Yang Ching-shun, Son of Pool-- It's a Wonderful Life

The once and lonely lion...

People from ten to 40 years old have elected to spend this weekend night knocking balls around at Chiusheng Pool Hall in Taipei City's Hsimenting. They enjoy the crisp sound of balls rolling across cloth and clicking into each other. Weekend nights are busiest and of half the 40 tables in this pool hall are being used. When not shooting the ball, the fag-dragging players are shooting the bull.

Yang drops coins into a vending machine, then pops the tab on the resultant canned coffee and tosses it back. He generally spends time with his fans, but today, he seems to have retreated into his own little world. He picks up a ball and rolls it across the table. The moment it stops, he begins potting the balls in order from one to nine.

Losses take the wind out of his sails, he explains. When that happens, the King of Nine Ball holes up in a secluded corner to lick his wounds like some injured animal until he's ready to come back out again.

Earlier this evening in the last competition of the year, held in a film studio with a corrugated roof in Sanchung, Taiwan's top-ranking pool players went at it tooth and nail. Yang won his first game with ease--a good sign for him, as he prefers to stay in front. But bad positioning in the second game and his opponent snatched the next five games and the lead. Yang fought hard to bring the score to seven apiece, but in the end still lost.

He realizes that his focus was off. "I was sitting there waiting my turn, but my mind just kept wandering," explains Yang as he practices. Three days of competition doesn't give players much time to adjust. A loss on the second day caused Yang more anguish and for the same reason. "I let a good opportunity slip through my fingers!"

He continues, "This wasn't the most important contest of the year." Competitions are held in Taiwan and abroad throughout the year. He can't always be at the top of his game. Even so, disappointment and self-blame are visible in his eyes. Having just come north the day before, after signing a few autographs he exchanges his competition shirt and vest for a Versace pullover and jeans and hurries off with his girlfriend to catch a late train back to Kaohsiung.

Chao Fong-pang (right), a.k.a. Cold-Blooded Killer, is both friend and mentor to Yang Ching-shun, a.k.a. Son of Pool. Chao, also from Kaohsiung, has been a major player on Taiwan's pool circuit over the past decade.

In 2005, Taiwan's Son of Pool racked up seven first places both in Taiwan and abroad, including the Kaohsiung leg of the San Miguel Asian Nine-Ball Tour, which marked the end of an exhausting competitive year.

The next evening, Yang appeared at his own pool hall where he chatted with friends. "Nobody thinks of me as a celebrity here," he says. Finally, after rushing about all year, Yang feels the pressure of competition lift from his shoulders and has reclaimed his old love of the game. Once again, he's that young lad just given permission from mother to focus on his game.

After his parents, originally from the Yencheng District, separated when Yang was still very young, he and his mother only had each other. His mother, a determined and traditional woman, took care of the books in a restaurant. When he fell in love with the game in the fifth grade, she personally went with him to pool halls to make sure the environment was appropriate.

After graduating from elementary school, Yang played pool for an entire year without going to school, with his mother's tacit consent. "I told my mother that I wanted to do what I really liked doing." Although he later returned to school for almost a year, he would later opt to drop out to concentrate on his game.

"Looking back, I think my mother felt that her marriage was already bad enough. She really didn't want to ask too much of me."

His mother saw that he loved billiards and although she hoped with all her heart that he would stay in school and was disappointed when he didn't, she gradually became his staunchest supporter. "My mother worked long hours and rarely had days off. She worked from ten to ten. She had it hard," Yang recalls, "but she knew my choice and after making sure the environment was suitable, she just wanted me to apply myself to learning the game."

Backed by his steadfast mother, Yang Ching-shun's unparalleled skills came to the fore. In 1993, after only three short years and winning the National Kuangfu Open, 15-year old Yang went pro. From then on, his hobby had become his work, filled with both glory and responsibility.

The following year, Yang once again brought home the gold from the National Chungcheng Cup and became the first seeded player in Taiwan. The Son of Pool was gaining fame.

