Are Air Barrels ever justified?
- Thread starter corvette1340
- Start date
I almost hesitate to post this, but it's a true story about an air barrel, my first experience with a player by the name of Keith McCready. It all happened in Maryland at the Capital City Classic tournament.
I had been away from pool for at least 15 years or more. I ran into an old pool friend at Montgomery Mall who invited me to this pool tournament in Maryland. I really didn't want to go, truth be told, but he was insisting I should come and see the old gang. So I agreed to meet him there at a designated time.
As my luck would have it, I arrived at the parking lot of the hotel and received a phone call from him on my cell, stating he had to work late and couldn't make it. I almost didn't go in, but I was there, and so I figured I'd at least check it out.
I was kind of nervous, figuring I wouldn't know anybody, but much to my surprise, as soon as I walked in, I recognized the tournament director, Dennis Wilson, who warmly greeted me with a hug. When I walked into the ballroom, I saw Fat Wayne from Baltimore, Timmy Crown, Tom-Tom, Drug Fair, Parks. Soon I was feeling comfy sitting on the rail, sweating the matches with my pool buddies. :kiss:
I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and out walks a player I recognized but had never met. It was Keith McCready. I initiated the conversation as we were puffing our smokes. He and I had a good friend in common which was Geese. Up walks this short man, and Keith introduced me to him as his road partner. I said, "I'm glad to meet you, Jose. Do you play pool too?" He chuckled, looked at Keith, and said yes. Later that week, Jose Parica won the tournament, BTW.
Keith and I went inside together. He had a friend with him named Larry Lisciotti who kept me in stitches laughing all night long. Larry, Keith, and myself were a threesome, it would seem. I was actually having a good time, laughing it up at Larry and Keith. What a combo!
The three of us stepped into an elevator and in walks this cocky blond-haired kid named Pistol Pete. He looked right at Keith and said, "You want to play some 9-ball?" Keith looks at him and says, "Well, sure. How do you want to play?" thinking he'd want a spot. The kid says, "I know exactly who you are, and I'll play your ass even for 100 bucks a game."
Well, Keith was, shall I say, on the shortskies for funds. Larry and I had some dough, and so we backed Keith 50/50. Keith wins the first game, and the kid immediately racks them. Larry says to me, "Did he get paid?" I said, "I don't know. I didn't see any money change hands." The second game, Keith wins it easy. The kid wastes no time and racks them again. This time, I said to Larry, "I don't see Keith getting paid." Larry walks over to Keith and asks him where's the cheese. Keith said the kid was going to pay him as soon as he got change. I'm thinking WTF. Change? It's $100 a game. Larry then instructed Keith to demand to be paid after the next game.
Keith again wins, and it was the third game. Pistol Pete walks over to his case on the rail, packs it up, and scurries out of the ballroom like a snake making a quick get-away. Well, Larry and me jump up and run after him, with Keith in the rears. :angry:
Outside in the lobby, a heated colloquy ensued. Pistol Pete says he ain't got no money and there ain't nothing any of us can do about it. I thought Larry was going to kill him. I was giving him a verbal lashing. However, Keith was calm as a cucumber. He listened to Pistol Pete intently, while me and Larry were hammering away at him with our anger. Keith then said to him, "Look, Kid, you shouldn't do that to people. It's okay. You can leave, but don't ever do that again to anybody, you hear?"
I was in disbelief, as was Larry. I didn't understand Keith's reaction then, but I do today. It is Keith's interpretation of that kid's air barrel that is the real meat of this story. Anybody else would have tarred and feathered the kid, but Keith only saw a young'n who wanted to play a good player for the thrill of it at all costs, even if it meant an air barrel.
Oh, BTW, we did run into Pistol Pete several months later in Baltimore. We walked into Bill and Billie's, and he was gambling with Danny Green, a local pool great, on the front table. You should have seen his eyes when he saw me and Keith walk in! What happened then, though, is a story for another thread! :thumbup:
JAM
I had been away from pool for at least 15 years or more. I ran into an old pool friend at Montgomery Mall who invited me to this pool tournament in Maryland. I really didn't want to go, truth be told, but he was insisting I should come and see the old gang. So I agreed to meet him there at a designated time.
As my luck would have it, I arrived at the parking lot of the hotel and received a phone call from him on my cell, stating he had to work late and couldn't make it. I almost didn't go in, but I was there, and so I figured I'd at least check it out.
