War Stories, None by Oliver North

Me & Sugar Shack in Oklahoma City

2008-05-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

I went to Oklahoma City in the early 70s and hung around Chester Truelove's pool room at 50th and May. One-Eyed- Tony Howard from Hazard, KY was still alive at the time and he was playing there too. I was on the road with the famous tush-hog, Sugar Shack Johnny Novak, but OK city at that time was still the scariest place I was ever in. There was a "range" war going on between the North and South side stick-up gangs, and Sugar and I were in the middle of it. Everybody had a gun but us.

A very bad gunman named Boatware had stolen my Ginacue and Sugar Shack was terrorizing all the bars in town trying to find him and get the cue back. I knew how dangerous Boatware was, and my nerves were in a constant state of shock. For some reason it didnt affect my pool game, as a matter of fact I never played better in my life! It's probably something a psychiatrist should study and look into. Finally, Boatware shows up at Trueloves, and has nine more brutes from the gang with him. They all had cue butts and Blackjacks, and Boatware had a .38 long. I figured this was it, and hoping maybe I could escape with a few broken bones.

To speed this up, Boatware called to Johnny, "You looking for me?" Johnny's reply, "Yes, I certainly am. I want that cue stick back!" Boatware opened his shirt and flashed the .38 in his pants. Boatware, "You ready to die for it?" Sugar Shack, "Yeah, show me a bullet!" Crazy as Boatware was, he realized Sugar was even nuttier, so he took another path. Among the nine cohorts was a famous tush-hog from Arkansas named Dennis Parker. He was about 6'4" and weighed about 240 lbs. Boatware, "You want the cuestick? He got it." pointing to Dennis Parker. Goofy as Sugar Shack was, fighting some big gorilla was a better option than trying to outrun a .38 slug.

Sugar Shack, "You mean all I got to do to get the cuestick is whip him? Ok, I'll meet him anywhere he wants, just him and me, and we will fight to the death for that cuestick!" Now big Dennis was no coward, but sanity was now starting to infect these lunatics. Fighting "to the death" for a piece of wood just didnt seem like a good idea. Boatware, now sensing that move wasn’t going to work either, next told Sugar to meet him out on some point on the highway about 9 PM and he would give him the cuestick. With that we all dispersed.

I begged Johnny not to go, I said it has to be a trap. He went anyway, met Boatware, Boatware gave him back the cuestick that he had stolen from me, said to meet him later at some action bar and he would dump his backer to us. We went, and he did (about $600), and we all would up getting drunk together. To close, now that all the horror was over, and the town was tame again, Sugar Shack wanted to leave, so we went back to Florida.

Now, about the earlier part when I said all that fear made me play my best: Old-timers know how good One- Eyed- Tony Howard and Norman Hitchcock played, I was robbing Tony Howard giving him his scratches dont count and he would play me 8 to 6. I was playing Hitch One Pocket on that real tough pocket table 10 to 8 -- me spotting him -- for thousand dollar sets! Now Tony is long dead, but Hitch is still alive(no longer) to confirm my story. They were both in Trueloves when Boatware came in with his boys. Boatware was later arrested in a shoot out with police at a motel and given a long prison term.

MORE SUGAR SHACK......

So. Carolina’s David Sizemore, played a nice game of 9 Ball, and had a reputation of being wild and crazy. He once cut a friend of mine, another So. Car. boy, David Gadsden’s throat. My friend was lucky and survived. In Johnston City IL, while playing the deadly, Hubert "Daddy Warbucks" Cokes, he missed a shot and smashed his cue stick. He was still carrying the jagged edge around while he ranted and raved. He came within a inch of getting his head blown off, as Hubert thought Sizemore might have been threatening him, and Hubert carried no less than three pistols on his person at all times. Lucky for Sizemore, a local grifter cooled Hubert out, saying David was harmless and was only mad at himself. Once Sizemore realized his mistake he dropped that broken cue like it was on fire and apologized to Hubert profusely.

Here's the addendum to the dangerous, Sizemore, Johnston City connection. The same year Sizemore almost got killed by Hubert Cokes in Johnston City, David asked my old road partner, the equally dangerous, Sugar Shack Johnny Novak, to give him some money to play Gin in the back room of the Show Lounge. Johnny gave him $300 with the instructions that he could play anybody in the room except, Jersey Red. Jack Breit.

Johnny left for the bar and returned a couple hours later to find Sizemore playing Gin with, who else but, Jersey Red. He asked Sizemore how he was doing, David replied that Red was beating him, and had him on his last game. With that, Sugar Shack gave Sizemore a backhand that sent him flying across the room and crashing into the wall. When Sizemore got up, he did nothing but apologize. Many sweators who knew of David's reputation warned me that he would sneak up on Johnny and get revenge. Knowing both parties, David, while a genuine lunatic, knew that Sugar Shack was a much worse lunatic, and was tickled pink to get off with just a ferocious slap and was content to end everything right there. Sugar Shack had a way to make many "crazy" people suddenly decide to become sane. Sizemore was eventually murdered while still a young man.

The Easiest and also the Worst Job in the World

2008-05-30T08:56:00.000-07:00

That probably belonged to Corky Eubank, the younger brother of one of the premier old-time hustlers, Sammy Eubank of Little Rock, AR. The preamble to this story is Corky’s prior job attempt for Sammy. Corky’s booze and dope habit was well known to brother Sam when Corky approached him for a little help in the career department. Sammy realistically knew Corky wasn’t fit to do too many things so he tried to make things as simple and easy as possible. After all, blood should look after blood. The job was this: at 3 pm every day, Corky was to pick up Sammy’s kids from school and drive them home -- about 20 minutes each way. For this he would receive $100 a day. There was a stipulation though. Corky must be sober and totally clean for the trip, with Sammy inspecting him thoroughly upon his return. Breathalyzer and eyeball check was taken for granted. Any violation of such would be subject to a pistol whipping. This job proved to be too demanding, and Corky packed it in after only three days. Three in the afternoon was just too long a time to wait between hits. If Sammy could find a school that let the kids out around 11 am, Corky thought he could probably handle that.

This all occurred back in the 80s when Sammy was staying in the suburbs of Chicago, hustling with his lifelong partner, Dale Smith. Sammy and Dale were fearless hustlers, and they even went so far as to prey on various Outfit joints throughout the mobbed-up suburbs. They had been warned to leave the robbing of the customers to the Outfit themselves, but Sammy and Dale flew no flags, took no prisoners, and paid no heed. They had a, "suckers belong to the whole world" philosophy.
Philosophy notwithstanding, being on the wrong side of mob Whack man Joey the Clown, did cause Sammy some paranoid apprehensions. He dealt with those in a very practical way, he paid his brother Corky $300 a week to start his car every morning. I had stayed over at his house a few nights so I got to witness the show first hand, and believe me it was hilarious. Sammy would give Corky the keys, and then he would lay down (I would too) on the floor until the car was safely started. This ritual was repeated daily.

