Surfer Rod Feedback to LeBlanc Book                                                                                                               Rod's Home

Hi Robert, Thanks for the copy of your Book, Confessions of a Pool Hustler.  I finished it in about a week.  I'm in awe of you having worked with 3 great actors, namely, Rod Steiger, Chaz Palminteri and Christopher Walken, the latter being one of my favorite actors of all time.  Besides the Bible, technical and school books, you can count the number of books I've read on one hand.  I prefer audio-visual media since they stimulate more of my senses.  I've been to about 75% of the places you have mentioned in your book so I have provided feedback and documented relative stories and personal experiences below as I read your book: 

You mentioned "Meathead."  I ran into a guy that fits his description in Tennessee.  I did not see it but I heard that sometimes after losing, he would act like a bull and ram his head into the cigarette machine.  Is this the same guy you referenced?

We seem to have similar tastes in cars and used the same in our travels.  I also used another mnemonic (hit songs on the jukebox) this evening to assist my memory regarding where I was playing at the time.  Regarding my cars, one of my first was a 1959 Mercury in 1965, new 1966 Chevelle Super Sport 396, 1968 GTO, 1969 Buick Electra, 1970 Eldorado, 1975 Mercedes, then after I retired from pro pool, I owned a 1987 Buick Turbo Grand National.  Last and the best car I've owned to date is my 2000 Lexus GS 400 I bought it new and still have.  Regarding the songs I readily recall, in 1964, Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime was on the juke box and I played all over the east coast, in 1966, Wild Thing was on the juke box and I was in Wichita, KN.  Later on in 1966, the song was Wooly Bully and the town was Deland, FL.  In 1973, the song was Rambling Man and the town was Ogden, UT.  In 1977, the song was Hotel California and I made a lot of money in Oklahoma.  In 1979, the song was Leave Those Kids Alone and I was in Missouri with Omaha John.  1971-1975:  I lived in Denver, took a double load of courses in college and raised a family.  

On 4 April 1968, when Martin Luther King was assassinated, I was in Nashville, TN.  There was a 10 PM curfew and when the clubs closed, we went to a private party in someone's condo.  After a while, the police raided the place because we were breaking the curfew order.  Some of the partiers tried to escape over the balcony but there were several police below.  The owner of the condo tried hiding under the bed but they found him and the police escorted us down the hall and out the door.  I was the last one in line so just before I reached the exit, I took a detour and ran up the stairs to the next level and escaped via one of the other exits.  The other partiers were taken to jail.  

You mentioned a cue stick thrown and whiffed by your head.  That reminded me when my father (90% blind with cataracts) made gravy that included lard, flour, salt and pepper.  He burned the flour, the gravy was awful and I wouldn't eat it.  Before he could grab and beat me, I ran out the door as fast as I could and he threw a baseball bat at me as hard as he could.  It missed my head by inches and I could hear it as it whiffed by my head.  If contacted, I would probably be dead.  

In one of your stories, you quoted me saying I used the f-word so I'll tell you a related story.  When I was 10 yrs old during recess one day while we were playing, I called my friend a SOB.  It was not even mean-spirited but our temporary teacher for that year heard me so she made me stand in front of the class and recite the 10 Commandments.  I didn't know any better because my father cussed all the time but after that experience, I never said a cuss word in public again.  Also, I dreaded giving formal public briefings and the latter caused me more stress than any other thing I can remember.  My mouth would get so dry that sometimes I had to pause and try to work up some saliva.  Even when I was a high-level management official with the Treasury Department, I would rather prepare the technical briefings but have another do the oral presentations to the Commissioner and other dignitaries.  Sitting down or in a relaxed environment, I didn't have that problem.

You said I beat Jew Paul pitching quarters but I didn't.  I tried to get him to pitch a quarter to the spot on a pool table but he declined but offered to do so outside to a crack in the sidewalk.  He was my elder so I would retrieve the quarters each time for the next pitch.  It was snowing so hard that the crack was covered with snow after every toss so we had someone sweeping the crack clean each time.  After a while though, my fingers froze and he beat me out of $2000.  When I went back in side, Cornbread Red said, "Why didn't you wait?  He would have pitched to the spot sooner or later."  I have no patience for stalling around; I wanted action as fast as possible.  He was right though.  Mike Corella was one of the shining stars.  He, all the bookies and high-rollers liked me though and one time at a Vegas Bar Table tournament, I was rolling the dice and held them for a long time.  I made about $1500 and was only making $20 place bets.  The Detroit bookies were betting hundreds on me at the same time.  I heard they won over $100,000 while I had the dice but no one gave me a jelly roll.  I also heard that the next day, they lost the $100,000 back plus lost $200,000 more.  I also beat the Jockey easily in Detroit.  He was a big drinker back then and I beat him every game.  Another time, when I was parked outside a joint in Michigan City, IN, he was traveling with Canadian Pete (another big drinker) and the Jockey left a message on my car, "Bet more was here."  I was always trying to raise the bet.  I made a lot of money playing him and Pete in an after hours club.  They both were real nice guys.  Before I lost my money to Jew Paul pitching quarters, I gave Lori Shampoo the 7 and beat her playing 9-ball.  The bookies were standing in line to back her.  At that time, she was one of the best female players I'd ever seen for the cash.  I also matched up and played Jimmy Fusco playing one-pocket on the bar table.  I won the first 3 games and he was woofing so much (sounded like Ronnie Allen), that I proposed we play mum pool.  He agreed, the first one to say a word would forfeit $200.  The very first game, there were a lot of moves and when he committed a foul, I made a sound, he grabbed the forfeit money and quit playing altogether.  Looking back, it was funny though. 

I also teamed up with Mike Morrison from Gadsden, Alabama.  While traveling with his magazine crew, he hit too many small towns that had no pool action.  We split the pool action and I was to receive money from two of his workers.  They didn't make any money though,  He would loan them an advance and after charging them for the motel and their food, they never had any money either.  He would send ½ the magazine money to HQ in Atlanta and at the end of the month, they would send him ½ of that back to him.  He was making good money but none of his crew were.  I can't remember the year (1970?) but we picked up two girls in Jacksonville, Florida and they rode with us in his Winnebago to New Orleans.  While in New Orleans, we went across the river to a big card game.  He was losing more than I was and when I saw them cheating (cutting the cards in a crimp), I quit.  Mike didn't know and I couldn't tell him they were cheating so I just said, "Let's go."  He was hesitant because he was losing but was getting ready to go when one of the cheaters said, "Come back when you can stay longer."  Then Mike started yapping of how much money he had, that he could buy them, etc.  I thought were going to get heisted right there.  I feel we were lucky to get out of there without trouble.  We parted ways in Houston over a small issue in that I told him something in confidence but he blabbed it anyway.  Also, I no longer wanted to be stuck in the smaller towns to which he frequented due to his magazine sales business.   He was a hot head but I didn't expect to hear he went to prison.  Can you elaborate about that stage of Mike's life?  While we traveled together, sometimes his wife would fly in and traveled with us.  She was good looking (red hair) but did not say much.  Years later, I met their daughter in Gadsden while she was working at a restaurant.  She was nice and now I feel sad for her loss.  Mike was a go-off in that one time he and I were playing Monopoly for real money (1 % of the play money).  When it was over, I had all the play money and all the properties.  It was over $1500 in real money and he paid me some of it in mohair suits and matching colored (purple, green and orange) shoes.  Another time in Huntsville, I was winning a lot of money from the locals.  One of them was in a wheel chair and acted friendly and put his arms around my shoulders now and then.  I didn't think much of it until one time he tried to hold me around my neck and sucker punch me.  Before he could do so, I broke away from his grip and spun him around in his wheel chair.  Now, all his buddies want to fight me for my ill-treatment of their wheelchair friend.  I told them I couldn't fight them all at the same time but would fight them one at time.  The toughest one challenge me and I quickly threw him to the ground and drug his nose in the parking lot face down.  After that, no one else stepped up.  I then left but in the fight, I ripped my new black mohair suit I had recently bought in Georgetown, DC.  It was ruined but I had plenty more suits like that.  It seemed that everywhere I went, James Brown was in the same city (North Carolina, Jackson, MS, Montgomery, AL and in his club in Cincinnati).  I didn't see too many white guys at his shows.  I sort of copied his style in attire and dance.  You mention Twiggy.  I knew a Twiggy-look-alike in Nashville.  We were in a big week-after-week dance contest and first place were diamond rings.  I proposed that if we won the dance contest, I would spend the weekend with her.  We won and like Rev Al Sharpton, I was doing the "James Brown."  Twiggy and I went swimming at her ranch then afterwards, we rode horses.  I had never rode a horse by myself before but did so in wet swimming trunks.  She was really good and rode her horse bareback.  I had a saddle but the horse ran through weeds scratching my legs.  I looked up and the horse was running under a tree--high enough for the horse to run under but the tree limb was headed directly at me,  I slid out of the saddle and was hanging onto the saddle horn by one of my ankles.  I looked like one of those trick riders in the rodeo.  In high school, I use to do chin-ups and hang on the bar by my heals.  Lucky for me, I had that pre-requisite training.