"Competition runs contrary to my personality," he explains, "but as a player, it's unavoidable."

After winning his first international competition--the Men's Division of the Japan Osaka Open, in 1996--he aspired to win at least one international competition each year. These past ten years, this southerner with a bashful smile and Taiwanese twang has done just that. He has never forgotten to share with his mother the considerable prize monies that he has accumulated over the years.

Accustomed to breaking from the left, Yang once won two games in competition play by sinking the nine ball on the break--a feat rarely witnessed in Taiwan. His formula for sinking so many balls on the break: experience plus power.

The cue is held directly below the center of your face and bridged up by your fingers. Your chin, the cue, and the target ball form a straight line. Like any other popular sport, the basics of pool aren't all that difficult. "The fundamentals are easy, but to go professional, you still need the right stuff," points out Li Ya-jen, national-level pool coach and long-time observer of Yang Ching-shun.

Li points out Yang's gift gives him an edge in the game and can best be summed up as skilled use of the wrist, an explosive break, and a thorough understanding of the game. "More importantly, years of hard training have given him the best cue technique in the country. He employs english very skillfully in competitions," relates Li. "Today, his name is held in awe. Many players prefer to opt out of international matches rather than go toe-to-toe with Yang."

Angle and power. When all is said and done, pool is a game of physics. After calculating the angle and power to be applied to the cue ball, Yang relies on experience and intuition. The superior hand-eye coordination, deft wrist, and nerves of steel of this diamond-in-the-rough were already in evidence.

Many people, in addition to his mother, have influenced him in his long pool career. Of these "Chao Fong-pang has molded my style more than anyone. He coached me from when I was 15 up to when I was released from military duty."

Chao Fong-pang, a.k.a. "Cold-Blooded Killer," at one time ranked top in the world three years running, and he was a star on Taiwan's pool circuit before Yang came along. In the late 90s, after cable television began producing and broadcasting pool competitions in Taiwan, Chao became the first idol for many of Taiwan's pool enthusiasts.

The master-pupil relationship of these two pool champions began when Yang was 15. Just coming into his own, Yang attracted a great deal of attention from some of the greats. Much like Yang, when he was younger, Chao had a difficult time convincing his family to allow him to play, so when he saw the potential in this "unpolished piece of jade," it was like looking into a mirror at a younger version of himself.

After taking Yang on as his apprentice, Chao began to attend to the details of Yang's life and competitions, even paying his living expenses. For his part, Yang determined to pay Chao back from his winnings as a show of appreciation before leaving the military.

Chao, then at the zenith of his career, had extremely high standards for his pupil.

"Coach was very strict. As well as making sure I practiced every day, he trained me in the art of getting along with people and in this world." Knowing that fame was imminent for his young pupil, Cold-Blooded Killer continually admonished him on the importance of humility, urging him not to grow cocky after he achieved success and fame. At the behest of his teacher, Yang doesn't imbibe, keeps regular hours, and strives to lead a simple life. "He would even require that I tell him who I went out with and where we went. He didn't allow me to hang out with questionable characters."

"I'm no celebrity and I'm still young," explains the normally low-key Yang Ching-shun. An illustrated book about Yang, published at the insistence of his agent three years ago, flew off bookstore shelves, hinting at the huge popularity of the "Son of Pool."

Whether practicing or competing, dropping out of junior high school, stepping out into society at a very young age, a ten-plus year relationship with his coach, and self-study all came together in the pool hall. "People have had a strong bias against kids that play pool, especially in the past. They thought they were bad." He asserts, "But for me, it had just the opposite effect. When I was 13 and 14, my friends were adults and that fact pushed me to grow up faster and put away childish things."

Because of his character, he looked for a stable personality when later in the market for a girlfriend. He says he doesn't intend to step up to the altar until his career is over, but when his stunningly beautiful girlfriend isn't running her beauty salon, she is already playing the role of daughter-in-law to Yang's mother.