I asked Sammy how he could let his little brother do such a job. He reminded me that Corky wasn’t very talented and he had already tried him at other things including the school pickup thing, plus he only had to work about 10 minutes a week for the $300. I guess that was a pretty high pay scale if you thought about it.

Benny the Goose Conway

2008-05-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

Here is a link to a great story about the iracible hustler, Benny the Goose Conway. Http://www.tampabilliards.com/goose.html

ROAD PLAYER the Danny DiLiberto Story

2008-05-30T08:46:00.000-07:00

ROAD PLAYER: The Danny DiLiberto Story
By Jerry Forsyth
A lifetime of stories from the vibrant memory of Danny DiLiberto, one of Accu-Stats Video’s most popular commentators. DiLiberto was one of the fabled road players, beginning with the Johnston City Hustler’s Tournaments. He excelled in four sports: baseball, bowling, boxing, and pool. Boxing was his first love, but his own hands could not stand the power of his blows. He was forced to quit because he punched so hard that he kept breaking the bones in his hands. Pool gave him the greatest fame and that’s what this book is about. From Las Vegas to Hollywood to the smallest towns on the most distant highways, this is the life of the roadman. A gambler’s tale in his own words. $19.95
Excerpt from my book, The GosPool According To The Beard:
"Most Talented Pool Player"
Probably Danny Diliberto from Buffalo, NY. Danny could run over 200 balls and was undefeated in 14 pro fights (12-0-2). Diliberto was an AA minor-league baseball player and a 200 average bowler who once bowled a perfect 300 game. Danny had a phenomenal throwing arm. He could throw a golf ball farther than anybody in the world. Danny could make a field goal on a football field with a golf ball by throwing it 100 yards through the goal-post uprights. He won the money doing that at Johnston City, IL. in the '60s. Later, he trapped the late Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle at a Fort Lauderdale bar during Yankee spring training. Danny bet Maris he could throw a golf ball farther than Roger could.
Diliberto won the bet from an amazed Maris by throwing the ball all the way across the waters of the Fort Lauderdale Causeway on Highway A1A. If I remember right, Roger didn't even take his turn and tried to renege and call off the bet. Danny, who had a punch that could down an elephant, stood his ground and finally got paid."

Http://www.bankingwiththebeard.com/books.html

Bunny Rogoff's nite club act (audio feed only)

2008-05-22T06:22:00.000-07:00

Part 1. approx. 20 mins. Bunny Pots & Pans Rogoff's niteclub act, complete with music. (slightly off-color, but you shoulda heard the original before I censored it!) clik to play.

Rogoff's nite club act part 2 audio feed only

2008-05-22T06:21:00.000-07:00

Interview with Bunny Rogoff by R Givens part 1

2008-05-18T15:46:00.000-07:00

Bunny as Charlie Chaplin

Bunny The Rogue aka Pots & Pans
An interview with Bernard "Bunny" Rogoff by Randi Givens © 1993.

R Givens: How did you get your nickname?
Bunny Rogoff: I got the name because when I was about 3 they dressed me
up like a rabbit during Easter. That's when my family began calling me

Bunny. It just stuck.
RG: So you had a nickname before you started playing pool.
BR: Yeah, but my nickname playing pool was Pots and Pans.
RG: How did that happen?
BR: It was my first trip to Johnston City and I was hustling cookware. I

stopped in the Show Bar about three days before the tournament and

some guy offered to play for $40 against the cookware. I was paying

$20 for the cookware, so the guy is laying me 2-1 on the money.

Willie Mosconi can't beat me giving odds like that. Anyway, I beat the

fellow out of the $40 and we began playing for $50 cash instead of the

cookware. I won $500. His name was Louie Reed. He was an oil millionaire

from Ducoin, Illinois. After I beat him, he shook my hand and bought me a

drink. "Man you are the greatest. Where are you from," "I'm from Pittsburgh,"

I told him. "Well, I don't know about that, but you my man, are the

Pots and Pans Man." That name has stuck with me ever since. That

happened over 30 years ago and I'm still known as "Pots and Pans."
RG: What kind of cue do you use?
BR: I always use a house cue off the rack.
RG: What do you look for when you pick a house cue?
BR: Well, I usually sneak my own house cue in.
RG: How did you get started playing pool?
BR: When I was 14 years old, I was walking up the street and I heard

clicking noises. I looked inside and in the back of a barbershop there

were three tables side by side. When the barber wasn't looking, I

walked in the back. It fascinated me when I saw the balls. There was a

fellow about my age practicing, so I started playing with him. The owner,

the barber, didn't know I was back there. Finally, he came back and

saw us playing. I was playing his son. Anyway, they invited me back

and that's when I started playing.
RG: Were you immediately interested?
BR: Oh, yes. I was fascinated right off the get go. Not only that, I

had been hanging around with a bad crowd, so it did me a world

of good. I might have got into some drastic trouble if I hadn't

discovered pool. I was from was the Hill District in Pittsburgh,

a middle class neighborhood, but there were some gangs and kids
getting into trouble. Pool took me away from all that.
RG: That runs contrary to the image of the game. Pool is

supposed to lead people astray, not the other way around.
BR: Right. But, pool kept me out of trouble.
RG: How did your game develop?
BR: My Dad used to give me 50¢ for lunch and I'd hook school

on Fridays. We used to go to the movie, but that opened at 11

in the morning and the pool hall opened at 8. There were other

kids there too and we used to play pool. If you didn't win, you

didn't eat and you didn't go to the movie. So I got under pressure

at an early age, if you know what I mean. I became acclimated to

gambling and playing under pressure.
RG: How did your game progress?
BR: It took a couple of years to become a good shooter. But more

than being a good player, I knew how to get good games.
RG: So within two years, you began playing good?
BR: Yeah. Well, I played my best pool when I came out of the Navy

when I was about 22. I went in the Navy when I was 17. I was in from

1944-46. I came out for a year then I went back in. I put in five years

altogether. I played my best pool when I came out after my second hitch.
RG: What kind of games did you play then?
BR: Mostly 9–ball and 8–ball.
RG: Did anybody teach you how to play?
BR: Nobody showed me anything. I learned by watching and playing

with good players. Anytime I could play a good player, I'd do it. But

they never showed me anything. I just watched them. Of course, I never

gambled with the better players.
RG: If you had an instructor would you have progressed faster?
BR: Oh, definitely! You have to have a certain amount of aptitude,

but it's more practice than anything.
RG: So you reached a professional level when you were 22?
BR: Oh, no. I just played my best 9 ball at that age. I didn't really

learn until later on. About five years after that I learned safety and

all of that. Up until then I just played runout 9 ball. Of course, they

never played one foul then. It was all pushout.
RG: What's the difference between pushout and one foul?
BR: When you play push out you have to be a real good shotmaker.