One time after leaving a rough spot, I also waited while a girl went back in and get my pool cue case.  We got away but lucky to do so.  Keith McCready and I were going to Vegas from L.A. for a pool tourney.  He had an airline ticket but thought he would save some money and ride there with me.  On the way, he steered us to a redneck bar in Barstow, CA.  I won a little bit playing 9-ball then they were woofing somewhat so I acted like I was going to get some more money while Keith was playing.  Both of the locals acted a little crazy but I didn't think much of it and drove down the road.  One of them followed me but I did not let on that I saw him.  He watched me as I acted like I made a phone call.  Then he watched me as I ate at a restaurant.  When I got back (the other guy came in shortly thereafter) Keith was winning and it looked like they were going to start some trouble when another guy (stranger to everyone) came in and yelled, "Can I have your attention please?"  No one paid him any mind so even louder, he reiterated, "I said, can I have your attention please?"  He got there attention and he asked, "Where can I find a place to camp tonight?"  Expecting an attitude, everyone laughed except the two bad guys that were losing a little money to Keith and me.  They started trouble but not with us.  One of them threw a beer bottle at the stranger and hit an innocent by-stander right dab in the forehead at the next pool table over.  It looked bad and he needed a doctor but we were able to sneak out the front door.  I noticed I left my pool case under the table so I sent a girl back in to get it for me.  She did but when we were driving off, one of the bad guys threw a beer bottle at my car but didn't hit it.  I looked at Keith as if to say how come you brought me to this place.  Again, I feel lucky to get out of there without fighting our way out.  When we arrived in Las Vegas, Keith wanted to play gin rummy.  He says this guy is going to deal to him playing gin and that Keith had the nuts.  He said no one on earth could deal to him and win except maybe Nicky Vatch.  I said I didn't want any card action so I went to my room to get some rest for the tourney coming up the next day.  The next day I saw Keith and asked him about the game.  He asked me, "Do you know who that guy was?"  Before I could answer, he said, "Nicky Vatch."  The one guy to watch out for and he did not recognize him.  So now, Keith is broke again so I stake him a couple of times playing pool and at craps.  We won a little bit and he would not take any crap from the dealers.  You know Keith!  He and I have played pool several times and he is a little bit ahead.  He usually goes broke quicker than I.  I remember in Port Angeles, WA, I had Keith busted playing one-pocket.  I need two balls; one is a hanger and another ball was a dead combo.  But dumb me, showing off, I shot the hanger as hard as I could (Tacoma Whitey's 4x8 with high rails that would die and slide long) such that I go across the table then my english would take and go back across one rail for the dead combo.  Anyway, the hanger jawed and Keith ran 8 and out (most of them were bank shots).  I ended up busting him though pitching quarters to the crack on the side walk.  He would keep changing the distance and at the end we were tossing the quarters ½  a city block.  It reminded when I use to play goose chase with those big (buck) marbles when I was kid.  Another time at "Hard Times" back near L.A., I was getting the 8 and had him on his last barrel playing 9-ball.  He put 11 racks on me.  It was cold and clammy; once, he was standing on the table barefooted making the shot (back then we didn't need to have one foot on the floor).  He had that cake powder all over the table and balls such that I could not get the balls to freeze.  He was making the corner ball straight in off the break every time and either making the nine or it was wired dead within a shot or two.  I was squeezing the rack inwards to try and freeze the balls but no matter how much I tried, I could not stop the dead balls off the break.  I must have broken 6 racks; they were so cold and brittle that I only broke them rather than compress the sides of the rack inward.  I won some of my money back pitching quarters to the spot though.  Then we had another proposition throwing a ball down the table and curving same into the side pocket.  Doc White got in on the proposition and Keith won that event.  Doc was a terrific poet; just to show it was he was no joke, he would recite the whole poem again.  I did run the first 8 racks though, playing Doc 8-ball in Canyon City, Colorado.  Then I missed a straight in, lost one and won the next two games before his backer quit. 

Regarding Charlie the Ape, I heard some outrageous stories but I liked him.  I was steered to Santa Anna to play the guy running the place or Charlie the Ape playing 9-ball.  I said are you sure, 9-ball is my worst game.  He says not to worry, I could beat either one of them at anything.  But the first guy beat me out of a $1000 playing 9-ball; I couldn't get out (never ran a rack and played bad).  The next day, I matched up with Charlie playing 6-ball on a 4x8 and we both played with a broom handle.  I ran the first six racks with a broom handle and won my money back plus some.  I ended up playing all comers for 3 days with nothing to eat or drink, not even water.  I made over $5000 and finished up on Thanksgiving Day.  My fingers had dehydrated to the size of pencils.  I weighed myself and discovered I lost 20 pounds (water weight loss).  I gained the 20 lbs back Thanksgiving Day in one setting at a buffet down the street.  Sort of like Greg Stevens use to do.

I did not like (big) Sergio.  He beat me in Denver playing 9-ball when I was in college.  I was taking a double load of classes at college, raising a family and only playing once a week in a league.  Also, Joe Salazar came through and beat me at that time but I beat them both later in Las Vegas during one of the bar table tournaments.  Sergio did not show much respect and seemed to like making me angry sort of like Ronnie Allen does.  In Louisiana, Ronnie ran the first 6 racks on me one time; I never said a word.  When I got to the table, Ronnie talks to me and tries to shark me.  I tell Ronnie to sit down and said, "I never said a word while you were shooting."  He would say something like, "Too bad, if you don't like it quit."  Then he would say, "Now you have to bet $200."  I only had two barrels left and I lost to him that time.  You know Ronnie.  I don't like playing guys like that.  I finally tortured him later a couple of times.  Once in Baton Rouge and then again in Colorado Springs.  You should have seen my masse' draw shot to break out the 8 and win the match.  I could not go down table because all his balls were in the way so I made the cue ball go in a big circle and traveling back down the table exponentially to break out the 8 and get perfect.  I had some fans down from Denver (we were playing in Colorado Springs) and the crowd went wild.  What a feeling!

Omaha John Shuput and I partnered up from 1977 to 1982 off and on.  The first year, we made enough money for him to buy a new Cadillac and me a new house.  I had my teaching credentials but when our second child came, the wife said we needed a bigger house.  Not on a teacher's salary so we agreed that I go back on the road.  I don't know if you paid taxes but John was investigated by the IRS for having a brand new Cadillac but not claiming same.  He said they made a couple of visits and then never heard from them again (as if they forgot about it).  I did pay taxes and now my Social Security annuity is solely from my time in the Navy and 20 years playing pool.  It made more sense to file when I could deduct 14 more items being self-employed than I can now.  i.e., I could deduct almost all my winnings and I never drew an unemployment check.  I retired from pro pool in 1983; John retired from same in 1985.  One of the last times I saw John was in Vegas but we came there independently.  He had qualified for the tourney and I had been on the road instead.  We usually split everything but not this time.  We hedged such that I would give 10% of my pool action and he would give 10% of his tournament winnings.  I beat Cole Dixon out $4000 playing one-pocket on a bar table and gave John $400.  Cole would cut them in from everywhere but like me playing Alan, Cole could not make the out ball.  Omaha John won the whole thing ($25,000) and beat Alan Hopkins in the finals.  Alan and I made a date to play in the Serene Room but he did not show up until 24 hours later.  A trick that Grady has pulled on me but I still like Grady.  When he shows up, I'd been up for 3 days and playing last-pocket 8-ball; and badly, I might add.  I would run the rack and lag the 8-ball instead of firing it in.  The lag usually came up short and you know if you miss the 8, you cannot win.  I didn't dog the bet though and I raised it every game.  When it got to $800, he would not play any higher (and he had a backer).  I was a site though (with the rack around my neck) but lost all my money.  John owed me $2500 for our hedge agreement but would not give it to me until I got some rest.  Alan and I made date to play the next day.  John gave me my money but Alan failed to show up at all this time.  I heard he flew out of town fast, with my cash.  I don't have a lot of respect for Alan.  I played him in Birmingham; he won the first 6 games (one-pocket) and I won the next two.  He quit winner there also.  I couldn't live like that; it's all or nothing with me--every time.  I've been asked why I bet so high, I say if I lose, I'm going to lose it all anyway; why not bet it all from the get-go and share the pressure.

Waterdog came to Denver when I lived there and I busted him playing straight pool on a bar table.  I was lucky on one shot in that I had to fan the 6 ball with outside english, missed the shot but went 3 rails with my cue ball to make it anyway.  I also beat him on a big table (4 ½.x 9).  We both started playing safe and then I ran 98 and out and beat him 100 to two in the hole.  I liked Don so I agreed to steer and stake him but would not let him shoot any junk while he played for me.  We made some money and then one day, we were playing 3-way 9-ball, he, Danny Medina and I.  I'm not much in 9-ball so I bowed out and Don went on to beat Danny.  Danny borrowed $300 from me and I never saw the money again.  I even took him to Las Vegas with me thinking I'll get my money from his tournament winnings or other action.  I steered him into some action in which he won and he won money in tourney.  I asked for the $300, he said he would give it to me tomorrow.  Tomorrow never comes; he said he lost it all last night playing craps.  What a liar, or worse.  He wanted to play me some in Ogden until I reminded him about the $300.  He never called or came back again.  I guess I should have forgotten about the money he owed me.  Mike Schulz came to town in 2008 or 2009 and beat me good the first couple days.  The next day, he did not have the money to pay off the first game.  I liked Mike though because he gave me action.  When a local backed him, he beat me.  Then when he fired his half without the backer, I beat him.  He left town embarrassed though because he had the nuts yet lost his buddy's cue stick in a game and then stole another and left town.  Because of that, he can't show his face around here anymore.  I liked him though; he had beautiful slip stroke.  He also mentioned that Danny Medina was going to jail for stealing in Las Vegas.  I don't know any details but knowing Danny, he probably deserves to be in prison.

Norman Hitchcock:  After I played Bill Dugan, mayor of Longdale, OK in one-pocket, he wanted to be my stake horse.  I didn't win much money the first time from Bill but won a lot later.  Anyway, he calls Hitchcock to play me.  I'm to give him the 8 or the break playing 9-ball.  I tell Bill I can't spot anyone playing 9-ball; that's my worst game.  He said, "That's alright; I'll make him bet so much he'll dog it."  My kind of guy.  If he was drinking, it all played--he would even give odds flipping a coin, heads or tails.  One time, Bill and I pitched quarters to a baseball cap for $700 and I won $2800.  Sometime thereafter, we ran into each other in Vegas and he says, "Let's pitch one time for $5000 to the hat."  A big black guy walks buy and I ask to borrow his hat and he complied.  I only had $4600 so I asked another high-roller from Oklahoma, Will Willingham if I could borrow 400.  He gave it to me and I asked Bill, "Are you ready?"  He said, "No."  I ask, "Why?"  He said, "That's not a hat, that's a cap."  I couldn't help but laugh.  He was a character.  Have you ever been beaten so bad, you could not remember the score playing one-pocket?  Well, before it happed to me, I was beating Detroit Whitey (another character) on a bar table playing one-pocket near downtown Vegas.  After me beating on him so bad, on his case game, he asked me, "What's the score?"  I said is was, "Seven to two, me."  He says, "That's not right." and asked another guy, "What's the score?"  The guy said, "Seven to two, Rod."  He says, That's not right, I have seven and Rod has two."  He was so upset and shell shocked, he didn't know which way was up.  I drilled him.

 Junior Norris:  Your memory of how good some of these guys' played is different than my experiences.  I beat Junior playing 8-ball and then six ball every time I ran into him in Wichita Falls, TX.  I believe I beat him giving the break in 6-ball also.  I loved that 3x6.  The last time, Omaha John was with me and we did not run into Junior so we got a room and again the next day we would make the rounds again but could not find him.  I told John that I heard he might be at the golf course so I called the golf course and got Junior on the phone.  I laid down my Omaha Fats (Martin Kaiman) routine and asked Junior, "Do you remember me from Denver?  You beat me last time and I want to get even."  I told him where I was and he said, "I'll be right down."  Now, I tell John I can't be seen because it may knock the action.  Like U.J. Puckett, Martin had a unique voice so I say that when Junior gets there, talk like Omaha Fats.  John says, "I can't do that."  I say, "Sure you can; we do it every night before we go to sleep."  So Junior gets there right away and asked, "Who wants to play some?"   John (sounding like Omaha Fats) says, "I'll play you some."  They played 6-ball.  Junior had a payroll or cashier's check for $6500 and we won about $5000 of that before Junior's wife pulled him up.  I made a lot of money imitating Omaha Fats and afterwards, I asked John do you think I went too far?  He says, "No, every time you did your Omaha Fats routine, everyone broke out in a smile."  I won all their money and yet they liked it.  If you didn't know Martin, you'd have to hear my imitation--a real money-maker for us.