I was kind of nervous, figuring I wouldn't know anybody, but much to my surprise, as soon as I walked in, I recognized the tournament director, Dennis Wilson, who warmly greeted me with a hug. When I walked into the ballroom, I saw Fat Wayne from Baltimore, Timmy Crown, Tom-Tom, Drug Fair, Parks. Soon I was feeling comfy sitting on the rail, sweating the matches with my pool buddies. :kiss:
I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and out walks a player I recognized but had never met. It was Keith McCready. I initiated the conversation as we were puffing our smokes. He and I had a good friend in common which was Geese. Up walks this short man, and Keith introduced me to him as his road partner. I said, "I'm glad to meet you, Jose. Do you play pool too?" He chuckled, looked at Keith, and said yes. Later that week, Jose Parica won the tournament, BTW.
Keith and I went inside together. He had a friend with him named Larry Lisciotti who kept me in stitches laughing all night long. Larry, Keith, and myself were a threesome, it would seem. I was actually having a good time, laughing it up at Larry and Keith. What a combo!
The three of us stepped into an elevator and in walks this cocky blond-haired kid named Pistol Pete. He looked right at Keith and said, "You want to play some 9-ball?" Keith looks at him and says, "Well, sure. How do you want to play?" thinking he'd want a spot. The kid says, "I know exactly who you are, and I'll play your ass even for 100 bucks a game."
Well, Keith was, shall I say, on the shortskies for funds. Larry and I had some dough, and so we backed Keith 50/50. Keith wins the first game, and the kid immediately racks them. Larry says to me, "Did he get paid?" I said, "I don't know. I didn't see any money change hands." The second game, Keith wins it easy. The kid wastes no time and racks them again. This time, I said to Larry, "I don't see Keith getting paid." Larry walks over to Keith and asks him where's the cheese. Keith said the kid was going to pay him as soon as he got change. I'm thinking WTF. Change? It's $100 a game. Larry then instructed Keith to demand to be paid after the next game.
Keith again wins, and it was the third game. Pistol Pete walks over to his case on the rail, packs it up, and scurries out of the ballroom like a snake making a quick get-away. Well, Larry and me jump up and run after him, with Keith in the rears. :angry:
Outside in the lobby, a heated colloquy ensued. Pistol Pete says he ain't got no money and there ain't nothing any of us can do about it. I thought Larry was going to kill him. I was giving him a verbal lashing. However, Keith was calm as a cucumber. He listened to Pistol Pete intently, while me and Larry were hammering away at him with our anger. Keith then said to him, "Look, Kid, you shouldn't do that to people. It's okay. You can leave, but don't ever do that again to anybody, you hear?"
I was in disbelief, as was Larry. I didn't understand Keith's reaction then, but I do today. It is Keith's interpretation of that kid's air barrel that is the real meat of this story. Anybody else would have tarred and feathered the kid, but Keith only saw a young'n who wanted to play a good player for the thrill of it at all costs, even if it meant an air barrel.
Oh, BTW, we did run into Pistol Pete several months later in Baltimore. We walked into Bill and Billie's, and he was gambling with Danny Green, a local pool great, on the front table. You should have seen his eyes when he saw me and Keith walk in! What happened then, though, is a story for another thread! :thumbup:
JAM
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Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!JAM said:
JAM said:I almost hesitate to post this, but it's a true story about an air barrel, my first experience with a player by the name of Keith McCready. It all happened in Maryland at the Capital City Classic tournament.
I had been away from pool for at least 15 years or more. I ran into an old pool friend at Montgomery Mall who invited me to this pool tournament in Maryland. I really didn't want to go, truth be told, but he was insisting I should come and see the old gang. So I agreed to meet him there at a designated time.
As my luck would have it, I arrived at the parking lot of the hotel and received a phone call from him on my cell, stating he had to work late and couldn't make it. I almost didn't go in, but I was there, and so I figured I'd at least check it out.