More so than in one foul.
RG: Did you ever play other games like 3 cushion billiards?
BR: I hit 'em around once in a while, but I never really played the

game. Mainly because the 3 cushion players never bet unless

they were champions.
RG: You have a reputation as a great game maker. Tell us about it.
BR: Well, I hustled pool all my life, but I always worked. I was selling

Mirro Cookware. I would bring the cookware in and set it on the

table and show everybody my business card. I'd tell them the stuff

was left over from the home show and that we normally sold them for

$60, but because they were left over we were letting them go for $40.

I'd never say anything about playing pool. But most of the time someone

would challenge me to play for the cookware. They'd put up $40 and

the cookware only cost me $20. They were giving me 2-1 on the money

and hardly anyone can beat me that way. You'd be surprised at the

people who couldn't even run three balls who tried to win that cookware

set. Occasionally, I'd run into good players, but it didn't matter because

they were giving me 2-1 on the money. But most of the time I'd catch

people who couldn't play at all. I never mentioned gambling or anything.

I would approach them, tell them what I had and start for the door if no

one seemed interested. One of the guys would always say, "Hey, I'll play

a game of pool for that cookware." So that was my gimmick to get people

to play. I sold a lot of cookware too. I was underselling the stores. I was

making my expenses with the pots and pans, but I made more on the pool

tables. Selling cookware meant that I always had money in my pocket, so

I was never under pressure. I didn't have to worry about going broke
because I always had merchandise to sell.
RG: Tell us about your disguises.
BR: I used to use a truck driver's uniform with a big wallet on a chain. I got

a truck driver's uniform from Sears. I'd come out of that long wallet with

a $20 bill and people would think there were thousands in there. I don't

know why that is, but people think there's a lot in one of those big wallets.

So I'd go in and flash some Money. I had a real good gimmick for getting

people down. If I saw two guys playing for $5 a game, I'd watch them for

a while to make sure I could win. Then I'd go up to the table and challenge

them for a drink. The guy would say, "Hey, we're playing for $5 a game."

So I'd walk away from the table and wait about ten minutes before
I went back and challenged them for a drink again. People would get

indignant. They'd say, "We're playing for $5. If you want to challenge,

you've got to play for $5!" That's when I'd put the move on them. I'd say,

"I don't gamble, but if you want to bet, I'll go you one for $55." Then I'd

turn around and walk back to the bar like I was bluffing. All of a sudden

they'd come right out with the money and play for $50. A move like this

is very strong because you originally wanted to play for a drink and
then you came back asking to play for $55. It's a hell of a psychological

move. If people have money, there's no way they won't play in that spot.

They always stop you before you get back to the bar.
RG: You are one of the master psychologists of game making. Could

you tell us about that?
BR: I learned those moves from watching people who couldn't play.

They were suckers. They were the ones who came up with the moves.

I had been playing for $10 a game and had a sucker come up. We told

him "We are playing for $10 a game." So the guy says, "Well, I'll play

you one for a $100." But the guy was bluffing and when I agreed to play

he would just walk away. That's where I got that move from. The only

difference is that I wasn't bluffing. The players thought I was trying to

save face when I didn't back down. RG: I must admit that it's one of

the best tactics for starting a money game that I've ever seen. I busted

a few joints using the same method.
RG: Tell us more about the action you got into.
BR: I got trapped one time in Miami. I have a gimmick where I put a

patch over the guy's eye and spot him the five and the break playing

9–ball. If the guy plays my speed, I figure to beat him like that because

you can't judge distance and depth. It throws you way off. So I'm giving

this black guy down in Miami the five and the break. I play him safe

on the end rail and boom, he pops the eight in. I figured he must have

lucked the ball in. The next game, boom, he pops the five in from the
end rail. That's when I realized my mistake. I told him, "Man, if you want

to play anymore, you have to put the patch on the other eye. I know you

are blind in one eye."
RG: One-eyed players seem to cut the balls pretty good.
BR: They shoot good. the only thing they can't do is long distance shots.

I know people with one eye and they can't shoot long shots. It tires them

in a long session. RG: 8 ball has always been the main game in bars.

What do you think about 8 ball?
BR: I always wanted to play 8 ball because if you play 9 ball with a

mediocre player you lose when you don't run out from the 4 or 5 ball.

But in 8 ball you never have to run more than three balls to win. You

keep blocking the pockets and make sure they can't get out. That

way you don't expose yourself.
RG: Do you have any advice for playing 8 ball?
BR: I break and look at the table. If in my mind I wouldn't bet even

money that I could run out, then I don't even try to get out. I'm talking

about playing with a good player. Against a person who can't play,

I never try to run out from the break. But against good players, unless

I can bet even money that I'll get out, I won't even try. It's like playing

checkers. If you are one ball up and you keep trading off, when
you come down to the end you'll get the first shot to win the game.

You try to get his balls off then you play safe. I like to make my

opponent's balls and leave my balls where he has no shots. Now

he can't win because I have too many options for playing safe.
8 ball is the best game in the world to play. Actually, one pocket

is the best game, but very few people play it. 8 ball is played

everywhere. When they came up with one foul 8 ball that was the

best thing that ever happened to the game because I play a lot of

strategy.
RG: What do you think about call shot 8 ball?
BR: You get too many beefs with that game. A guy will say,

"You hit the wrong ball. It didn't go the way you called it." There's

too many arguments when you have to call everything.
RG: How long were you on the road?
BR: Off and on, my whole life, except when I was married.

I was still hustling, but I stayed in Miami and worked as a bellhop.