Denny Searcy:  After watching Denny Searcy beat Jim Rempe in Houston in late 60s, Denny and I played a proposition game where I was getting the 6, 7, 8 and the break playing 9-ball; Denny was shooting with his normal cue and I was shooting with a broom handle.  We played for a little while but I was not making any headway so I was allowed to play Chinese pool (2 cues like chop sticks) with the same spot.  If I would almost drop the cue ball, I would move my arms up and down like a juggler to regain control.  We were playing for $25 per game and Denny kept asking me to raise the bet.  I really wanted to because I had a lock game but I acted as though I didn't like the game.  Anyway, at $25 per game, I beat Denny Searcy out of $1100.  After the game, Denny said, "You must have the best coordination I've ever seen."  Chinese pool rules:  I must pick up the cue ball by first contacting the top of the cue ball, compressing the two cue sticks downward and picking up the cue ball (scooping not allowed).  After getting the cue ball up cleanly, roll the cue ball down the pool sticks to make the object ball.  If I drop the cue ball, my opponent shoots from where it lands.  While attempting to pick up the cue ball and I touch or move an object ball, I lose my turn but can set the cue ball down anywhere on the pool table for my opponent's next shot.  If I drop the cue ball on the floor, my opponent gets cue ball in hand.

Bumper pool:  Like 3-cushion billiards, after only playing a short while, I beat everybody I played at those games, ever Grady in Colorado Springs.  Back to bumper pool, besides Louisville, KY, the Dallas and Ft Worth area were the only times I played the game.  However, I beat them all including Woppy, Marcus in the Dallas area and even the last time I played Denny Searcy, it was bumper pool in North Carolina.  When it comes to cue ball control, that's my game.  On an easy bumper pool table where the holes are a bigger than normal, we both would run 5 and out.  However with smaller holes, coming off the bumper was not my specialty but I loved putting my opponent in jail (behind all the bumpers in the middle of the table) and at the same time english my ball off the rail into or directly toward the hole.  I saw Woppy some years later again and he was funny yet goofy from all the pills he had consumed over the years.  He was a fun-loving guy with lots a girls nearby.

One-eyed Tony:  I beat him every game of 8-ball (8 in a row) in Oklahoma City.  Once there with Omaha John, we ran into Frisco Jack Cooney.  He hustled me and I had to give him a ball playing one-pocket on a bar table.  I could see that I couldn't win but he would not play me even.  The next time I saw Jack was in the pool room in Chicago.  He was reading the newspaper like Omaha John always liked to do.  Someone had stolen his Caddy and he had nowhere to go and was getting action with this big black guy (Jack had to give up a big spot) but little did he know that the guy against whom he was playing one-pocket, was the head of a car-theft ring and responsible for stealing Jack's car. 

Fly Boy (Jimmy Spears):  I owned him and won a lot of money off him in many different towns.  Playing 8-ball and last-pocket 8-ball, In Tennessee, he was running his own joint  and I won $1600; the last $800 was in quarters.  I had to hold up my pants till I made it to the bank.  Another time (and I was lucky), a race to 11 for $3500.  Jimmy had me 10 to 9.  He made the 8 on the break and scratched.  Now, 10 to 10, I make the 8 on the break for the win.  He's a go-off, just like me so what will make you laugh, will make you cry.  I've been there also yet can't help but sympathize when a class guy like Fly Boy loses all his money.  You had to love him.

Willie Munson:  Kept me in action while George Brunt takes a break from playing me.  George beat me playing $100-regular 8-ball 4 days in a row.  I was drinking Mountain Dew and felt nervous.  On the last day, I tripled the bet playing last-pocket 8-ball and won every game.  The only other difference I was drinking Crown Royal and made some Houdini outs.  I also met a beautiful young lady there and we enjoyed each other's company; no sex! 

Denver Joey:  Is this Dallas Joey Torma?  He knew about my run-in with Vernon Litton.  Joey lived in Denver for a while and we partnered up a lot.  He talked me into betting on NFL games--might beat me 10 in a row and when I won one, he had no money to pay me.  Thereafter, I made him put the money up with me before the game.  Unlike with the bookies, I did not charge any juice.  He did same thing (stiff) to the Denver bookies also but that was not too smart.  He'd call me to hit some spots together so we'd partner up.  If he lost the first game, he comes to me for some money.  He always lied when he said he had money; he never did.  He was fun though.  You just have to assume he was lying.  One time in the early 80s, I was in Houston for action (they also had a big pool tourney there).  He called me up and says, "Come up to his hotel room--he wanted to visit and reminisce."  I say, "Why don't you come down here; I'm in action."  He says that he can't come down because he had too much heat on him.  I tell him, "Knowing you, you probably brought the heat upon yourself."  So I never saw him again.

Poochie:  I beat him playing 8-ball near Flint, Michigan.

Black Fish Lake, Ark:  After I beat everyone in Memphis, including Larry Hubbard (every time we played), one of the lesser players steered me to a grocery store about 50 miles west of Memphis.  He let me out of his car about a mile from the spot and I walked to the store and played (I didn't know at the time) Walter Boles in the back room.  We played for $5 a game all day; he wouldn't raise the bet and I didn't feel like stalling so I won easily.  Every hour or so, I didn't know at the time but the guy that steered me called the place to find out what was going on.  He kept calling and thus queered the action.  I won about $150 at $5 a game and when I left the store, I started walking toward Memphis with my thumb out hitch-hiking.  They all came outside and watched me walking down the road toward Memphis.  About a mile down the road, my steer-man picked me up and asked me how I did.  I told him and he said that's not right and that he called the joint and they told him I won a lot more than that.  I told him that after all those unexpected calls, he queered the action and they were suspicious such that my opponent would never raise the bet so I just kept beating him like a drum.  My steer-man was not too smart. 

Tacoma Whitey:  I played George Michaels in his showroom on a 4x8 table he made.  It was a hard table for me in that the pockets were shimmied and the rails were too high for the cue ball.  No matter what english I put on the cue ball and I play with more english than any other pool player I know of, the rails would pinch the cue ball, deadening the roll and increasing the angle off the rail.  He started out beating me and laying down the hustle, ribbing me, "Young man, you play this game really well."  His stroke (pump handle) was the closest to mine I had seen.  After we raised the bet, I was adjusting to the table and now winning, he cussed and bad-mouth me saying, "I've met a thousand guys like you."  He no longer showed respect but demonstrated distain instead.  Some time after that, I played him one game of 9-ball for $20; he won and quit.  I woofed at him a little bit for quitting after one game so his temperament changed in that he acted angry, reached into his pocket, pulled out the $20-bill and tore it up.  Certainly unexpected behavior for most gamblers.  I don't know the details but heard he committed suicide some years later.

Rich Geiler:  I didn't know Stuttering Rich was from St Louis.  I've never lost a race to 15 and both Dan Louie and Geiler both had me 14 to 9 (9-ball with Dan and 8-ball against Rich) and I run 6 and out.  Against Dan, I jumped a whole ball on Whitey's 4x8, combo'd the nine and ran 5 more racks to take the cash.  Playing Rich 8-ball, I kicked a ball in the corner and followed it two rails for shape on the 8-ball for the win.

Yakima, Washington:  There was a big Indian who played me $100 a game.  A real nice guy and once I stayed for a cheap tournament.  The squalls were playing also.  We played all night and they were so drunk, I had to quit to go to another bigger tournament in Kennewick in 1982.  I won the tournament and that was the first trophy I kept since I retired from pool shortly thereafter.  In my earlier years, I would give my trophies away, usually to a girl I met while there.  After starting a new career with the Treasury Department and only playing in weekly pool leagues, I still played good enough to win over 50 Utah/Nevada county and state pool tournaments from 1983 to 1997.  The latter was 2^nd place and I haven't won any money playing pool since.  Omaha John and I were in a lot small tournaments that led to action later.  I always won the 8-ball tourneys and John would come in 2^nd.  John usually won all the 9-ball tournaments we were in.  On my first road trip with John, I took him to Chicago to play Tommy Spencer.  John was not as outgoing as I and he would humbly say that he couldn't beat Tommy and that Tommy had beaten him 3 times.  I told him not to worry because I'll put up all the money and that I knew he could beat Tommy.  I respected John's 9-ball game ever since he took his case $500 and spotted Joey Torma the call 8 playing 9-ball and beat Joey handily.  John also beat McCready and Matlock every way they played up to and including the call 8.  John said he would not take the last two though.  John was not in it for the glory like I was.  Five years (1977-1982) with John, he only lost to two players:  Don McCoy on Don's 4 ½ x 9 footer in Des Moines, Iowa and Earl Strickland at 9-ball in Oklahoma City.  I've beaten Earl 6 times and never lost to him; one time he quit even.  If John didn't feel right (stuck against Erman Bullard), he'd quit and come back the next day and play flawless.  I keep playing whether I felt good or not.  The last time I was in Ponca City, I won over $2000 pitching quarters to the spot against Earl.  Later, the owner, Danny wanted to throw Earl out after only losing 1 $1000-set to Matlock and quit.  They had guaranteed two sets but Earl said, "I can't help it if Surfer Rod beat me pitching coins before Dave got here."  I believe that was the time I was with Harry Platis and he left town without me.  I was staying at Danny's house and woke up one morning with his Doberman Pincher (had his teeth around and sizing up my arm).  Dave also beat Little David Howard and Buddy Hall freezing up $5000.  They showed me a lot of respect by wanting me to hold the stakes each time.  I became good friends with both Davids and partied at Matlock's house.  He was drunk one night about a year ago and stashed $800 but could not remember where it was.  He found it the night we were hanging out at his house.  You mentioned Harry Platis.  I was the first to teach Harry how to play one-pocket.  I stayed with him at his condo near Seattle and gave him lessons every day.  After me, Keith and then Cole Dixon also hang around and were staked by Harry.  Matter of fact, Harry Platis wanted to take me to Atlanta for a Lawyer's convention and trap some of his fellow attorneys.   We stopped in Ponca City and Harry backed me playing 8-ball against Dave Matlock.  If we had played a race to 15, I would have won but we played 8-ball 10 ahead for two days before Dave beat me.  It was 102 degrees and 99% humidity both days and for fear of a "jar," I was drinking nothing but a half-gallon of orange juice (kept under the pool table).  The table played wet and 7 foot faster than normal.  Humidity was part of the problem and effected me negatively since I use more english than anyone else.  We then played one-pocket (I had to give Dave a ball) and he won the first game so Harry quit.  Dave would not play even so Harry and I played each other.  I needed the money more than Harry did so I beat him right away.  He left alone on his trip to Atlanta and I remained in Ponca City.