I was kind of nervous, figuring I wouldn't know anybody, but much to my surprise, as soon as I walked in, I recognized the tournament director, Dennis Wilson, who warmly greeted me with a hug. When I walked into the ballroom, I saw Fat Wayne from Baltimore, Timmy Crown, Tom-Tom, Drug Fair, Parks. Soon I was feeling comfy sitting on the rail, sweating the matches with my pool buddies. :kiss:
I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and out walks a player I recognized but had never met. It was Keith McCready. I initiated the conversation as we were puffing our smokes. He and I had a good friend in common which was Geese. Up walks this short man, and Keith introduced me to him as his road partner. I said, "I'm glad to meet you, Jose. Do you play pool too?" He chuckled, looked at Keith, and said yes. Later that week, Jose Parica won the tournament, BTW.
Keith and I went inside together. He had a friend with him named Larry Lisciotti who kept me in stitches laughing all night long. Larry, Keith, and myself were a threesome, it would seem. I was actually having a good time, laughing it up at Larry and Keith. What a combo!
The three of us stepped into an elevator and in walks this cocky blond-haired kid named Pistol Pete. He looked right at Keith and said, "You want to play some 9-ball?" Keith looks at him and says, "Well, sure. How do you want to play?" thinking he'd want a spot. The kid says, "I know exactly who you are, and I'll play your ass even for 100 bucks a game."
Well, Keith was, shall I say, on the shortskies for funds. Larry and I had some dough, and so we backed Keith 50/50. Keith wins the first game, and the kid immediately racks them. Larry says to me, "Did he get paid?" I said, "I don't know. I didn't see any money change hands." The second game, Keith wins it easy. The kid wastes no time and racks them again. This time, I said to Larry, "I don't see Keith getting paid." Larry walks over to Keith and asks him where's the cheese. Keith said the kid was going to pay him as soon as he got change. I'm thinking WTF. Change? It's $100 a game. Larry then instructed Keith to demand to be paid after the next game.
Keith again wins, and it was the third game. Pistol Pete walks over to his case on the rail, packs it up, and scurries out of the ballroom like a snake making a quick get-away. Well, Larry and me jump up and run after him, with Keith in the rears. :angry:
Outside in the lobby, a heated colloquy ensued. Pistol Pete says he ain't got no money and there ain't nothing any of us can do about it. I thought Larry was going to kill him. I was giving him a verbal lashing. However, Keith was calm as a cucumber. He listened to Pistol Pete intently, while me and Larry were hammering away at him with our anger. Keith then said to him, "Look, Kid, you shouldn't do that to people. It's okay. You can leave, but don't ever do that again to anybody, you hear?"
I was in disbelief, as was Larry. I didn't understand Keith's reaction then, but I do today. It is Keith's interpretation of that kid's air barrel that is the real meat of this story. Anybody else would have tarred and feathered the kid, but Keith only saw a young'n who wanted to play a good player for the thrill of it at all costs, even if it meant an air barrel.
Oh, BTW, we did run into Pistol Pete several months later in Baltimore. We walked into Bill and Billie's, and he was gambling with Danny Green, a local pool great, on the front table. You should have seen his eyes when he saw me and Keith walk in! What happened then, though, is a story for another thread! :thumbup:
JAM
nice read Jam. I see the point that Keith makes with the kid and I'm sure he's been aired hundreds of times. I guess its more of an unwritten code among seasoned pool gamblers with the air barrels, but I still hold to my opinion that it is always wrong. From my vantage point, the person shooting the air barrel is basically stealing in a sense that they could win a lot of money from the person who actually has the cheese and they are risking nothing.
What if the kid had lucked a few nine balls in and then quit?
Hope you are having a good day. It is miserably rainy here.
great story!
A great story Jam. I suspect Keith saw a bit of himself a long time ago in the kid although I am not suggesting that Keith ever did the same thing.
Sometimes I stop in a place to practice a little or just check out a new room.
I tote a large leather case just so I always have room for other people's shafts or cues that need work. In some of these places this instantly marks me as tough action. When a kid comes up wanting to play I know it is because they have heart. While I will beat them if I can, I don't crush them even if I am able to. Right or wrong I made that decision long ago and I am comfortable with it.
Hu
A great story Jam. I suspect Keith saw a bit of himself a long time ago in the kid although I am not suggesting that Keith ever did the same thing.
Sometimes I stop in a place to practice a little or just check out a new room.
I tote a large leather case just so I always have room for other people's shafts or cues that need work. In some of these places this instantly marks me as tough action. When a kid comes up wanting to play I know it is because they have heart. While I will beat them if I can, I don't crush them even if I am able to. Right or wrong I made that decision long ago and I am comfortable with it.