I did that for 15 years. I didn't make any road trips, but after work

I'd go around the bars a lot. RG: Who were some of your opponents?
BR: Well, no one ever beat me playing 8 ball in a bar. Not when I

was playing my best. Of course, I didn't go around looking for

champions either. I ran into some good players by accident, but

if I knew a guy was a strong player I wouldn't mess with him.
I trapped a lot of people getting odds. I was real good at that. I'd

try to get the last ball off or something like that. I'd put on a little show

with somebody. I'd spread and they'd beat me the first game. I'd act

like I was scared and end up getting a couple of balls off. This was

years ago, so they didn't know what balls off meant. Even strong

players didn't know the strength of getting balls off in 8 ball.
RG: Tell us about putting out a spread.
BR: I'd have somebody who knows me go in there and play the

guy we're trying to catch. They'd play for $5 a game or whatever.

Then I'd come in with my routine about wanting to play for a drink.

So I'd get down with my buddy for a $105 and have him beat me

in front of the guy we're trying to catch. I'd let the sucker hold the

money. So my buddy says, "OK I'll give you the last two balls." I

say, "No, I've got to have the last three." So in the second game

my pal beats me real bad. I'm not playing at all. Then he shoots

at my ball and plays a safety. Now this is years before they played

one foul. So he shoots my ball to play safe and I start screaming
that he doesn't play fair. He beats me that game and I quit.
So my friend says, "Alright, we'll play so that if I hit your ball, you

can put the cue ball anywhere." I'd say, "No, you shot my ball. I

quit." So then the guy we're trying to catch jumps up and offers

me two balls off. I say, "OK, but if you don't hit your ball, I can set

the cue ball anywhere." Like I just picked the idea up from my

friend. If we play that way, I can beat the guy with no strain.

With the last three, there's no way you can lose on a bar table,

unless you fall dead. With the last two off, there's a chance a

champion might beat you. But with the last three, I ain't never

been beat. I trapped Keith McCready a while back. He gave me

the last three balls and went broke. That's strong. But on a big

table you can still lose. I learned how to play 8 ball from the blacks

in the Hill District. They knew all the moves.
RG: What's the difference between 8 ball on a big table and a

bar table?
BR: There's not a big advantage in getting balls off on a big table

for me because I don't figure to get out. You have to run out. You

can't stall on a big table because the balls are open. They aren't

clustered. Because the balls are a lot more congested on a bar

table there's a lot more safety play. On the bar table, if you don't

get all the way out, you're going to lose against a good player.

The biggest mistake is trying to run out when you can't get out.

You may look like a champion and lose. The guy who moves well

may not look like he can play, but he wins.
I played a black guy called "Country." (Charles "Country" Monroe

from NY) He played strong 8 ball. He played where you could shoot

at any ball. You could shoot the other guy's balls in and there was no

cue ball in hand. He robbed me like that because if you play shoot

at anything, there's no advantage in strategy. When we played by

my rules, he had no chance. A guy came down to Miami from Canada

when I was playing good. I was playing snooker everyday on a 6 x 12. I

played by his rules where the cue ball doesn't have to hit a rail and he

robbed me. Then we played where a ball did have to hit a rail
and he couldn't beat me. It's just what you're used to playing.

to be continued... end of part 1

Interview with Bunny Rogoff by R Givens part 2

2008-05-18T15:45:00.000-07:00

Willie Mosconi & Norman "the Jockey" Howard

Bunny The Rogue aka Pots & Pans

RG: Do you have any guidelines for playing 8 ball?
BR: Don't try to run out and try to make your opponent's balls. I play combinations with my balls to make his. Get his balls off to where he has nothing to hide behind. Then you have all the opportunities to play safe. That's strong. I have a rule for playing people that can't play at all. I believe that a first impression is a lasting impression. Anything you do immediately after you make a game will be remembered. Like if I win the toss to break, I might let the cue stick fly. Just let it go when I break the balls. Look like an idiot. Sometimes I come back and run the cue stick into the side of the table. You get everybody in the joint laughing at you. I'd give them the impression that I was helpless, not all there, or a drunk. Here's another good move. When you don't play cue ball in hand and you play from behind the line on scratches, you don't put the cue ball up near the line the way everybody does. You put the cue ball back near the end rail and shoot from there. (Bunny illustrates the idea with an a object ball a couple of inches from the foot rail about a foot from the pocket. A moderate cut shot.) If you put the cue ball on the line and make the shot, they figure you can play a little. But if you act like an idiot and put the cue ball on the rail and make the shot, they won't think anything of it. It doesn't matter if you make it because you were an idiot to put the cue ball in a bad position. That's a real strong move. I've used it a hundred times.
RG: So your main concern was concealing your speed?
BR: Right. Exactly. I was making people bet more than they wanted to. That was another thing. If you get a $5 player to betting $50, he'll stay with you because he knows in his mind that he plays better than you do. But he's dogging it because of the big money. He can't play his game. I'd make them overbet so they're not playing their game. But in their mind they know they are the better player. That's what keeps them playing.
RG: Do you have any advice for playing on bar tables?
BR: Follow the ball for position instead of drawing it. Of course, it's harder to follow a ball three rails than to draw it most of the time. It's easier to draw a lot of the time, but people who can't play don't realize that. You scare them off when you use draw. When you start drawing the length of the table, they get leery.
RG: Tell us about the scores you made over the years.
BR: The most I ever won was $10,000 right here in Las Vegas. As much hustling as I did, I should have won more than that at one time or another. I just wasn't at the right place at the right time. Once I was playing a guy in Carlsbad, CA, who owned a bar there. He was a golfer who loved to play pool. I was playing for $600 a game. That was the most I ever played for. I got to drinking too much——this will probably never happen again—— he quit me because he didn't want to take advantage of me.
RG: You overdid the act.
BR: I was there by myself and I was betting 20 guys on the side. I had the money in a telephone book on different pages and got too drunk to keep track of all thebets. The owner wouldn't take advantage of me and he quit. When I counted my money I was only $300 up. If I had someone to take care of the bets or I hadn't got so drunk, I could have made a real nice score.
RG: I met you when you were hustling around Chicago.
BR: That was one of the best cities I ever played in, that and Detroit. They were the best. You didn't have any hassles. I got in very few fights or anything in the bars at that time. Nowadays, I wouldn't go near those bars.
RG: Did you have many fights hustling in bars?
BR: For the amount of time I spent in bars there were very few. I knew how to avoid them. I could talk my way out of it. And I didn't play when I thought there might be trouble. I had a gimmick when there was big money in a bar where there might be trouble. I'd go in and lose a few games and tell the guy, "I'd really like to play some more, but I've got to meet somebody at Joe's Bar. Usually the guy would agree to play over there. So I'd move the game into a safe place to play. If I'm winning, I buy the house a round of drinks, so if something comes up somebody is going to stick up for me. Another thing, never call a bad hit when you are beating people. If it's close, give it to them. I got out of a couple of bars by calling the police. I told them there was a guy with a knife who just stabbed someone. When the police came, I'd walk out with them. I never told them the guy had a gun because they wouldn't come near the joint. With a knife they don't worry so much.
RG: You used to wear a beard. Did you ever hustle the same players twice because he didn't recognize you with or without the beard?
BR: I beat a guy three days apart one time. I played in a tournament in Macon, Georgia and I beat a salesman called "The Razorblade Man." I had the beard in the tournament and I beat him. Three days later, I shaved the beard off and he didn't recognize me, so I beat him again when I ran into him in a bar.
RG: What was the best disguise you used?
BR: I found out that the best way to go into a poolroom is in a sports coat with a briefcase, like you are a businessman. Now they think you have money. With a truck driver's uniform, they might figure you had $500-600. The other way it might be unlimited how much they think they might win, if you put up a good front.
RG: What did you do when you ran into a strong player?
BR: I'd lose a couple of games and quit. Most of the time I knew who I was playing, but occasionally I'd run into somebody who could play and I'd just quit.
RG: A lot of players who hustle in bars have drinking problems.
BR: Most of them. I used to tell myself that it was good to drink because you're putting on an act and win more money. That's bullshit. Yeah, I drank too much. I thought it was an act. I found out it wasn't an act when I started hustling bars that didn't have pool tables. The pool interferes with your drinking because you've got to stop to shoot. I haven't had a drink in seven years. I saw that it was doing me no good.
RG: What about breaking in 8 ball?
BR: If you have a knack for breaking from the side, that's the best break because you've got a real good shot at making the 8 on the break. You hit the second ball. I've seen real good players who didn't have a knack for that shot. It's a little tricky. You've got to have the right snap. On the right table you might make the 8 two out of ten times. That's quite an edge.