Huntsville, Ala:  Do you know or heard about rigging one of those bowling machines with a remote control.  I was told afterwards that it might have been the case.  It was a small bowling machine where you slide the disk and hit the strike zone on one side or the other.  By hand, I was not that good but could score 300 points every time shooting the disk with a pool cue.  We both used a pool cue for $100 and I would score all strikes except for the last frame.  Regarding the latter, the machine would make funny noises and some of the pins remained.  My opponent scored perfectly without that funny noise.  I can't cry over spilled milk but I always wondered about that.  That I was suckered.

Bugs:  I was steered by a guy from an after hours Puerto Rican club to an all black joint to play Bugs some (to be politically correct) "dirty" 8-ball.  He would shoot my ball in and I would shoot his ball in, etc.  But I out-moved Bugs in that I would shoot his ball in and position the cue ball such that he could not shoot any of my balls in.  I won about $3500 and gave out many walking sticks that evening--$300 to my steer-man, $100 to the guy racking the balls (I said I would rack them but he insisted), $200 to the owner ($100 for owning the place and another $100 for holding the money), $300 to Bugs and last but not least, $10 to the cops who pulled me over for speeding.  I always heard they would take a bribe so when they hinted, "I know you don't want to go clear across town and take care of this …"  So I said "Well, I don't want to bribe you …"  He interrupted with, "Do what you think is right."  So I handed one of the policemen my driver's license and a ten-dollar bill.  He then returned my driver's license and said, "Good luck going home son."  Another time in Chicago, a cop was my steer-man.  Once in Detroit, I was steered by motorcycle gang members.  Another time in Chicago, I was winning about $300 playing 8-ball in an all black pool room.  They liked me and seemed to have fun playing me until the manager said, "Let's go." He said a member of the Blackstone Rangers was bird-dogging me and then left.  They were concerned that he might come back with his gang so the manager reached under the counter, pulled out a gun and escorted me to my car.  What nice guys they were, looking after me in the midst of potential danger.  Your book indicates you have been in that circumstance much more than I.  It seems that you had to split up the money too many ways.  I only had a partner if he could do something I couldn't.  For the first 15 years on the road, I traveled mostly alone; the last 5 (off and on), I traveled with Omaha John.  When I was young and cocky, I was over-confident with a large ego and thought no one could beat me (at anything).  We both have been through the school of hard knocks.

Billy Ray Sudan:  I owned him.  He was in with Dan Louie when I won that race to 15.  Billy gave me the call 8 and he wanted the 8 from Dan Louie.  So when I accepted the 8 from Dan Louie, Billy thought it was a lock.  He sure found out differently.  After I won the set against Dan, Vince Frane was in with me and told me to pull a Ronnie Allen trick and say, "Now, you have to bet $2000."  Hearing this, Billy became so mad and stormed down from the balcony saying, "I'm going to get my brother up here and break both of your arms."  Not intimidated, I said calmly, "Billy, you're bigger than I, how come you don't do it yourself."  He stormed off and I turned to Dan Louie and told him I wasn't going to quit him and only said that because Vince had told me to--almost instigating an argument.  Even though, I have beaten Dan several times, I consider him a good friend and a class act.  One time Vince and I played partners against Rich Geiler and his partner for $20 a game (all night).  Vince and I split up $1800 at a fellow pool players house.  He would let anyone smoke inside.  Vince and I didn't smoke but the others did.  When we left his house, there was a big bowl full of cigarette butts.  We felt good about winning that many games from very good players.  I played BRS again in Missouri (I think I was getting the call 8).  We were playing push-out back then and I pushed out such that I had to jump a whole ball.  He told me to shoot again so I jumped an object ball to make the shot and run He turns to his backer and says that I was the best in the world jumping a whole ball. The backer asked, "Then why did have him shoot again?"  The last time I played BRS, It was in Oklahoma City.  I was getting the call 8 for $200 a game and was a few games ahead when BRS made the 9-ball and then picked up the cue ball while it was rolling and had enough speed to get to a side pocket.  I called, "Foul, you can't pick up the cue ball when it was rolling toward a pocket."  Again, Billy was fighting mad but his backer said, "The kid is right."  So we quit playing and I went over to the bar, sat down and ordered a Crown and water.  I was on my second drink when Billy came over and said, "Let's play for $400."  I said OK and I never concentrated on the break as much as I did that day.  I was getting action on the 8-ball across the rail to a side pocket and if I didn't make it on the break, I was running out.  I beat him ten in a row and he pulls up; I'm almost $5000 ahead.  So I send $5000 to my bank in Denver and have another $5000 to play in case he wanted to play some more the next day.  Billy and his backer left but I stayed around for a while and met a gal.  After a couple of drinks, she followed me to a restaurant at my motel complex.  She went to my room with me and I found out later she was a friend of Billy's.  I laid down on the bed pretending to go to sleep.  After a little while, I caught her out of the corner of my eye,  sneaking around in the dark.  I suspected she was up to no good so I didn't sleep at all and at first light, I checked out of my motel and checked into another motel by myself so as to get some quality sleep.  After I woke up and ate, I went back to the bar in which I had beaten Billy.  (I heard of Billy getting robbed before by a woman after partying all night with her but I was not falling for that trap.  At the bar, Billy called me but wanted to play for $10,000.  I only had $5000, so I knew Weldon Rogers was in town (business with Will W) so I called him telling him of the situation so he said he would put up the other $5000 on me.  We did not play though because Billy was just talking or couldn't get a backer so upon invitation, I went to Will's place in Woodward and watched an NFL game with him and his family.  I had been there one other time over the years and once it was for a Super Bowl.   We always had fun whether gambling with each other or not.  If you can't gamble with your friends, with whom can you gamble?  I hate to lose but win or lose, we always treated each other with respect back then.  I loved the action and the friends I met in Oklahoma and Texas.

Banking Benny "The Goose" Conway:  I over-matched myself once in Wichita, KS and offered Benny half his money back if he played me some 8-ball.  Little did I know I would get 8 games loser at $50 a game.  After a while, I got even, then won the next game (one game winner) and gave him $25 saying I quit unless he played even on the money.  He declined so the action was over and I was on the road again.

FBI:  I had a similar experience with the FBI in that I was playing Bakersfield Bob (Bill Dugan, the mayor of Longdale, OK was Bob's backer.  We had played $200 8-ball all night and we were dead even.  It was daylight, early in the morning and it was snowing.  A stranger walked in and asked to talk to me.  He was a FBI agent and had a picture a long-haired guy that looked a lot like me.  Anyway, he detained me for over ½ hour and then took me into the bathroom to show him whether or not I had and appendectomy scar.  Since I didn't, he determined that I was not the suspect so he left.  Meanwhile, Bob has been practicing.  I get back to our game a little shaken and Bob asks me to raise the bet to $300.  I accepted and he beat me 5 in a row ($1500) and I only had eighty-some dollars left so I was forced to quit.  Greedy Bob wanted to win my last $80 so he wanted to arm wrestle me for it.  When I lose all my money, the adrenalin really pumps through me such that I'm extra strong so I beat him arm wrestling in a few seconds, doubled my money and "on the road again."  Bob had beaten me twice so the next time I played him was in Amarillo, TX.  He busted me a third time and shortly thereafter, Dennis Porterfield came in with who I found out later was Grady Mathews.  They wanted play me one-pocket $100 a game on the bar table.  I had no more money left so Bob's backer, Will Willingham, was now my stake horse.  I beat Grady every game and won $600 so gave Will half ($300).  Greedy Bob now wants that $300 and asks me to play some more 8-ball $50 per game.  I agreed and before it was all over, I had won all the money Bob had beaten me out of before plus $5000.  I figured Will had to be upset and kicking himself in the butt for losing that much money when all he could win was $300.  That's when I learned a new move in that we were now playing for $200 a game.  Bob asked me to raise the bet to $300, I accepted, ran the rack and he stiffed me for the $300.  I'm sorry I learned that move because one time I was desperate and did the same thing but was not too proud of myself.

Jerry Brock:  Jerry beat me the first time not too far in a bar south of Memphis in Mississippi.  It was after hours with a gun in my view but Jerry seemed like a nice guy and I was not worried.  I beat him the next two times though playing one-pocket in Birmingham and last-pocket 8-ball in Mobile, AL.  For the cash, I had to jump a ball, bank my last ball and then draw my cue ball just enough to fit a small window, straight in for the 8 in my last-pocket.  That was when I was playing exceptionally well.  I pulled a similar shot against Jim Mataya in Las Vegas.  I'm the only player I know that has been barred (3 times) in a world's or major championship because I played too good or was attracting too much attention and taking customers away from the casino games.  There was a Las Vegas Tourney where anyone that qualified could play but the current champion; that would be Jim Mataya.  Jim asked me to play some 8-ball but I told him to wait until after I'm finished in the tournament.  He kept woofing, "If you're going to play me, play me now."  I did so and beat him out of $5000 then he complained to the promoters that they should let him play in the tournament because they let me play and I beat him for his cash.  He made such a stink that the tournament promoter asked me not to play so I honored his wishes.  I was in Las Vegas for a while and was legally qualified.  I can't remember the bar in which I qualified but I had a lot of fans and the owner of the bar made tee-shirts for me, etc.  I also held a Nevada Teacher Certificate (1976 -1981) for Secondary Education and was accepted to teach in the Clark County School System.  Another time was when I was playing Danny Medina in Wendover, NV (9-ball one-pocket, I was getting the break) for $900 a game and I was covering all side bets.  Not to brag but when I play, I tend to draw a crowd.  I was down one game when management barred just me from gambling (in Nevada?).  Next day, some of the pit bosses and dealers sympathized with me and told me that when I get into pool action, too many customers leave the casino play to watch me play.  Another time was in the late 60s when there was major pool tournament at Weenie Beanie's Jack & Jill's pool room in Alexandria, VA to which they charged admission.  I was in the next room on the snooker table betting $300 plus covering all side bets that with cue ball in hand, I could break and make all 15 red balls in a side pocket in 19 strokes.  That means I could not miss more than 4 shots.  I was drawing such a crowd that the tournament room was not making any money.  Therefore, management asked to not gamble while the tournament was going on.  Not a snooker player and looking back, I'm amazed I won at that proposition.