Hu
JAM said:I almost hesitate to post this, but it's a true story about an air barrel, my first experience with a player by the name of Keith McCready. It all happened in Maryland at the Capital City Classic tournament.
I had been away from pool for at least 15 years or more. I ran into an old pool friend at Montgomery Mall who invited me to this pool tournament in Maryland. I really didn't want to go, truth be told, but he was insisting I should come and see the old gang. So I agreed to meet him there at a designated time.
As my luck would have it, I arrived at the parking lot of the hotel and received a phone call from him on my cell, stating he had to work late and couldn't make it. I almost didn't go in, but I was there, and so I figured I'd at least check it out.
I was kind of nervous, figuring I wouldn't know anybody, but much to my surprise, as soon as I walked in, I recognized the tournament director, Dennis Wilson, who warmly greeted me with a hug. When I walked into the ballroom, I saw Fat Wayne from Baltimore, Timmy Crown, Tom-Tom, Drug Fair, Parks. Soon I was feeling comfy sitting on the rail, sweating the matches with my pool buddies. :kiss:
I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and out walks a player I recognized but had never met. It was Keith McCready. I initiated the conversation as we were puffing our smokes. He and I had a good friend in common which was Geese. Up walks this short man, and Keith introduced me to him as his road partner. I said, "I'm glad to meet you, Jose. Do you play pool too?" He chuckled, looked at Keith, and said yes. Later that week, Jose Parica won the tournament, BTW.
Keith and I went inside together. He had a friend with him named Larry Lisciotti who kept me in stitches laughing all night long. Larry, Keith, and myself were a threesome, it would seem. I was actually having a good time, laughing it up at Larry and Keith. What a combo!
The three of us stepped into an elevator and in walks this cocky blond-haired kid named Pistol Pete. He looked right at Keith and said, "You want to play some 9-ball?" Keith looks at him and says, "Well, sure. How do you want to play?" thinking he'd want a spot. The kid says, "I know exactly who you are, and I'll play your ass even for 100 bucks a game."
Well, Keith was, shall I say, on the shortskies for funds. Larry and I had some dough, and so we backed Keith 50/50. Keith wins the first game, and the kid immediately racks them. Larry says to me, "Did he get paid?" I said, "I don't know. I didn't see any money change hands." The second game, Keith wins it easy. The kid wastes no time and racks them again. This time, I said to Larry, "I don't see Keith getting paid." Larry walks over to Keith and asks him where's the cheese. Keith said the kid was going to pay him as soon as he got change. I'm thinking WTF. Change? It's $100 a game. Larry then instructed Keith to demand to be paid after the next game.
Keith again wins, and it was the third game. Pistol Pete walks over to his case on the rail, packs it up, and scurries out of the ballroom like a snake making a quick get-away. Well, Larry and me jump up and run after him, with Keith in the rears. :angry:
Outside in the lobby, a heated colloquy ensued. Pistol Pete says he ain't got no money and there ain't nothing any of us can do about it. I thought Larry was going to kill him. I was giving him a verbal lashing. However, Keith was calm as a cucumber. He listened to Pistol Pete intently, while me and Larry were hammering away at him with our anger. Keith then said to him, "Look, Kid, you shouldn't do that to people. It's okay. You can leave, but don't ever do that again to anybody, you hear?"
I was in disbelief, as was Larry. I didn't understand Keith's reaction then, but I do today. It is Keith's interpretation of that kid's air barrel that is the real meat of this story. Anybody else would have tarred and feathered the kid, but Keith only saw a young'n who wanted to play a good player for the thrill of it at all costs, even if it meant an air barrel.
Oh, BTW, we did run into Pistol Pete several months later in Baltimore. We walked into Bill and Billie's, and he was gambling with Danny Green, a local pool great, on the front table. You should have seen his eyes when he saw me and Keith walk in! What happened then, though, is a story for another thread! :thumbup:
JAM
corvette1340 said:nice read Jam. I see the point that Keith makes with the kid and I'm sure he's been aired hundreds of times. I guess its more of an unwritten code among seasoned pool gamblers with the air barrels, but I still hold to my opinion that it is always wrong. From my vantage point, the person shooting the air barrel is basically stealing in a sense that they could win a lot of money from the person who actually has the cheese and they are risking nothing.
What if the kid had lucked a few nine balls in and then quit?
Hope you are having a good day. It is miserably rainy here.