(Here are more of Bunny's War Stories and Tales of the Road):

Norman Howard, aka "the Jockey," and I were on the road travelling to the tournament in Johnston City. I said, "Hey, Jock, how about driving for a while. I'm getting tired." A few minutes later Jock said, "Wake up! I can't see! I can't see!" "What's wrong Jock," I said. "There's snow on the windshield." Jockey answered. "Why don't you put the wipers on?" "Oh, I thought they were just for rain," he replied.
The next day we were in Cumberland, Maryland and Jock's playing a radio announcer who's giving him the 8. Now, Jock's supposed to beat the guy even, but he can't make a ball. So I say "Why don't you quit and play him some more tomorrow. You'll beat him with the 8 and then beat him even." "I ain't quitting. I can beat him. I know I can beat him." Jockey yelled. "You're quitting," I said. "No I'm not," Jockey argued. "Oh, yes, you are. You're quitting," I insisted. "What makes you think I'm quitting," he said. "Because if you don't, when we get to Johnston City and your first match comes up, while they're announcing it over the microphone I'm going to tell them about the windshield wipers." I replied. Less than a minute later Jock was in the rack.

Kilroy (Roy "Kilroy" Kosmanski) and me were on the road and he was posing as an executive opening tomato-canning factories. I had the truck driver's uniform and a beard, so they never connected us anywhere.
Kilroy was telling everybody stories about building tomato factories so often that he actually got to believing it himself. After we took off the money, we'd go to the outskirts of town or down the road a ways to eat so they wouldn't see us together. After a while, Kilroy got to the point where he wouldn't sit with me. He'd take a booth and make me sit at the counter because he was an executive and didn't want anybody to see him associating with a truck driver. How do you like that?

I was visiting Pittsburgh and a guy named Tex told me about a bookmaker taking bets out of a steelmill. "If you can get him to the table, he'll lose some money. The only thing is that there is a little heat in the bar. So we'll have to send a couple of guys in there to get you out when you win the money. I thought that was fair enough, so I said, "That's alright. Give them a third." I played the fellow for $40 a game and took him off for $800. So we left the bar and cut up the money. After we gave the guys who helped us their third they left and I asked Tex, "I didn't see any heat in there. What's the story with giving these guys a third. I didn't see any trouble whatsoever." "The heat was those guys who took you out of the place," Tex said. "They were going to rob you if you didn't give them a piece of the action."

I was on the road with Earl Shriver and we stopped in a small town in Virginia. Earl was dressed in a sports shirt and slacks and I wore the truck driver's uniform with the wallet on a chain so I wouldn't connect with him. We went in a bar and I sat at one end while Earl went down to where they were playing. There were three guys playing for $3 on the five and $3 on the nine. Earl was sitting there watching and before long one of the players walked over and said," Man, I put too much english on that shot." "Yeah, that happened to me the last time I was playing Jack. You see Earl had picked up the names of the players while he was sweating the game.
A few minutes later another guy comes over to Earl and says, "Bill's really shooting good today." "Yeah, Bill's playing alright today, but I played him a while back and he didn't shoot that good," Earl responded. Fifteen minutes later I looked back and Earl was in the game and the bet had been raised to $5 on the five and $5 on the nine. In less than an hour, Earl busted the game and walked out with all the money. Then I heard the players saying, "Do you know him?" "No, I don't. I thought he was a friend of yours," the first player said. "No I never met the guy before. I thought he was your friend."

Bucky Fair took me to Hendersonville, N. Carolina and I beat this guy who owns a music shop out of $200 and he heads for the rack, asking me for the 8 and the 9. Giving this guy the 8 is a real tough game and I don't have to win, so I don't like it. So we go down to Greenville, S. Carolina where there's a guy called "Grinder." Now, it so happens that neither one of us can beat the Grinder, but the Grinder isn't around. He's out hustling somewhere. I get on the phone and call Hendersonville, where I won $200 the day before. I get the Music Man on the phone and pretend to be the Grinder. "A man passing through told me there was some action up there yesterday." The Music Man said, "Yeah, a guy was here and we played for $20 a game. We broke even." The guy wouldn't admit to losing the $200, but I was acting like the Grinder so I said, "I'll be up there around two or three o'clock. If that guy shows up, you've got part of the action."
So we head back to Hendersonville. As soon as we hit the door, I asked the Music Man to play some, but he asked for the 8. "Man, you know I can't give you the 8." I told him. Then the Music Man said, "I'll tell you what, I've got some business to take care of, but I'll be back around two o'clock and we can play some then." "I don't think I'll wait," I said, heading for the door. "I'm heading on." Before I made it to the door, the Music Man called me back. "I'll play some for $5." "That ain't no good. We played for $20 yesterday, so we've got to play for at least $10," I told him. "OK. We'll play a few for $10," the Music Man said. Now this guy is waiting for the Grinder to show up, but the Grinder ain't never going to come. The Music Man kept looking at the door and meanwhile I win another $300 for a total score of $500. That's not bad.