If you read my web site at http://www.rodcurry.com/index.htm, you can conclude, like you, I've used up my nine lives and lucky (and thankful to God) just to be alive.  Other than a bb-gun when I was a teenager, I have never owned nor carried any kind of weapons.  I do not like hurting anyone so I never kicked a man after I had to put him unconscious or knock/throw him down.  When I fought, it was mostly for self-defense.  I was more like Clint Walker (Cheyenne) and did not drink until later in life when I had large investment bills and other financial responsibilities.  When I went to a bar and drank orange juice or a soft drink, I could only get cheap action because they either thought I was a cop or a pool hustler.  If I got drunk with the locals first, I could end up playing for hundreds and made my nut.  Now, the only time I drink (Crown Royal) is when I play pool.  At my age, after one night of playing and drinking, it is hard getting out of bed the next day.  I also have arthritis and a pinched sciatic nerve.  In high humidity, my knees swell up and my bones ache.  High humidity also causes balls to jump faster off the rails at shorter angles.  I use more english than any other player I know of and the humidity decreases the amount of friction between the cue ball and the cue tip thus causing miscues.  Willie Mosconi (in his book) and most pool instructors say, in order to draw the cue ball, hit the cue ball one cue tip below center.  I hit the cue ball 2 ½ cue tips below center.  Like the numbers on a clock, ½ of the cue tip is on the number, usually 4, 5, 6, 7 or 8, and the other half is in space.  The only time I hit the cue ball close to the center is when I want to "walk" the cue ball sideways with a very hard stroke.

I've been hit in the head 4 times in my life as a result of a poor loser.  The first time was in 1964, in NYC when the owner and I had an argument, one of his patrons snuck up behind me and hit me in the head as hard as he could with a cue stick like a baseball bat.  I'm thinking, what's happening, I'm not going to fall down; well maybe I'll lay down for a while.  After hitting the floor, I immediately jump up, turned around and saw two young men backing out down the steps with one of them pointing a gun at me.  The 2^nd time was in Miami about 1965 when two guys were playing for money.  I put my quarter up to challenge but they said I couldn't challenge even though the house rules said I could.  Since I would not take my quarter back, one of them swung his cue stick like a baseball bat and hit me across my left cheek bone.  I took the cue away from him and then swung it at them until they ran out of the establishment.  I was not cut open either time but that cheek bone is more pointed than my other.  The third time was when I was traveling east across South Dakota.  A tornado was following me clear across that state.  I headed north to Pierre, SD and after I beat this big Indian playing pin ball, he snuck up behind me and broke a bear bottle over my head.  I had long thick hair thus a lot of padding.  It did not hurt at all but I threw him to the floor and told him to be cool and if he kept it up, I would have to hurt him.  As soon as I let him up, he ran to the wall mount and grabbed a pool cue.  I put him on the floor again; never hurt him, except for his pride when everyone saw him lose without me having to throw a punch.  I must confess, I have a hard head.

Cigarette span:  I played that guy that gave you a cigarette span in Birmingham but I was giving him a hand span instead.  I quickly saw that I could not win at that game.

Albuquerque Stevie:  I beat Stevie playing 8-ball on a bar table.  He also reminded me when I played a young kid in a small town in Mississippi.  His mother owns the place and stated we could play all night.  I was stuck in a stall and 8 games loser at $100 per game.  Later, I heard "last call" and I said I thought you said we could play all night.  He said there was nothing he could do.  So what do you do when you're 8 games stuck and only 15 minutes to play.  I played very very fast, hopping around the table address and shoot, address and shoot …  I was making a ball just about every second and won 8 games in a row in 15 minutes to get even.  The next day, I beat him easily.  I used that same technique as a hustle in 1970 at a Stockton, CA bar to beat all the locals as well as James Youngblood.  He said he was the Devil and I looked like Jesus so I said, "They call me Jesus so what chance do you have?"  Later on in Denver (late 70s), Youngblood came to town with Amarillo Sammy as his backer.  We agreed to play last-pocket 8-ball for $2000 per game.  James was going to shoot the 8-ball straight in so I reminded him he had to make the 8 in the last-pocket.  Otherwise, I thought he would be upset and only lose one game and quit.  Ironically, he kicked the cue ball around the table and made the 8-ball in the correct pocket.  He wins the next game and I'm out of money.  His backer Sammy gave me $12,000 cash for my gold 1975 Mercedes so I could keep playing.  I was down to my last barrel but won all my money back (including my Mercedes) except the first $2000.  I was not worried that anyone could beat me; I was concerned that my opponent might quit before I won enough.  Another time in Champaign, IL, I lost playing 3-cushion billiards to the Word's Champion 3-cushion Billiards player.  I lost the rest of my money playing on a 4 ½ x 9.  I matched up with the big table player to play me 9-ball on the bar table for $500.  I went to the owner of the restaurant at which I had eaten lunch and borrowed $500.  My collateral was my Mercedes.  He drove off in it and if I did not pay him back in two days, the Mercedes was his.  Luckily, I won the 9-ball match and retrieved my Mercedes.

Fountain Inn Red:  I beat Red on a 4x8 but not for that much.  The table was wet so with my Zamboti, I could draw a spot shot back past the side pockets.  I won most of the money pitching quarters to a crack in the floor.  With my pump handle stroke, I have to practice or play a long time before I get in stroke.  I believe that I pitch quarters better than I play pool because I never had to practice the former.  I beat your friend Artesian Kenny in Las Vegas pitching a quarter to the spot on the pool table for $500 a toss.  I kept reminding him the year on my quarter so as to avoid any argument.  On the final toss, I stuck my quarter about 3 inches past the spot.  On his toss, he hit my quarter and slid off far away toward the head of the table.  I won but he swore he hit my quarter, stuck his and pushed mine down the table.  Physics teaches us that was impossible.  He would not agree so I reminded him the date on my quarter. He still would not budge so I took the up money.  He didn't do anything because he (and everyone else) knew he lied.  Karma.  Dave Sizemore, San Diego Dave and Kenney cut me up along time ago near Greenville South, Carolina.  Sizemore double steered me into giving Dave a big spot.  Then they dumped me playing Kenney.  Then, the 4 of us took a little trip where I paid for the motel and I'm the stake horse of all three of them.  Needless to say, our arrangement did not last very long.  I don't know how you did it, having so many partners most of the time.  I heard Sizemore lived dangerously once too often and was killed for it.  I heard a story that Sizemore and Danny DiLiberto got into an argument and Danny being an ex-boxer said something like, "What are you going to do about it?"  Sizemore went outside to his car and come back with gun, pointed it to Danny's head and asked, "Now, what are you going to do about it?"  I heard Sizemore committed a similar act of violence with a shotgun in a Greenville pool room.  I believe in Karma.  I don't believe in dumping and unethical behavior.  The Truth is the philosophy of my life.

Harley Brian and Sam Blumenthal:  Sammy gave me the 5 and the break on a 4 ½ x 9' playing 9-ball and beat me handily.  He also had a pump handle stroke similar to mine and would drink a bottle of Cutty Sark as he beat me.  I won $500 (1 set) back by beating him even on a bar table.  I got the break and first shot from Harley playing on the big table.  I would break easy and park the cue ball such that I had a combo on the nine just about every time after the break.  I couldn't beat Harley even up in 9-ball though.  Once, Harley woke up Sammy while the latter was drunk laying in the street.  Harley brought Sammy to the pool room thinking he had the nuts but Sammy gave Harley a spot and beat him anyway.  I heard Sammy spotted Danny Jones 15 points in snooker and beat him when Danny was the World Snooker Champion.  Danny Jones is a nice man but I busted pitching quarters to the spot on the pool table.  I parked mine while he was trying to slide his to the spot.

Harold Prince:  I heard about Harold and Rosenthal (owned Tropicana Hotel in Vegas) playing for big money.  I also heard that Harry Platis and Keith played the latter in a partner game for big bucks.  I couldn't catch Harold until about the third time I was through Medford, OR.  The first time, I took Robby Talbot from the Buzzard's Roost with me.  His dad asked me to let Robby ride along as far as Medford to see the life of a pool player on the road.  He was good company and we got along well.  The next time I was in Portland, he introduced me to his sister.  She and I had a small romantic adventure for a little while but we parted company before it became too serious.  I still love them both as friends.  Anyway, the only time I've been beaten up was after hours playing Harold Prince at his club.  I was drinking Crown Royal and water and giving Harold the 7, 8, 9 and all the breaks.  After every game, I had to drink a shot of Crown Royal on the side.  Before closing, I was stumbling and pretty soon, I couldn't stand up, much less play good pool.  After they chased all the spectators out, there was only me, Harold, Harold's big brother (looked like he weighed about 300 lbs), the bouncer and the barmaid.  I remember beating Harold out of $1500 at $500 a game and most of it was in five dollar bills.  The next game, he gave me a personal check for $500.  After a money ball was made out of turn, we would use the striped balls such as 12, 13 and 15 as the money balls for the 7, 8 and 9.  Once on the break, Harold made a striped ball and the barmaid instigated an argument by falsely stating that was one of his pay balls.  I said, "No, I'm not going for that; that's not one of his pay balls."  If I was thinking instead of drinking, I would have given his personal check back then come back tomorrow when he had some more money.  But when they acted like they were going to jump me, I tore off my shirt ready to oblige.  I fought my way to a side door, twisting my ankle on a step down I couldn't see and made it to the door but it was locked.  When I turned back around, I didn't see the punch but one of the guys cold-cocked me and I went to the floor.  Immediately, they all jumped on top of me, each holding my arms and legs while one of them emptied my pockets.  Earlier, I had pulled my big bankroll out with all the fives and I spewed my whole bankroll all over the floor.  I was on my hands and knees crumbling up the money and stuffing all my pockets. If it was a movie, it would have been a funny sight.  Half-conscious, I told them to not to take my driver's license.  They unlocked and threw me out the side door.  Off the curb, I sprained my right ankle again and I was bleeding profusely over my left eye as I walked back to my motel a few blocks down the street.  When I woke up some hours later, the pillow was soaked in blood.  I took a shower and taped a butterfly patch over my left eye.  The cut was only a little over ½ inch so the butterfly patch worked good toward not leaving much of a scar.  I went back to Harold's club and his daughter fed me lunch and asked me what happened, I told her that I beat her dad playing pool so he and his associates beat me up and stole the money back.  My face was a mess and I let it be known that I wanted the money I started with ($2100) back or I was going to the D.A.  Harold was in touch by telephone but none of them showed their face.  One of the locals sympathized with me and took me to Harold's home.  He sent the $2100 and his apologies out to me via his wife, hoping I would leave town.  I went back to Harold's club and the bouncer was there.  I told him, "Now, I want my pool cue."  It was my one and only Tad.  The bouncer said they through it out on the sidewalk with me last night.  I told him, "I'm not leaving town without my cue stick."  The bouncer acting tough said, "Come with me."  I thought that we were going to fight again but he led me into the back room and retrieved my cue from where they had it hidden.  I got everything back except my Omega watch.  I had forgotten I had taken it off and handed to Harold's big brother earlier in the pool match because the latch would keep coming undone.  So I got back on the road and could hardly see because the sun was giving me a headache.  I was playing pool in the bigger cities along the way to Portland and you can imagine what the onlookers were thinking.  My whole face was black and blue but I met a nice lady who didn't seem to mind how my face looked.  Time heals all wounds and it is amazing how our tissues rejuvenate themselves after an injury.  Now, you can barely see the scar in that it fits right in with my wisdom wrinkles.  After my wounds had healed, I ran into Leo Newberry just north of Portland.  I beat him playing 8-ball but couldn't beat him playing 9-ball.  We hung out and ended up partying together after the action died down.  He always had access to some lovely ladies.

