plastic puzzle peices. That way we wer just barely tall enough to play. The big goal was to finally beat dad and get the $5 reward. I was so excited when I finally won that I put the money in my scrapbook and it is still there. I also watched when kaylene won for the first time. The winning shot jumped up out of the table, hit one of the poles and bounced in the goal. It was ridiculous.
We got the foosball table for Christmas one year. We put it in the storage room with a blanket over it and even Megan couldn't find it. On Christmas Eve My Dad and I took it out and set it up in the basement. I played my dad that night - even with the kids asleep - and won with out any grunting or cheering. He has never played me again.
I have the best winning spot in the history of Jones Fooseball. It was against dad and was the first game i won against him. I won $5. The ball hit by the goal post, soared through the air to my offender, bounced off the bar, and promptly fell through the goal post.
I’m sure he went easy on all of you… yeah right! If he went easy on anyone, they would have been trained to go easy on the new guy. And well… when I was “the new guy”, that certainly didn’t happen to me.
I was one of the few children tall enough to play fooseball when we first got it. I played Dad a lot as a kid and I got pretty good. I think I did ever beat him, but that was before the $5.oo reward so it wasn't as memorable. What I do remember a lot is that when I got carpel tunnel the summer that I graduated from high school it ruined my the nerves in my wrists. I couldn't grib and twist the poles anymore and couldn't play fooseball. It was several years before I could play at all. By then any advantage that I had over the rest of the family was long gone and I've been the worst ever since.
Rule number one. No spinning. Rule number two. No standing at the front of the table and jump kicking the handles to make them spin. Looking back I don't know why rule number one didn't account for rule number two, but we needed both at the time. I don't know where Dad got is style, but he passed it on as though it were from world champion foosball players. Left hand on the goalie, right hand on everything else. We believed him of course because he always won. And we beat our friends, so we knew it was the correct way to play. Dad also taught us the correct way to humiliate your opponent. First play them with only one hand. (It is not that hard because all you really use is your right hand anyway, however the other player feels miserable about their subsequent loss). Second, play with only your left hand. Third, play with just one or two fingers. The progression works like a charm.
9 comments:
I remember playing under the foosball table for years until I could actually reach the handles and play. I recall roping up Kaylene or Becca to one of the legs during my pre foosball days.
Now when I was able to actually play the game I had the bad style of having my defense hand reversed on the handle, fingers going over and to the right instead of under and to the right. It was how I did things and it worked out alright for spinning. When I was forced to do it the "correct way" was when we made the rule of no spinning. That’s when the game became more serious between the kids and dad. If you could beat dad, or humble him as mom would say, you would earn yourself a 5 bucks. All the money you would need for a night of sugar and friends in the basement keeping up mom and dad as we watched TV or played games. We would have to hit the power and run into my room when dad came down to make sure we were in bed.
As for the memory of actually beating dad for the first time, I can’t recall. But it would have been a loud cheer from myself and a roar if frustration from dad as I ran to tell mom. And then dad would say good job and hug would soon follow.
When we first got the foosball table I was just tall enough to play. I do recall using the waffle blocks as boosters a time or two. At first we would play doubles a lot and somehow I always ended up on defense. It seemed a long time before I was able to make it up to the offense. Looking back now I realize that most of my points still come from behind mid field.
It took me a really long time to make the switch of keeping on hand on the goalie (but not as long as becca). I remember there was a time in high school where Dad and I would play just about every night. It was a lot of fun (and good because I got out of dishes sometimes). It was alway an even match and no matter who one there was always someone grunt/yelling on the other side of the table.
Before we could see oer the sides at our regular height, Kaylene and I would build boxes to stand on out of the giant plastic puzzle peices. That way we wer just barely tall enough to play. The big goal was to finally beat dad and get the $5 reward. I was so excited when I finally won that I put the money in my scrapbook and it is still there. I also watched when kaylene won for the first time. The winning shot jumped up out of the table, hit one of the poles and bounced in the goal. It was ridiculous.
We got the foosball table for Christmas one year. We put it in the storage room with a blanket over it and even Megan couldn't find it. On Christmas Eve My Dad and I took it out and set it up in the basement. I played my dad that night - even with the kids asleep - and won with out any grunting or cheering. He has never played me again.
Dad
I have the best winning spot in the history of Jones Fooseball. It was against dad and was the first game i won against him. I won $5. The ball hit by the goal post, soared through the air to my offender, bounced off the bar, and promptly fell through the goal post.
I’m sure he went easy on all of you… yeah right! If he went easy on anyone, they would have been trained to go easy on the new guy. And well… when I was “the new guy”, that certainly didn’t happen to me.
I was one of the few children tall enough to play fooseball when we first got it. I played Dad a lot as a kid and I got pretty good. I think I did ever beat him, but that was before the $5.oo reward so it wasn't as memorable. What I do remember a lot is that when I got carpel tunnel the summer that I graduated from high school it ruined my the nerves in my wrists. I couldn't grib and twist the poles anymore and couldn't play fooseball. It was several years before I could play at all. By then any advantage that I had over the rest of the family was long gone and I've been the worst ever since.
Dang you Wells Fargo!
Rule number one. No spinning. Rule number two. No standing at the front of the table and jump kicking the handles to make them spin. Looking back I don't know why rule number one didn't account for rule number two, but we needed both at the time.
I don't know where Dad got is style, but he passed it on as though it were from world champion foosball players. Left hand on the goalie, right hand on everything else. We believed him of course because he always won. And we beat our friends, so we knew it was the correct way to play.
Dad also taught us the correct way to humiliate your opponent. First play them with only one hand. (It is not that hard because all you really use is your right hand anyway, however the other player feels miserable about their subsequent loss). Second, play with only your left hand. Third, play with just one or two fingers. The progression works like a charm.
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