It sure beats working in the steel mill. I did that for seven months too. I couldn't stand it though, all that working like to ruin my stroke.

Pools Greatest Money Player, CornBread Red

2008-05-18T15:43:00.000-07:00

CORNBREAD RED: POOL’S GREATEST MONEY PLAYER
By Bob Henning
This book takes the reader into the life of pool’s legendary money player. It’s action-packed, entertaining, and easy to read. An inside look at the Johnston City tournaments and the world famous big-money poolroom -- the Rack, in Detroit MI. It has received rave reviews from pool publications and other reviewers.

$16.95
Excerpt from my book, The GosPool According To The Beard:
"Cornbread Red liked to bet so high it put a "tremble" in his opponents stroke. Red was one of my heroes. Whenever I ran into him, I followed and hung onto him the whole time. He had me totally fascinated. Red was the master at shooting off the game ball. When confronted with a big-cheese-money-ball, Red would derisively snort, "Haw, haw," in his inimitable style, then he would increase his normally long back-stroke about another foot, and slip-stroke the shot in, with dust flying out of the back of the pocket. Http://www.bankingwiththebeard.com/books.html

Interview with Jim Mataya by Randi Givens 1991

2008-05-13T17:00:00.000-07:00

PRETTY BOY FLOYD SHOOTS FROM THE HIP
An interview with Jim Mataya by R Givens © 1991

R Givens: How did you get started in the game?

Jim Mataya: I used to hang around a boxing gymnasium and they had a pool table there. You played until you lost. I was ten or eleven years old. I’d watch the big guys play and wait for my turn. Naturally, I’d get beat and wait thirty or forty minutes to play another game.

RG: What attracted you to the game?

JM: It seemed pretty interesting to me. I had a lot of fun with the game watching the balls roll around. Along about that time the movie "The Hustler came out and a lot of people began to be attracted by pool. At that time I was impressed with pool anyway, so I figured I’d give it a go.

RG: Did the "Hustler" have a big influence on you?

JM: Yeah, I guess so. I was about eleven or twelve years old.

RG: How did your game develop?

JM: I started to play in tournaments when I was 15 and being around all the good players for so many years helped me learn. I had a natural ability to play the game, but you have to learn things about the game. Tournaments helped a lot, playing all the top players.

RG: What was the hardest part of the game to learn?

JM: Hmmmm. When to quit, I guess.

RG: What do you mean?

JM: (laughs) You get into a lot of individual battles away from the tournament scene and no matter how bad someone would be beating on me, I’d never want to quit. There’s times you should use your head a little better. You might end up with more money that way.

RG: Was an instructor instrumental in developing your game?

JM: Yes. I had a guy in New York by the name of Bill Amadeo who helped me a lot playing straight pool when I was about 17.

RG: How did he help your game?

JM: He taught me what balls to shoot first. I could shoot anything from just about anywhere, but that ain’t the way you play the game. You’ve got to have a little insight into what you are doing. Thinking ahead and so on. He taught me the right shots to shoot. It’s more than a game of hitting a ball into the hole. You’ve got to have an idea of what you are doing, a little road map in your mind.

RG: How long did it take to reach a professional level?

JM: It didn’t take me long. I won my first major tournament when I was 17.

RG: When did you know you’d make it as a pro?

JM: When I was about 15. I won my first tournament when I was 15. From there on I knew I was going to play pool all the time. I won the World title when I was 21 and again when I was 22.

RG: How important is topflight competition for maintaining peak performance?

JM: It’s real important. It keeps you ready to fight. When you are playing guys where when you miss you aren’t going to get another shot, it’s a little different than playing someone who is not on your level. The minute you run into somebody that’s a force you are going to be in trouble, if you haven’t been doing a lot of battling with top players. It’s just like a fighter. He can spar with bums all he wants, but it’s a little different when you’re going for the title. Tough competition helps a lot. It helps keep you razor sharp.

RG: What’s your best game?

JM: 8–ball, 9–ball, straight pool.

RG: Any distinction between the games?

JM: No any one of those three. It doesn’t matter.

RG: How well do you play straight pool?

JM: I’ve run hundreds in straight pool.

RG: What’s your high run?

JM: About 200.

RG: That’s very good.

JM: Well, straight pool is not all that hard once you learn a few things about it. It’s not as hard and as gruelling as 9–ball. In 9–ball, you’ve got to make shots the length of the table and shoot bank shots and cut shots, where in straight pool you always play for the little easy shots. Straight pool is a good building block for any other game. You learn a lot from the game, but it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. It ain’t near as tough as 9–ball.

RG: How would you compare the players twenty years ago with those today?

JM: A champion is a champion. They all do the same thing. They get the job done. You give them a shot and they are off to the races. The only thing different today is there is more competition, more people playing. So you’ve got a lot tougher road to go in these tournaments compared to years ago. The players are becoming more educated all the time, so it’s tougher to win because of the upgrade in the competition. And like I say, the game today is 9–ball instead of straight pool.

RG: What’s the biggest difference between a good amateur and a professional?

JM: The education of the game. Knowing when to play safe. Knowing the right shot to shoot. Having a road map in your mind of what to do. Most amateurs and beginners just shoot the ball in and take what’s left. They don’t think ahead. Well, they think ahead, but they don’t think the right way. It takes a long time to learn how to play the game the right way. If you are just a shotmaker, that’s a good tool to start with,but to improve you need to learn things from the game and you learn by playing a long tie and from people helping you.

RG: How can average players improve their pattern play?

JM: Unless someone explains it a little bit, it’s hard to pick up on your own. It’s hard to understand hat they are doing, unless you have it in your own mind. A guy might run four or five racks of 9–ball and you might say, "Well, he’s a good shotmaker," but there’s more to it than that. You don’t want your cueball flying all over the place. Of course, in 9–ball, sometimes you can’t help it. But you don’t want to move the cueball around too much.

RG: What causes most misses among experts?

JM: Taking a shot for granted. sometimes you miss because you take a shot for granted. As far as tournaments go, you just dog it because of pressure.

RG: Is pressure a big factor?

JM: Sure it is. That’s the number one factor. When I practice, I play as good as anybody that ever lived. Never miss a ball. Get out there in a tournament and it’s a different story. A different story when you got pressure on you. The mental trip is half the battle. You’ve got to somehow relax yourself. If you don’t, you are in a lot of trouble.