You mentioned Shuffleboard:  I was not that good at shuffleboard but found some action in the northwest playing a variation, namely horse collar.  In Nashville, I played the latter daily and made some good money at that game.  Similar to one-pocket, it is all about speed control.  Hangers were worth 13 points.  Once in Oklahoma City, I matched up with a gambler who spotted me 3 points in horse collar and with the break and ball in hand, I spotted him every ball on the table in 9-ball ($50 on each).  He never won a game in either proposition.  Matter of fact, he did not even shoot playing 9-ball; I ran every rack (7 racks) before he quit.

Andy DeJesus:  When I lived and went to school in Denver, I went to Colorado Springs and Andy, who owned a strip joint, not only staked a couple of players in pool, he beat most of them playing "scratch" pool.  But he  couldn't beat me--when it comes to cue ball control propositions, that's my strong suit even though I had never played the game before.  He quit before I could win very much though.

Steve Gumphrey:  I can hear his distinctive voice now, "That's right, yeah, yeah."  I'm sure he is in pool playing heaven.  He was a good friend and fun to be around.  We were in Little Rock, Arkansas (late 70s?) for a pool tourney promoted by Richie Ambrose and a local club owner.  While Richie was running the tournament, little did he know, his girlfriend took a liking to me.  My beard now is as white as his was back then.  I had never met him but Mike Sigel approached me to play.  I told him I would play some 8-ball.  $500 a game, "He asked."  I said, "Yes" and pulled out my $500.  He walked across the room and huddled up with Floyd Baxter, Larry Hubbard, Bob Meucci, Terry Bell, etc.  He came back and said I had to spot him two balls so we never played.  I had already beaten Larry Hubbard and Terry Bell wouldn't even bet me in the tournament (8-ball on a 4x8).  I've seen their act before.  They either point and stare or they all pooled their money when they played me.  Later on in Colorado Springs, I heard that Meucci was a champion at the masse' shot.  Telling Bob M what I heard, I challenged him to a masse' proposition.  I believe he said, "No, maybe tomorrow."  Tomorrow came and as I walked into the room, I see him stroking a hard masse' with a very big arc--the cue ball was at one corner and the 8 was at the other corner down the long rail.  An object ball was near the side pocket on the other side of the table.  I saw him attempt the shot once or twice and came close.  I asked him, "Are you ready?"  "Ready for what?," he asked.  I said, "For our masse' contest."  He said, "No." I ask, "Why?"  He said, "I don't have stick."  Everyone in the room laughed.  At that time, he probably had more pool cues than anyone in the world.  So I was unable to get any action from him until he went in with Larry Hubbart.  Back in Arkansas, Buddy Hall won the tourney but didn't get paid, nor did I (fourth place).  No one in the top 5 got paid except Mike Sigel, who came in fifth.  Is that cronyism or what?  Later on down the road Buddy visited me saying, "Rod, I've always wanted to play you but every time I see you, I'm a little short on money."  I like Buddy Hall; what an honest and nice champion.  Did you know Sherri Sewell from Oklahoma City?  She was gorgeous and very smart.  She and I had a fling, made money together and had a lot of fun on the road.  She also went on the road with Buddy, a priori.  I met her mother and could tell they were really close.  And since she introduced me to her mother, I felt she must have liked me as much as I did her.  When they had that first $25,000 tournament in Las Vegas, Warren "Monk" Castanza beat Mike Sigel in the finals and she was knocking the 9 in from everywhere and won the women's first place ($5000).  Too bad for me in that we parted company when we arrived in Vegas.  On the way there though, Omaha John was with us and she beat us both playing gin rummy.

Popcorn:  I played him in South Miami Beach (Calypso Lounge, 12^th and Washington), my first home on the road (1964).  How's that for a memory?  Matter of fact, I copied his stand-up style of play.  I mostly slow rolled everything back then but I beat everybody playing 8-ball on that table.  With perfect speed, I could shoot a ball down the rail (on either side of the table) and make it in the side pocket.  I even beat Bernie (Pots and Pans) Rogoff and Johnny Irish with a broom handle.  Two local hustlers would round us all up and play cards all night.  They acted like they went into a convenience store and bought the cards (red or blue diamonds on the back).  I think they were called "Bees."  I had an efficiency apartment for $25/week and we usually played there (in the winter, rates went up to $75/night).  They beat us out of our money every weekend until I wouldn't play cards anymore.  So, they told me about the factory-marked cards and cut me in on the winnings thereafter.  Later on when I went north and after the pool action, we would play cards all night (DC, MD, NYC, etc).  Many times, they would use the very same kind of cards to cheat us suckers.  Little did they know that I could read them also.  Furthermore, they played loose but I would not let them see the back of my whole card/s.  It was usually dealer's choice and stud poker was popular.  One time, I busted these guys in Rockville, MD.  They were using the same cards so you know the outcome.  I had already beat everyone in the joint with a broom handle.  They rode with me and steered me to an all night pool room in DC.  When we arrived, one of them was tired and wanted to sleep in the car.  I won a little bit after a while and then I took them home.  Little did I know, the guy left alone in my car broke into the trunk of my car via the back seat and stole $800 I had stashed.  They saw me go to my trunk when I was playing earlier with the broom handle.  I went to the police and right away (one of them was named, "MO"), the officer flopped down their pictures.  They didn't or couldn't do anything though so I went on my way.  I ran into those guys again but never mentioned their theft; I just busted them once more using the same cards thus getting my $800 back plus some more of theirs.  I didn't document that much during my travels but I have a hundred more stories in my brain to be interrogated sometime before I'm prone to Alzheimer's.  I wish I didn't throw away my old road atlas.

I played all kinds of cards in the Navy but I never cheated.  We played poker, hearts, cribbage, canasta, etc).  One time I stayed on my ship for 4 months without going to shore (Norfolk, VA).  In 4 years, I saved 90% of my pay ($3500).  I lost it all in one game not a week after my honorable discharge.   I was getting the 8 and the break playing 9-ball.  Little did I know that a lot of players were pea-cocking me.  Some told me later that it looked like I didn't care about the losing my money.  Oh, I cared; I just didn't show it.  I came back a year later and beat the same guy even.  His name was Suitcase and lived near my uncle in Berryville, VA.  In that same year (1964), I hustled up some money and bought a 1960 white Corvair for $800.  Not long after, I was driving at night toward a bar in Charlestown, West Virginia.  I came to a hill which was clear but on the other side of the hill, the road was curvy and there was ice on the road such that I skidded off the road.  I saw headlights coming toward me and the back end bumper hooked into a fence (wire in about 6-inch squares) on the other side of the road and pulled me to a stop.  My car was now perpendicular to the road and cars lights were still approaching so I picked up the front end and dragged the car off the road to the side.  That's when I found out I could lift up cars.  Of course, the engine is in the back therefore lighter than most cars.  I called a towing company from my home town and had it towed back there (Front Royal, VA).  They said that the transmission was torn apart and after towing charges, they gave me $15.  I bought me an older car (Ford with a Thunderbird engine) and headed north.  I made money along the way but the Ford (fix or repair daily) fell apart (the crank shaft was wired together with a close hanger).  I ran into Peter Rabbit a lot on the east coast.  He was full of propositions and couldn't believe I improved that much in a few years, I was beating so called champions he would not dare to play.  I have lots of stories from my experiences up and down the east coast.  Since I had no car at the time, I met a guy with a car willing to drive us (me and another guy) south to Florida before the weather got too cold.  I found out that I was the only one with any cash though.  I was putting all the gas in his car and when we got to Florida, he got a speeding ticket (which I had to pay).  Then a tire went out and he had no spare so I had to buy him another one.  By the time we arrived in Hollywood, FL, I only had $18 left.  We used that to buy an efficiency for one week.  I would hustle the bars up and down Highway 1 and A1A, barefooted.  The first night, I won enough to buy a quart of milk and a loaf of bread for the three of us.  After the week was up, the driver got a job and I ended up in South Miami Beach.

I thought it was in Cape Girardeau, MO but you are probably correct since you spent more time in the area than I.  Namely, the restaurant where the owner tossed rolls across the room to his customers.  It was a fun place.  I had lunch there one day.  The large milk I ordered was in one of those quart-size canning jars.  In the middle of my lunch, the owner comes out and says, "Who wants a roll."  The customers started raising their hands (including me) and he would toss everyone a roll until he was out of them.  Then he would go and get some more.  I was surprised not one was dropped accidentally.  I said to myself, I have to try this diner again so the next day was sort of like the first instead he came out and asked, "Who wants a devilled egg?"  Then he would proceed to toss devilled eggs all over the place.

Dexter, MO:  I went through Dexter several times and usually made good money there.  I planned my road trip routes around a home base and it usually took me 4 years to get back to the same town.  When I was in Popular Bluff, they told me about a pool player named "Cotton."  I thought they were referring to an older man but could that be you?