Am I in the right forum? Is this the Twilight Zone of AzBilliards? :shocked2:
The kid had no chance to beat Keith. It was obvious after the first game. Me and Larry Lisciotti were licking our chops, with dollar signs in our eyes. It goes to show you that when it comes to gambling, there are always circumstances which can and will dictate the end result. Nothing is absolute.
Keith is a very, very, very nice person and may be one of the most emotionally mature men I have ever had the privilege to know. I love him because of it. Some folks may never know the real Keith McCready, and that is their loss, believe me, if they love pool.
Um, I am supposed to be working today, but am procrastinating a huge job by hanging out here on the forum. The job is all about the history of a local country club, one which I used to go to when I was a child with my parents. The weather here is beautiful, very unlike August. There's a cool breeze and the sun's a shining!
JAM <----[Must be a blue moon coming tonight!] :shocked:
ShootingArts said:
Hu, I know you understand the culture of gambling in pool. Sometimes things don't always happen the way we think they will.
I remember winning 18 dimes in upstate New York and came within minutes of getting robbed for it all -- by a pool "friend."
Firing an Air barrel is wrong, but in gambling circles, especially seasoned veterans of pool, it's a little different. I'm still not saying it's right. I'm just saying it is not the sin that some think it is. That's all! :smile:
JAM
JAM said:I almost hesitate to post this, but it's a true story about an air barrel, my first experience with a player by the name of Keith McCready. It all happened in Maryland at the Capital City Classic tournament.
I had been away from pool for at least 15 years or more. I ran into an old pool friend at Montgomery Mall who invited me to this pool tournament in Maryland. I really didn't want to go, truth be told, but he was insisting I should come and see the old gang. So I agreed to meet him there at a designated time.
As my luck would have it, I arrived at the parking lot of the hotel and received a phone call from him on my cell, stating he had to work late and couldn't make it. I almost didn't go in, but I was there, and so I figured I'd at least check it out.
I was kind of nervous, figuring I wouldn't know anybody, but much to my surprise, as soon as I walked in, I recognized the tournament director, Dennis Wilson, who warmly greeted me with a hug. When I walked into the ballroom, I saw Fat Wayne from Baltimore, Timmy Crown, Tom-Tom, Drug Fair, Parks. Soon I was feeling comfy sitting on the rail, sweating the matches with my pool buddies. :kiss:
I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and out walks a player I recognized but had never met. It was Keith McCready. I initiated the conversation as we were puffing our smokes. He and I had a good friend in common which was Geese. Up walks this short man, and Keith introduced me to him as his road partner. I said, "I'm glad to meet you, Jose. Do you play pool too?" He chuckled, looked at Keith, and said yes. Later that week, Jose Parica won the tournament, BTW.
Keith and I went inside together. He had a friend with him named Larry Lisciotti who kept me in stitches laughing all night long. Larry, Keith, and myself were a threesome, it would seem. I was actually having a good time, laughing it up at Larry and Keith. What a combo!
The three of us stepped into an elevator and in walks this cocky blond-haired kid named Pistol Pete. He looked right at Keith and said, "You want to play some 9-ball?" Keith looks at him and says, "Well, sure. How do you want to play?" thinking he'd want a spot. The kid says, "I know exactly who you are, and I'll play your ass even for 100 bucks a game."
Well, Keith was, shall I say, on the shortskies for funds. Larry and I had some dough, and so we backed Keith 50/50. Keith wins the first game, and the kid immediately racks them. Larry says to me, "Did he get paid?" I said, "I don't know. I didn't see any money change hands." The second game, Keith wins it easy. The kid wastes no time and racks them again. This time, I said to Larry, "I don't see Keith getting paid." Larry walks over to Keith and asks him where's the cheese. Keith said the kid was going to pay him as soon as he got change. I'm thinking WTF. Change? It's $100 a game. Larry then instructed Keith to demand to be paid after the next game.
Keith again wins, and it was the third game. Pistol Pete walks over to his case on the rail, packs it up, and scurries out of the ballroom like a snake making a quick get-away. Well, Larry and me jump up and run after him, with Keith in the rears. :angry:
Outside in the lobby, a heated colloquy ensued. Pistol Pete says he ain't got no money and there ain't nothing any of us can do about it. I thought Larry was going to kill him. I was giving him a verbal lashing. However, Keith was calm as a cucumber. He listened to Pistol Pete intently, while me and Larry were hammering away at him with our anger. Keith then said to him, "Look, Kid, you shouldn't do that to people. It's okay. You can leave, but don't ever do that again to anybody, you hear?"