RG: A handful of players like Varner, Strickland and Davenport dominate the pro tour. What sets them apart from the rest of the pack?

JM: They handle the pressure better than a lot of people, They know the game real well and they’ve got a lot of natural ability. When you win, you gain confidence. A pool player without confidence just can’t win. When you get on their level all you want is a shot. As soon as you get a shot, you know in your own mind that the game is over. When you get that type of feeling, you are there. Mentally, your concentration has to be there. You’ve got to want to win. Winning’s got to be the most important thing to you. When the good players play, it’s just a question of who’s going to get the shots and who isn’t.

RG: Why can’t the women beat the men?

JM: they don’t have the education of the game. Twenty years ago I watched them play and it was boring. It’s not like that anymore. the women play good now. They have the capability to shoot balls in the hole, but now they have to learn how to play the game. Men have been playing the game for centuries; women have only been playing for 25 years where they’ve got good competition. They’re learning things from the men when they go to tournaments. The women can’t beat the men because they don’t have the education of the game, but once they do there’s no reason they can’t compete with the men. They don’t have a powerful opening break, but after that there’s no reason why a woman can’t play as well as a man.

RG: What do you think of jump cues?

JM: I think they should be barred from the game. It doesn’t take any talent to use a jump cue. If you have to masse your cueball or go three or four cushions to hit the ball, it takes an education, but they pull out these jump cues and it takes no talent as far as I’m concerned. It takes a lot of skill away from the game. Instead of practicing with their jump cues, they ought to practice some billiards. Then they could learn something that really helps when you’re playing with rules where you have to kick at the ball. The rules really favor a good billiard player.

RG: What do you like about the pro tour?

JM: When I was young, I used to like the competition. I like being in competition. I’ve been competing for 26 years. Now I want to get paid for it. A fighter can go out there and get knocked out in ten seconds and pick up ten million. You play a pool match and if you lose you don’t get paid. I don’t like that at all. Neither do any of the other players. Pool tournaments are real simple. If you don’t come in 1st or 2nd, you go home a loser. It’s too tough. There’s no game tougher than pool. Of the non-physical sports, pool is the boss of all games. When you have to beat the best in the world to pick up five or ten thousand, it’s an insult.

I’d like to see how good the golfers played if they didn’t get paid for losing. There’s no pressure if you’ve got to make a putt to win $200,000 and if you miss you get $120,000. Hell, you call that pressure. Get up there when you’ve got to shoot a shot nine feet rail to rail and you get nothing if you miss. that’s pressure.

RG: How do players survive on the tour?

JM: They get backers. They hustle around a little bit. If there’s a tournament somewhere, I don’t care if it’s on the moon, they’re going to it. Whatever it takes to get there, they’ll do it.

RG: The snooker players in England succeeded in getting money into their game.

JM: They succeeded because they have gambling. You can bet on it. They’ve got legalized bookmakers thee just like going to the race track. People can turn on their TV and bet on a match.

RG: What can be done to get the game moving?

JM: We need a sponsor. We’ve got the tour. We’ve got the players. We can put on the greatest show in the world for them, but until the big money comes along what good is it?

RG: 7-UP and some other major corporations use pool in their commercials, but I don’t see them promoting the game or sponsoring any players.

JM: Sure, pool players have been getting used and abused their whole life. Take a look at the commercials on TV involving a pool table. They have a model come in who can’t even hold a cue stick. Who wants to watch some guy from Mabelline that can’t hold a cue. It’s boring. If they had a professional doing it the right way, it’d be the kind of commercial where people wouldn’t turn the station. That’s the difference between being smart in the marketing business and being an idiot. If those advertising executives want a commercial that’ll be talked about, send them to me. I’ll make the most talked about commercial in history.

RG: Do you think pool has an image problem?

JM: They say that pool has a bad image, but I don’t understand that. Watch Tommy Lasorda on TV. If you can read lips, I don’t have to tell you what he says every three minutes. The same way with all those referees, coaches and players---nothing but filthy language. They’re all on drugs and everything else. They can’t read, can’t write, can’t spell their name, but that’s OK because there’s big money involved. That’s where America is full of baloney. Anything that’s got money involved, they’re all for it. They don’t care about the fact that you’ve been in prison or that you are a dope head. As long as there’s money involved, it’s OK. They dog pool players because there isn’t any money involved. If there was some money in the game, they’d think pool players were the greatest people who ever lived.

Bank Pool Instructional books

2008-05-12T16:49:00.000-07:00

The GosPool of Bank Pool $29.95

http://www.bankingwiththebeard.com/books.html for ordering

Three-Cushion Greats

2008-05-11T16:46:00.000-07:00

A Bad Day in Dallas

2008-05-10T06:02:00.000-07:00

by "San Jose Dick" Mc Morran

For more years than I care to remember my life has consisted of matching up and getting down. The larger cities had great old rooms where all the guys doing the same thing would come together to try and get the best of each other. But most of the time, it was on the road in a strange town where you could slip in, unknown, and get some "soft" action playing the hometown champion. Many times I have wished I'd chosen a little softer career path.

Shortly before the assasination of JFK, I left San Jose and moved to Dallas. It was an ominous beginning to the best 7 or 8 years of my life. Within a few hundred miles of where I settled in Arlington, there was all the action (soft and tough) any player could want. Wichita, O.K. City, Tulsa, Shreveport, and Houston were all less than a tank of gas away. With gas at thirty cents a gallon, my 1959 Buick rarely saw under 80 MPH getting to where the action was.

Now to my story. I'm awakened at 3 AM from a sound sleep by a voice I recognized immediately. It's U.J. Puckett and he said "Get your ass down here right now"! Only half awake and lying next to the sweetest "pool groupie" I'd ever met, I said "F--- you"! U.J. went on to explain. A mutual acquaintance of ours, George McGann was loser some serious money backing U.J. against some young stranger. George wants you to get over here and try and get him even. The kid says he'll wait so hurry up". I threw on some clothes and got a warning from Sweetie Pie (she tended bar for George) and she said "Watch out for him, he can be real mean". I knew that very well. I said "Not to worry, he's going to be on my side".