You mention Bill Lee, a stake horse:  I believe I was in a tournament promoted by Ronnie Allen in Burlington, Iowa.  I was hanging around Denny Searcy, Bill Lee and another guy, who I thought was Denny's primary stake horse.  I bet on Denny every time he played and he ended up winning the tournament. They were 4 ½ x 9 and I had the high run in 8-ball (4 racks).  One day, I was not scheduled to play so I told Ronnie that fact, that I was going across the river for some bar table action and I asked him if he changed my schedule to call me at such and such club.  Well, he changed my schedule but did not call me.  Rather, he forfeited me out to one of his Chicago friends.  What a creep!  The only thing I liked about Ronnie besides his one-pocket play, was his memory.  He remembered all the referees by name.  Later down in Louisiana after the rooster fights, he promoted another tournament (this time on a bar table).  He knocked my action in that over the microphone, he said he would give anybody a ball playing one-pocket except that kid (pointing at me).  I did get to beat my friend St Louis Louie playing 9-ball.  I believe I got the 8.  We became friends and I had him jogging with me trying to clean him up.  He liked to take all kinds of pills so I wanted to get him healthy.  I found out later that Ronnie Allen came to town with just a roll of quarters.  Omaha John had busted him just before Ronnie left California to come to Louisiana.  A big guy with no money found a hundred dollar bill on the floor and asked Ronnie at whom should they fire the C-note?  Ronnie chose me.  I only had $1000 so Ronnie played me 8-ball for $100 and ran the first 6 racks.  When my turn came, Ronnie would stand in my line of sight and talk (shark) to me.  I told him to play like a gentleman and that I never said a word while he was shooting.  He said, "I can talk if I want to and if you don't like it, quit."  Then he said, "Now, you have to bet $200."  I lost two more games and I was broke.  That same fat guy ended up in Tampa, FL and made a lot of money investing in gold.  Later, in Tampa, he was staking Steve Cook against me in 8-ball at the "North Bar."  Steve beat me so I asked him if he wanted to play Omaha John some 9-ball.  He said he would so I called John to fly to Tampa.  He was there the next day but before he arrived, I was still playing Steve 8-ball.  Steve was my opposite in that he drank a lot but never when he played pool.  I don't drink unless I play pool.  When John arrived, the biggest gambler in town also was standing around.  First, bragging on me and then said that he could beat me himself.  I said, "OK, I'd rather play you anyway."  I only had $200 dollars left and I had to give him 8 to 3 playing one-pocket, I break for $500 per game.  I borrowed $300 from the big fat guy and beat the rich guy the first game.  Then he raised it to a thousand and I agreed.  I beat him just about every game and won $6000.  The big fat guy won $7000 betting on me.  John and I split the $6000 but instead of the fat guy giving me a jelly roll, he had the gall to ask for the $300 back--the money he loaned me earlier.  So I gave him the $300.  Steve had been beating me for a week so we play some more and a ball skidded and I started to win my money back.  After I won my money back from Steve, I heard him under is breath, "One ball skidded and my whole world caved in."  I went on to beat him playing 8-ball, then one-pocket.  Remind me to show you one of the shots I had to make.  He needed one and I needed two balls.  He froze the cue ball on the end rail on the first diamond diagonal from his pocket.  His out ball was close to his pocket such that I couldn't hit the side rail first for fear of scratching, nor the end rail for fear of a double kiss.  The other ball was about ½ a diamond from my hole and ½ inch from the rail.  I'm a champion on a 3 x 6 and know double-kiss shots but must have left spin on the cue ball at contact (maximum spin and minimal velocity) but remember, the cue ball is frozen on the rail.  So, I jack up my cue stick, aim for the side pocket, poke the cue ball, down and through the left side such that it curved back from the rail (little masse') and hit my object ball perfectly such that it had just enough spin to double-kiss it in.  Then, I banked the other ball back and forth, 3 rails into my pocket for the win.  The next day, John beat Steve at 9-ball pretty handedly so we both were pumped up and "on the road again."

Oak Park (near Chicago), IL:  In 1969, I ran into a little pool action at a club in Oak Park.  They had a nice band and pretty waitresses.  The owner played me liar's poker and I made over $1000.  They were cheating me though.  Her husband was in the back room stacking the new bills and one of the waitresses brought them to us in place of the used ones.  By the way she was betting, I could tell when she had a powerhouse hand, I made my calls accordingly and took home the cash.  I had a travel trailer parked at a nearby facility but I was attracted to a nice good looking waitress so I went home with her instead.  She was not in on it but the other waitress who brought us the bills was her room mate.  I had sent a $1000 home, kept some in my pockets and put $1000 between the mattresses of her bed.  The other waitress must have told them that I was staying there so they sent over a thief to rob me.  I was awaken by man with salt and pepper hair and a gun pointed at me.  My girlfriend was scared and he told me not to look at him and asked, "Where's your money?"  I told him it is between the mattresses so he took the money and left.  Some of the guys at the club who had taken a liking to me, heard about the robbery and told me they didn't like the owners anyway and if I just gave them the word, they would burn the place down.  I said, "No, I'm going back there as if nothing was wrong.  I'll be polite and kill them with kindness."  Sure enough, by doing the right thing, I went back there and won $2000 more playing pool, then left town.  Karma and/or Someone up there is looking over me.

Chicago:  In an earlier trip to Chicago, my steer-men were 3-card monte/red card players.  I watched them in action outside the race track.  Three or four of them acted as a team and onlookers would stop and see people winning so they would try it also.  However, no one saw the sucker lose.  When that happened, the team members would shield the sucker from the view of onlookers.  The sucker would mope off with his tail between his legs and they would beat another unsuspecting sucker.  In pool, they steered me to a bar in the South Side.  Even though they had guns, they were scared of this certain tush hog in the joint.  So, I went in alone, won a few hundred before one of the guys took a swing at me.  I countered and used his momentum against him and threw him over my leg to the floor.  Like before, I told him to be cool else I would have to hurt him.  The other guys had their mouths open so I tipped the bartender and left.  I didn't really hurt him but I hurt his pride in front of his peers.  It happened to be the guy they were scared of and they were astonished that I put the guy down so easily.

Besides Cheyenne, another roll model of mine when I was a kid was James Garner/Bret Maverick (he had a thousand dollar bill pinned inside his jacket).  When I first went through Dallas, I had two thousand dollar bills and flashed them when I was beating the Creeper, U.J. Puckett and everybody else I played.  I won enough money in Wichita, KS to buy a new 1966 Chevelle SS 396 with thousands to spare.  The locals played every day for a month.  They tried to get Greg Stevens to come back to Wichita so they could get their money back from me.  Greg was giving up big spots in North Carolina, yet still winning.  He never showed up in Wichita so I headed south making a lot of money in Oklahoma along the way.  Once, through Oklahoma City, I sent John out alone because most of the players knew me.  When he returned to the motel, I asked how he did.  He said he heard them over the phone, "I don't know who he is but he has Surfer Rod's Car."  John said he parked a block away.  I never cared who I played or to see what kind of car my opponent had.  Another time, at Chester Truelove's pool room, we lost some money playing "the house" and dealing to guy playing black jack.  I can't remember exactly but I think he beat us out of a thousand or two.  Afterwards, we went to a bar and John got some cheap action and one of the guys bet me on the side.  We bet on every table.  He let me pick a table and then he picked a table; I'd pick a table and he would pick a table.  It didn't matter if John won or not so I told John just keep playing his guy cheap such that he doesn't because I was betting on the best players on two other tables.  He complied and when split it up, John won about $20 and he was thrilled I had made $3000 on the side bets.

Did you ever run in to Charlie West from Conroe, TX?  He owned a salvage yard and loved to bet.  He didn't mind if I bet on him or against him.  Like me, he covered all bets when he gambles.  Just before or after I retired in 1983, I flew down and stayed with Charlie at his home  He wanted to back me against Grady with me getting 3 balls and the break playing one-pocket for $5000.  Grady and I made a date but instead of Grady showing up, he sent Old Man Bill Amadeo to play me all night for $10 just to wear me out.  (while I'm writing this, 60 minutes is doing special on a big gambler named Billy Walters; do you know him?).  Bill and I played 8-ball on the big table and you not only have to call the ball and pocket but you must call which hole you are going to shoot the next ball in also.  We played all night and I won as much as could be expected at $10 a game.  Sure enough, Grady came in 24 hours after our scheduled time and played me 9-6 and the break.  He could do no wrong.  Where I hung up the object ball, he would hang up the cue ball.  With that little cue ball, when I use outside english, I beat the rail.  With inside english, I over cut the object ball.  That's deflection.  The only way I can make a ball on that equipment is not to use much english.  The latter is my whole game.  Like the suckers say, "He's not that good; he never has a hard shot."  If I can't spin it, I can't win it.  Cue ball control is the name of the game for me.

Grady Mathews (Good luck; bad luck; what a week):  In 1980, when Omaha John and I arrived in Colorado Springs for a big pool tournament at a plush hotel, he buys and reads the newspaper like he usually does.  We were alarmed to see the Regal 8 Motel in Grand Island, Nebraska was completely destroyed.  All they could find were a few plumbing fixtures.  That is were we stayed the night before and checked out only hours before the tornado hit.  Another near miss so I can only thank the Good Lord in Heaven.  The first day in Colorado Springs at Grady's joint, Fat Randy from Tulsa, OK got me in stroke playing 9-ball, I got the eight.  We played for 24 solid hours then it was tournament time.  When someone made a comment about me, Randy would say, "He's crazier than I am."  Previously, I beat Grady every game of one-pocket on a bar table but he beat me 9-6 and the break on the big table.  If I had only stuck to the bar table.  One of the hotels had a pool tourney and all the champions were there.  I beat them all for $500 on the bar table in Grady's joint.  I only lost one game all week (to Larry Hubbart, whom I have beaten every time) and you should have seen my out shot for the cash.  Playing one-pocket for $500 a game, he needs one ball and I need two.  His ball was about 2 inches from his pocket frozen on the end rail.  I had a long bank and I slammed it in with force follow draw (what an arc) such that I practically drew it back into his pocket but just caught the side rail and double-kissed the last ball and ended up straight in my hole for the cash.  I won $11,000 for the week and then lost it all to Grady and the "rail" on his big table in one night.  Grady and I were playing for $800 per game and I took all side bets (about $1500 on the side).  Omaha John was in with me.  I never quit but I asked John how come he stuck with me and he said, "Well, I just watched you beat 30 players in a row and you always came back before."  In the old days, we didn't leave our colleagues broke; Grady gave me an $800 walking stick.  So you grind on the road again until next time.

Dave Knottingham:  I don't usually badmouth anybody, especially the deceased but I ran into Dave a lot on the road.  He was tight with his money and I only seen him bet on sure things.  On one of my first trips to Vegas, Dave steered me and I split up a lot of money with him.  One time when I went broke, I called Dave for a small loan, he declined.  So I guess I could not call him a friend.  The local bookie here in Utah use to be Dave's road partner.  The former groomed Dave and generously gave him a place to stay and some of his bookie action.  Back then, I called Dave to bet on some NFL games.  After the last time I bet with Dave, he died in his friend's home here not very far from where I live.  I was loser that week and my former bookie collected what I owed Dave and then would not fade any more of my action.  That's good though because now, I play the stock market instead.  They don't charge near as much "juice."  That's bad though because I lost ½ of my IRA in 2008 after the Democrats took control of Congress and lost the other half when Obama was elected President.  I'm in it for the long haul though with all of my IRA money in the Energy sector.  I'm coming back a little now and when pertinent regulations are relaxed and taxes decreased, there will be more certainty and the money on the rail will be put back in action such that I can build back up my IRA.