I was in disbelief, as was Larry. I didn't understand Keith's reaction then, but I do today. It is Keith's interpretation of that kid's air barrel that is the real meat of this story. Anybody else would have tarred and feathered the kid, but Keith only saw a young'n who wanted to play a good player for the thrill of it at all costs, even if it meant an air barrel.
Oh, BTW, we did run into Pistol Pete several months later in Baltimore. We walked into Bill and Billie's, and he was gambling with Danny Green, a local pool great, on the front table. You should have seen his eyes when he saw me and Keith walk in! What happened then, though, is a story for another thread! :thumbup:
JAM
Great read Jam. .
The most recent time I was airbarrelled I was playing this local in Miami 1p at new wave billiards. We start off playing for 10 a game and then 20. I am stuck 60 and I ask him if he wants to play for 30 a game. He says ok but pay off the 60 now. So I do and we start up again. It goes back and forth for a while and then it gets raised to 40 and finally after about 5 hrs its over and I have busted him for 320. He hands me 60 and says I am broke can you pay my tab too?
I ended up getting his Espiritu cue and he paid his own tab while I got the time. The end of this story is that the next week he shot air barrels at another guy and that guy took his break cue and his last cue, a Predator. Then the guy got kicked out his girlfriend's apt and was homeless, sleeping in the electrical closet at the pool room I heard. Just last week I asked someone if they knew how to get ahold of the guy I was told to forget about collecting on the debt because the guy was now in jail on some sort of sex crime. In a way I feel bad for the guy, especially since his rapid decline seemed to have a really kicked into gear the night I beat him.
Anyone want to buy a used Espiritu?
I ended up getting his Espiritu cue and he paid his own tab while I got the time. The end of this story is that the next week he shot air barrels at another guy and that guy took his break cue and his last cue, a Predator. Then the guy got kicked out his girlfriend's apt and was homeless, sleeping in the electrical closet at the pool room I heard. Just last week I asked someone if they knew how to get ahold of the guy I was told to forget about collecting on the debt because the guy was now in jail on some sort of sex crime. In a way I feel bad for the guy, especially since his rapid decline seemed to have a really kicked into gear the night I beat him.
Anyone want to buy a used Espiritu?
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Is it a lucky cue?uwate said:...
Anyone want to buy a used Espiritu?
Black-Balled said:Is it a lucky cue?
If by "lucky" you mean "cursed" then yes, apparently.
goes without say
JAM,
You are perfectly correct of course. The circumstances around the air barrel can make it a big deal or no big deal and something almost expected.
Although always posting seems like a fine idea, I have played in many places where posting meant a trip to the gray bar hotel and the money taken. You kept the stake folded in your pocket and discreetly passed it to the winner. This was true where I started playing pool so air barrels were always possible. You said it perfectly, they aren't right, but when it is the last shot of the night and they have already paid off well it just wasn't a big deal either.
Hu
JAM,
You are perfectly correct of course. The circumstances around the air barrel can make it a big deal or no big deal and something almost expected.
Although always posting seems like a fine idea, I have played in many places where posting meant a trip to the gray bar hotel and the money taken. You kept the stake folded in your pocket and discreetly passed it to the winner. This was true where I started playing pool so air barrels were always possible. You said it perfectly, they aren't right, but when it is the last shot of the night and they have already paid off well it just wasn't a big deal either.
Hu
JAM said:
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All I got to say about Jam's story is it would not have happened if I had been there! DAMN! For a hundred a game that kid would have been posting before anyone ever hit a ball. You ask Keith Ms. Jam. He knows me very well. If I'm risking my cheese, I better see yours too.
Shame on you guys for letting that kid pull a cheap move like that. Keith might be the only guy who would forgive him. Many would have taken his cue and anything else of value he had on him. And he would have deserved it!
Shame on you guys for letting that kid pull a cheap move like that. Keith might be the only guy who would forgive him. Many would have taken his cue and anything else of value he had on him. And he would have deserved it!
jay helfert said:
Today, this would NEVER happen, but then at that time, I was kind of green, having been away from pool altogether for 15-plus years. Keith and Larry Lisciotti were both kind of shocked that the kid wanted to play Keith even, never having seen the young'n before.