I was forty minutes away from George's bar on Lemon Street; I made it in twenty five.I knew that George was probably the most dangerous and unpredictable tush-hog in all of Texas. T.J. Parker, who owned a pool room in Houston, was just as mean, but not as crazy. George was known to brag about his many enemies "disappearance". Yeah, they found him dead in the desert shot full of holes, terrible case of "suicide". As I entered, George, Puckett and Billy T. (another Dallas tough guy and a real good friend) were sitting at the end of the bar. A young handsome blond guy was dancing to some loud music with his girlfriend. This kid, I learned later, was Surfer Rod Curry. It was our first of many encounters.

The guys filled me in on what had happened. George was $800 loser backing U.J. at $50-$100 eight ball. Billy T. was a few hundred loser side betting. That's a lot of money in today's dollars. After trying to get him to play nine ball, Rod finally stopped dancing long enough to flip a coin and we kicked it off for $50 a game eight ball.Bar table eight ball was not my best game. After a few hours of see-sawing, I was a game or two loser. Rod was playing pretty solid. In a flash of brilliance I said "Let's jack it to $100 and play last pocket". Rod danced over to the juke box and said "You got it". Puckett agreed that should give me an edge and sheepishly admitted he should have thought of that.Sure enough, I won about 5-6 games in a row and Rod said "That's all, I quit".

I sensed something was going down. Billy T. left (very unusual)and James Pelfrey came in. James was one of George's pet gofers and a poorly educated, big, mean tush-hog. James would literally "kill" for George. He was a real loose cannon. As Rod is gathering up his stuff, George came out from behind the bar with the biggest handgun I'd ever seen. He put it right up to Rod's temple and said "You ain't quitting Mother F-----r!" I tried to calm George down and even told him I wouldn't play under those conditions. He's still got the gun two inches from poor Rod's head, he turned his wild eyes in my direction and said "Yes you will, Dick".Whatever medication George was on, in his mind, this was an honorable way to get his money back, short of an outright heist. He told Rod if he busted us, he could leave with no problem..right! Rod and I had no choice but to continue the charade at virtual gunpoint. He threw me a few more games (George was still a few hundred loser) and Rod, never short on pure guts, said "I quit, shoot me if you want to".

Puckett had gotten George calmed down a little by that time and he let Rod and his sobbing girlfriend leave the joint. I followed him out to the parking lot and his car had been ransacked, trunk pried open, seats and floor mats pulled up, etc. I hadn't noticed but James had been absent for the last half hour.I was profusely apologetic about what had taken place. He understood it was not my fault. In fact we met and played the very next night, just the two of us, at an undisclosed location. Once again, Rod did not like it. He got robbed without a gun to his head! But that's another story.

Ronnie, Richie and Fats

2008-05-09T06:28:00.000-07:00

Great stories, and an interview with Richie Florence at his old
stomping grounds, the Tropicana Bowling Alley:
http://www.tropicanabowlingalley.com/richie.html

Click for the great interview with Ronnie Allen at:
http://www.onepocket.org/RonnieAllenInterview.htm

Click for a great Fats story by the incomparable Hippie Jimmy Reid: http://www.freepoollessons.com/stories/stories1.html

Here's a story from the Beard:
Johnston City, 1969 or 70.
I had the pleasure and privilege of watching Ronnie Allen and Minnesota Fats play Onepocket. I say privilege, because few people were allowed to watch the game. To see Fats play Ronnie, or his other opponent, Richie Florence, you had to be invited. Getting a spot, and maybe getting beat in public, was pretty much the reason Fats would only play to a selected audience. Fatty didn’t want any squares seeing him getting a spot from Ronnie and Richie. I was just a kid then , and it was very exciting. Some earlier scribes, who obviously weren’t there, said Ronnie gave Fats 8 to 6 and Richie Florence gave him 9 to 7. Not true. Richie gave him 8 to 7, and Ronnie played him 9 to 7 and $330 to $300 on the money. ($300 a game in those days is equivalent to about 4 million a game today.) Neither guy had a good game with Fats. Ronnie and Fats broke even the night I watched. Greatest Onepocket performance by both players that I ever saw. Anybody who doubts Fats' offensive ability is nuts. Fats would shoot a two- railer and stop his cue ball right in front of Ronnie's pocket. Ronnie would do the same. Ronnie would run 9 and out, and Fats would run 7 and out. Incidentally, Fat's sevens looked much better than Ronnie's nines. Fats ran out like Mosconi, and as fast as Lou Butera. They both played fantastic, the games never wound up down table. They played for about 2 hours and might have played as many as 25 to 30 games in that time. 9 and out and 7 and out was just about all they did. Ronnie ran 9 every time he seen the edge of a ball, and Fats ran 7 like it was water. The games lasted an average of about 5 minutes each. The outcome was predictable, after a couple of incredible hours, they were about even and they quit. The odds on the money probably put Fatty a few bucks ahead.
During that same time period Fatty did beat Richie out of 52k, according to a later interview with Richie himself. Richie Florence was a great Nine ball player, and pretty good Onepocket player, but his reign was very, very short. He was basically done and out of the loop before he was 30 years old. At seventeen, he was a world class Nine rocker and super fast gambler. I personally believe his career was shortened due to the brutal punishment and beating he took from Minnesota Fats playing 1 hole in Johnston City. I think Fats gutted him out and he was just never the same afterwards.
A few months before the Johnston City tournament started, Richie and Eddie Kelly had been on the road together, and Richie had just beat Cleo Vaughn in Mobile, ALA out of some serious money to amass the bankroll that he lost to Fats. They started playing about 30 days before the Johnston City tourney started, so Fats had Richie all to himself. The only other player that was there was Ronnie Allen. Ronnie had also been in Mobile, and he suggested to Richie that they go to Johnston City a little early so that they could match up with Fatty. Fatty, was a veteran hustler who knew every horrible psyche move, he was an overmatch to young Richie who had too much heart for his own good. All Richie had to defend himself with, was talent and ability. The brutal way that Fatty out managed, and maneuvered Richie in order to beat him was scandalous. Ronnie Allen wisely stayed out of the game and didn’t have any of Richie's play. However, I believe that Ronnie was in with Fats. My suspicions have always leaned toward Ronnie having a nip of Fatty's play. It's hard to imagine that Ronnie could stand by and watch Richie get jerked around that badly without getting compensated. To this day, Ronnie denies it.
They played when Fats wanted to play; they bet what Fats wanted to bet; they quit when Fats wanted to quit -- if Richie started shooting too good, Fats would quit and wait until the next day to continue-- if Fats was winning, they would play all night. Fats would show up late, waiting until Richie had plenty of drinks in him before he would play. It was a classic example of just how good a turned-out hustler Fats was. Richie never recovered from the "gutting" Fatty gave him. After that strumming, his pool glory days were over.