"Players compete a lot and cracks can appear in your relationship easily if your partner isn't mature enough," Yang explains. "Besides, I'm frequently away competing and my mom isn't in the best of health. Having my girlfriend take care of her puts my mind at ease."

The slender Yang looks like just another young guy in the pool halls that he frequents, but it's hard to not notice his oiled-back hair and resolute gaze when he's competing. Figures by Star Sports show that since TV stations in Taiwan began broadcasting professional pool competitions in 1997, ratings are higher for events in which Yang Ching-shun competes than for those in which he does not.

Pool lovers need him. The country needs him. The media needs him. In recent years, players from Taiwan have been bringing home a lot of gold from international matches, but when you look at competitions won, total winnings, and attention from the media, Yang is winner hands down.

"The Magician"--Yang's long time opponent-cum-friend from the Philippines, Efren Reyes--contends that Yang is the world's undisputed king of nine ball.

But Yang, who has his own clearly defined opinions, just shakes off praise of this sort. "I just believe that you get out what you put in, so even when you're at the top, you can't slack off or you'll find that somebody else has taken your place."

Yang Ching-shun may have impeccable technique, but he isn't without fault. Tsou Ming-te, another national-level coach and long-time observer of Yang, has noticed that whenever Yang falls far behind in a match, "He tends to throw in the towel way too early. He could do with a little more will to fight."

Yang admits that his attitude isn't what it used to be. When your passion becomes your job and you find yourself on the circuit competing day in and day out, you lose your zeal. "I've talked with my coach about this. We've seen the focus and singlemindedness of the 'Taishan Kid,' Wu Chia-ching [16-year-old winner of the 2005 World Youth Billiards Competition], but it's difficult to get back that attitude that pool is everything. We find ourselves spending more and more time contemplating things like 'Where do we go from here?' 'Is there a future for us in this line of work?' and 'What will we do when we stop playing or when we can't win any more?'"

Accustomed to breaking from the left, Yang once won two games in competition play by sinking the nine ball on the break--a feat rarely witnessed in Taiwan. His formula for sinking so many balls on the break: experience plus power.

"Much like baseball and basketball players in Taiwan, television has made pool players into public figures, but this doesn't seem to be guarantee enough for the vast majority of them," explains Tu Yung-hui, deputy director of the Chinese Taipei Pool Association.

Long ago, Tu, who also runs a pool hall, began helping the association and a cable TV company to arrange the televising of competitions. Since 1997, they have been creating stars, which has been instrumental in boosting pool hall business. Pool being made an official event in international competitions, such as the Asian Games in 1999, has also flamed the passion of Taiwanese for the game. Its popularity peaked in 2001 with Chao Fong-pang winning the world championship. Ratings for televised games and pool hall business, however, have been tapering off along with the decline in pool's novelty. To attract business in Hsimenting, which has the highest concentration of pool halls in Taipei, prices have been slashed from NT$3 to NT$1.5 per minute.

Yang Ching-shun, who has also invested in a pool hall, feels that pool has brought him celebrity and wealth, but whether he runs his own shop, competes, or works as a coach, it doesn't seem to be a long-term thing.

Having seen a number of top-notch players fall into oblivion never to rise again, Yang discloses that he's not at all taken with the idea of becoming another fallen and forgotten hero. "I won't wait until I start going downhill before I leave," asserts Yang as he prepares to break.

Yang Ching-shun doesn't like losing and is already preparing for next year's Asian Games. His objective: taking three in a row. At 28, the final word in the history of his brilliant achievements has yet to be written.

Accustomed to breaking from the left, Yang once won two games in competition play by sinking the nine ball on the break--a feat rarely witnessed in Taiwan. His formula for sinking so many balls on the break: experience plus power.

Sitting quietly in a corner of a pool hall after exchanging his competition gear for a pullover, Yang Ching-shun still exudes elan.