Believe me, Larry was pissed off to the max. At one point, out in the lobby when I realized the kid wasn't going to pay, I screamed to Larry, "Take his cue. Take his cue," and Pistol Pete, never missing a beat, put the cue case strap across his body like a life preserver. Larry's hands were within seconds of grabbing it.
I wish you could have seen the fiasco out in the lobby. Me and Larry had steam coming out of our ears. The kid was a scared puppy with his tail between his legs, shaking like a leaf, and Keith was looking him dead in his eyes, listening to every word the kid said before he granted him forgiveness.
I can assure you today, Jay, it would never come down like that. In fact, when my money's involved, I butt right in and make sure the rules/stakes are straight and understood by each side, with or without Keith's input.
Several months later, Pistol Pete had a rude awakening when Keith and I walked in on him gambling with a local action man. He was winner on Danny Green by a couple hundred bucks. The game came to an abrupt end when the kid saw me hawking his game. He couldn't hit a ball. LOL! So he unscrewed his cue, quit winner, and paid the time, hoping to slither out of the joint with his dough. :angry:
The house man at the pool room, about 250 pounds and all muscle, pulled the kid aside when he heard about the incident with me and Keith. He told Pistol Pete that he better give Keith and me some of his winnings or else. There's more to this story which I'm saving, but we got paid what I'll term as "interest." And I'll just leave it at that!
JAM
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Air???
Maybe y'all can define this situation as to whether we were aired or...what.
In 1990 I was in Springfield, Ill. with a shortstop from Adrian, Mi. named Tim Roberts. ( He can verify this, if he's still around.) We run into Joe Nielson ( who I hear mentioned on this forum from time to time) Anyway we match up playing even, a race to nine for 300.00. As everyone on this thread seems to agree, we post the money on the light above the table. This was in a bar...not a pool room.They flip, Joe wins, and proceeds to break and run out the first game. He breaks the second rack, comes up dry, and Tim runs out that game plus two more. At that point,Neilson walks to the table, grabs the money off the light ( just his 300.00 ) and says, " I quit"
I had been in hundreds of gambling situations ( even been robbed a couple times ) but had never had this happen ( before or since ) So... there we are, the two of us, not knowing anyone in the joint, facing a group of six or seven guys ( who were in with Neilson ) I screamed and yelled, but didn't feel up to taking on a whole herd. So, we took our 300.00 and left. One guy did follow us into the parking lot and apologized for what had happened.He asked what he could do to make it right. (I said " pay us the f#####g 300.00 dollars." Of course he wasn't that anxious to "make it right"
My friend, Jeff Hicks, ( who just recently passed away ) had warned me the day before, knowing we were headed to Springfield, to be leery of Neilson. But, as you've just heard, I didn't listen.
Anyway... I guess that may be defined as a world class air barrel.
Maybe y'all can define this situation as to whether we were aired or...what.
In 1990 I was in Springfield, Ill. with a shortstop from Adrian, Mi. named Tim Roberts. ( He can verify this, if he's still around.) We run into Joe Nielson ( who I hear mentioned on this forum from time to time) Anyway we match up playing even, a race to nine for 300.00. As everyone on this thread seems to agree, we post the money on the light above the table. This was in a bar...not a pool room.They flip, Joe wins, and proceeds to break and run out the first game. He breaks the second rack, comes up dry, and Tim runs out that game plus two more. At that point,Neilson walks to the table, grabs the money off the light ( just his 300.00 ) and says, " I quit"
I had been in hundreds of gambling situations ( even been robbed a couple times ) but had never had this happen ( before or since ) So... there we are, the two of us, not knowing anyone in the joint, facing a group of six or seven guys ( who were in with Neilson ) I screamed and yelled, but didn't feel up to taking on a whole herd. So, we took our 300.00 and left. One guy did follow us into the parking lot and apologized for what had happened.He asked what he could do to make it right. (I said " pay us the f#####g 300.00 dollars." Of course he wasn't that anxious to "make it right"
My friend, Jeff Hicks, ( who just recently passed away ) had warned me the day before, knowing we were headed to Springfield, to be leery of Neilson. But, as you've just heard, I didn't listen.
Anyway... I guess that may be defined as a world class air barrel.
:grin:
streak said:
This move will work every time but once.