Roger (Tiny) Wilson (300 lbs):  Tiny use to live here and managed the Denny's in Roy, UT.  He comes and goes.  I beat him for the Weber County 8-ball Championship in 1990.  Sometimes he is a stake horse against me and sometimes he bet on me.  I couldn't win with a cue stick so I beat one of the Mexican champions in Vegas where we both played with the butt end of the rake.  He never won a game and Tiny was betting on me.  One time I partnered up with a local here in Utah and beat Tiny and his partner playing 8-ball.  In the afterwards conversation, he called me a liar.  The Truth is the philosophy of my life so I went from a hustler to honest effort (no more stalling).  Back to Tiny calling me a liar, I said, "That's fighting words where I come from."  He said, "What are you going to do, beat me up?"  I said, "All I have to do is tackle you by the ankles and you'll never get up."  I thought later, what if he would have fell on me if I did tackle him by his ankles.  Similarly to what I did to the Round Man, another 300-pounder after he called me a liar.  I had just went busted staking Boston Joey at the Vegas tournament side room action.  I was working for minimum wages at the time and I could only get a thousand dollars out of the machine every 24 hours.  My limit is 10 times that much now but the Round Man loaned me $100 so I bought us both a fifth of Crown Royal.  When mid-night came, I got $1000 from the ATM machine and paid him the $100.  A while later after I lost some more money, he approached me (now, we're both drunk) and asked, "Where is my money?"  I said, "What money?  I paid you that $100 hours ago."  He called me a liar so without thinking, I picked him up and body slammed him on the floor.  Security came and told me, "Let's go."  I said, "I'm not going anywhere until he apologizes."  The Round Man apologized and I went to my room.  I didn't stay there long though.  I borrowed Chino's hat and jacket and returned to the pool room in disguise.  Security was not the wiser.  There were 4 or 5 guys sleeping in my room (even after I paid my bill and checked out) and I was the only one paying the bill.  There was Keith, Sebastion "Chino" Franko from L.A., another "Tiny" Roger from Utah, etc.  The last time I was in Vegas, I believe I was jarred before I lost all my money.  I've never blacked out in my life from drinking Crown Royal (the only alcoholic beverage I drink and only when I play pool) or any other substance but I blacked out playing that tush hog from Tennessee.  I'm not accusing anyone but who did I see close around me?  Ronnie Allen, Round Man, Keith McCready and the Tennessee tush hog.

Mark Tadd:  I taught Mark a lot in one-pocket in that while I was working at Hill AFB, I use to give him a ball playing one-pocket on a 4x8 in the 80s.  I like him and consider him a friend now but he use to run his mouth and he beat me in Grady's 1993 tournament in Reno.  I almost beat him on that big table except outside english betrayed me in that my cue ball deflected and double-kissed the object ball and left him a hanger.  You were there and your girlfriend Jeanie was beautiful.  I brought $6500 with me and right away, Harry Platis and I played some $500 one-pocket.  I think I was giving him a ball.  I raised the bet to $1000 and won one game and he quit.  I also played partners with Keith McCready against Dan Louie and his partner.  I put up all the money for Keith and me.  On the first game, I made a ball on the break and ran 7 balls.  Keith managed to scratch twice and we lose the game.  He played so bad, it looked like he was dumping me.  He said we would play them again tomorrow and he would put all the money.  Tomorrow never came.  Then Harry Platis makes a game with Amarillo Slim (a former champion) where Harry and I were partners while Slim was his own partner for $5000 and we had to give slim 9-7.  I like Harry but looking back, that looked like "business" also.  At the same time, "I was playing Strawberry on another table for $200 a game in which I was getting 9-6 and the break.  I was playing good until they turned off the heat.  The place got cold, clammy and wet.  There was a brutal snow blizzard outside.  Even the airports were closed.  Cornbread Red should have won the tournament but he ducked too much and hardly ever went for his hole.  That was not the Cornbread Red I remembered.  I didn't go broke though (had $2500 left when I got home).  It also looked "funny" when Harry was playing Jimmy Mataya's brother.  I beat Jimmy playing 8-ball in Lansing Michigan when he was only 18.  I did lose a small bet ($100) though to his brother running a foot race.  Something I had never done (I have short legs) but I usually call all bets.  Anyway, I started off like gang-busters and I was half around the track (he was way behind me) when one of the metal poles was bent across the inside of the track.  It was getting dark and I didn't see it so I tripped on it and fell.  I yelled, "Foul."  He was good about it so we both started again from the bent pole.  I was all winded out by then and he beat me easily to the finish line.   Mark was also staked against me when I was working for the government playing a set of 8-ball for $1000.  I need one game; he needs two.  I thought, if I break safe, I've got the nuts.  But then I think, "No, he's been nice this time" so I break them wide open, nothing goes and he runs out the next two racks to beat me.  I lost two of my best friends (Mike Butterfield and Rick Gorringe) from Salt Lake City.  Mike died of cancer and Rick died in an operation that went wrong.  Only the good die young and I will see them again if I make it (to Heaven).  We had a lot of fun competing in Utah and in Vegas.  In 1991, we won first place in the UAMA Team Championship (Western Division) in Las Vegas.  We beat the team who won first place overall, but they represented two divisions where they got to lose twice and we could only lose once.  I was in action for two days and weak in the finals.  Tim Joseph was the star of our team that year.  Although I lost some money playing a Mexican Champion, I won my money back when we both played with the back end of a "rake."  He never won a game in that proposition.  You were wrong about our oriental friend (from SLC) saying he would take a machete after his opponents.  He only did that once to my knowledge and that was after some bullies backed him into a corner, per se.  Don't think bad of Little George; I use to give him two balls playing one pocket and he was always a perfect gentleman.

Summary:  Is that enough stories for you?  Almost enough to write another book!  or a sequel to your movie, Poolhall Junkies.  Of course in person, you can appreciate my stories about U.J. Puckett and Omaha Fats, I can sound and act like them, especially Omaha Fats.  You're welcomed to forward this to Sydney if you like.  And/or, I can put this on my web site with a link to yours and vice versa.  Let me know what your thoughts.  When did you say you were coming this way?  You're welcome to stay at my place if you have no other arrangements.  I have an extra bedroom and I'm usually free except one day per week when my daughter brings over my grandkids to visit.  They are a joy.  I'll show you their pictures sometime.  I only play pool when someone calls me so I haven't had any action for a couple of years--not since Mike Schulz and Tommy Baker beat me.  They both gave me one ball and the break playing last-pocket 8-ball with BD staking them both.  From lack of playing, I usually always start off losing the first few days until I catch a stroke.  The last time I played, Tommy had me $1800 loser and when I finally started shooting good, I won two games in a row for $300.  Seeing this, he was looking for an excuse to quit.  He had an easy kick shot to his hole but he lost his stroke such that his cue ball hit the rail first and both the 8-ball and cue ball rolled toward the middle of the table.  I called, "Foul" but he claimed he hit the 8-ball first.  I guess I was the only one with a good angle to see the shot accurately.  I have degree in mathematics so I know about angles and vectors.  But even if I did not see the shot, I can always tell whether or not it was good hit by where the balls end up.  If he had hit the 8-ball first, both the 8-ball and cue ball would end up close to the long rail rather toward the middle of the table.  I may have had a straight on long bank to my hole but it was the principle at issue.  I don't believe in cheating or lying; evidently, Tommy does.  When I was on the road, I first started out like you, renting a kitchenette and hanging around certain spots.  Later on though, I would "hit and run."  The latter had it's advantages in that the next time through, I would beat someone else.  When I hang around too long after beating a player, the other players hear about it and get a free look at me, thus no more action.  Some towns change and some stay the same.  It's nice though when you have a steer man who has you playing the weakest to the best in the proper order.  One such time was in Seattle.  The guy I beat in Spokane (1974 during the Word's Fair), steered me to Vince Frane.  Vince and I made a lot of money together before I retired from the pool hustling profession.  My stories are like our dreams in that when you wake up, rather than jumping up, sit on the bed and try to recall your dream; write it down.  Pretty soon, you will remember another dream.  Write that one down also.  I tried that technique once and recalled three different dreams I had that night.

Knocked out my last man when I was 60:  When I retired from the government, I remodeled my home and then tried to get back in stroke playing pool.  Before doing so, 3-4 road players came through and between them and the "rail," I lost some serious money.  A local adversary (BD) got up enough nerve to play me so we played some cheap 8-ball for $100.  He brought in a couple of strangers and they sat down beside him.  This was a private club and they were not supposed to be there without being signed in by a member.  They were not.  The reason I make mention of this fact is because no one said a word when BD beat me the first 4 games but when my turn came, his sidekicks were talking very loud while I was shooting.  I politely reminded them that I never said word when BD was shooting so asked them to hold down the noise when I'm shooting.  They were obnoxious and both of them threatened my life.  I said no more and continued to win the game then went back to my barstool and sat down.  One of them snuck up behind me, grabbed me around my neck with his arm and whispered threats in my ear.  I immediately dropped to the floor and  released his grip then came up with a left jab and hit him square in the mouth such that his front teeth cut my middle left knuckle and he fell to the floor under another pool table.  I looked around for his partner but he ran out the back door.  After I rinsed the blood off my middle finger of my bridge hand, I continued to play BD.  I won the next 2 games and was almost even when during an easy shot on the 8, the blood dripped on my cue stick and caused my stroke to shorten up, thus failing to get the 8-ball to the hole.  I believe we played one more game after that but when the cops arrived, BD left the building.  I felt bad for having to hurt someone and I suspect BD put them up to their misbehavior just to rattle me (similar to that of Ronnie Allen).  I have not won any money playing pool since 1997 but when I got the bet up to $1000 per game, I won every game (the last 16 games in a row) playing two champion road players (Mark Haddad (staked by BD) and Oklahoma James (staked by Cole Dixon who was loaned the money by another local)).  That comeback fact was some consolation and makes this old man feel good.

Hi Rod,  You might not remember me but I traveled with Richard Austin for a couple years and after that I was on the road with Robert for a while from valentine’s day of 1970 until we split in August of 1970.  It was during that time I met you at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas.  I was there when you held Vernon until he got over his mad.  I also remember George McGann telling me how much nerve you had when he was about to shoot you.  We also ran into you in Abilene TX at some after hours place.  It was during this time Robert and I met Mike Morrison in Houston TX and we traveled with him until we parted ways in August.  I stayed with Mike and worked off and on with him until November 1982 at which time I got off the road.  To update you about him, he was from Gadsden Alabama, his wife’s name is Bobbie and his oldest son Mike died of cancer about 3 years ago.  His two daughters are doing fine and by the way, Mike is not dead.  He went through some tough times when he got hooked on cocaine and it cost him everything.  He went flat broke, Bobbie divorced him, his kids didn’t speak to him for years, he went to prison for a short time and today he lives in a 5^th wheel on Lake Martin in Alabama and draws disability from the government.  Sad story but he was always one of those guys that was all in when he did something, never on a small scale.  I am still in the process of reading Roberts book and enjoying the stories.  Good to hear about where people are today from those “Golden Years” of being on the road.  Thanks, Dick Clark

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