About a month ago I made a trip out to West Texas to a tournament and decided to hang around a while and see "what I could run into".
An old friend sent me one night over to Big Springs as there were a couple of guys who liked to play 9-ball. Not my game of preference, but what the heck.
As I drove into town, the first thing I noticed right off hiway 87 was a huge complex beautifully maintained and as I got closer realized it was the state hospital. My first thought, was, " I wonder how Bernie is"? No, just joking.
I had pretty good directions to the old downtown area and found the pool room called Pickpockets, just about 1 block from the Courthouse. I parked and entered and was a little surprised at what I saw.
It was an older building and reminded me of the old saloons seen in the old westerns, with the staircase and the rooms upstairs. The place was as clean as could be and I noticed 8 Diamond 9Ft tables with Simonis on them. They were very clean and no dust under the rails and no tracks on the cloth. It just hit me as kind of odd.
I got some balls from the houseman and and began to ask some obvious questions. I soon learned that both the fellows I was looking for had quit playing for different reasons. I continued to hit balls and quickly fell in love with the tables. They played near perfectly and I was really enjoying myself.
Finally, an older fella came over and said, "you look like a one pocket player"? I kind of laughed and said, "what does a one pocket player look like?" He returned with, "someone who don't look to comfortable hustlin 9-ball and about your age." I couldn't help but laugh, but I couldn't argue either.
We agreed to play some $30 one pocket and I quickly assesed the fella to be about 10 years my Sr. which put him about 65. He was well aware of what was happening and just wanted to play.
We played from app 9pm until closing and just had a very good time. He was clever and went for nothing he wasn't sure of. He had some nice runs, but, for the most part, the big shot and run out days were behind him. He knew it, I knew it, and he knew I knew it. We were just having some fun.
The tables played near perfectly and I was enjoying them so much, I didn't want to quit. But, closing was getting near and the houseman was preparing to close and I noticed the strangest thing.
First, the houseman took a dry rag and wiped down all the tables. He then vacumed each table and was very gentle about it. He then took a slightly damp rag to any still existing chalk marks. He then brought out a blow-dryer and dried the dampend spots at a low speed. He then covered all the tables with dust covers. I thought, "I haven't seen a place this maticulous about their table care since I was a Kid. I undrstood even better why I was having so much fun playing on these tables. I really didn't want to stop even though it was late, near 2am.
We gathered the balls and returned them to the counter as the Houseman was clocking us off. The older fella reached for his wallet and handed me 3 $50 bills and thanked me for the game. I felt a bit guilty recieving them, but, did not want to insult him either. The time came to about $ 60, which I was glad to pay. The houseman looked me in the eye as I asked hime if he cleaned his tables every night like he had done. He replied with a yes and said he had been taught to do so by the fella I had just played. He then said, Nobody on earth loves this game as much as the old Fella. I then said, that I didn't want his money and the houseman said, " don't worry, he didn't get hurt at all". I thought, "Good".
We bid our good byes and I vowed to be back and to stop in a say hello. I shook hands with the fella and told him I had fun. He returned the hand shake and said, "the pleasure was mine", and walked out the door.
I picked up my case and handed the houseman a $50 bill and said, " you know, I have played all over this big country and these are the nicest tables I've ever played on. You do great work."
He replied with, "thank you sir, his name is Sam."
As I drove out of town, I felt totally relaxed for the first time in ages and very humbled by the simple, but, very enjoyable evening. Life is so fast today and so full of negativity as I have become so results oriented that I had forgotten that results are not nearly as important as the activities at hand. It all just takes a little extra care and time. My Grandfather had taught me these things at a very early age growing up in small town about the size of Big Springs. I had lost sight of that.
If ever you are traveling accross Texas watch out for the intersection of Hiway 87 and Interstate 10. Pickpockets is right downtown. Please, take your time and enjoy the equipment. It is special. Don't rush.
Tell Sam I said, "Hello".
An old friend sent me one night over to Big Springs as there were a couple of guys who liked to play 9-ball. Not my game of preference, but what the heck.
As I drove into town, the first thing I noticed right off hiway 87 was a huge complex beautifully maintained and as I got closer realized it was the state hospital. My first thought, was, " I wonder how Bernie is"? No, just joking.
I had pretty good directions to the old downtown area and found the pool room called Pickpockets, just about 1 block from the Courthouse. I parked and entered and was a little surprised at what I saw.
It was an older building and reminded me of the old saloons seen in the old westerns, with the staircase and the rooms upstairs. The place was as clean as could be and I noticed 8 Diamond 9Ft tables with Simonis on them. They were very clean and no dust under the rails and no tracks on the cloth. It just hit me as kind of odd.
I got some balls from the houseman and and began to ask some obvious questions. I soon learned that both the fellows I was looking for had quit playing for different reasons. I continued to hit balls and quickly fell in love with the tables. They played near perfectly and I was really enjoying myself.
Finally, an older fella came over and said, "you look like a one pocket player"? I kind of laughed and said, "what does a one pocket player look like?" He returned with, "someone who don't look to comfortable hustlin 9-ball and about your age." I couldn't help but laugh, but I couldn't argue either.
We agreed to play some $30 one pocket and I quickly assesed the fella to be about 10 years my Sr. which put him about 65. He was well aware of what was happening and just wanted to play.
We played from app 9pm until closing and just had a very good time. He was clever and went for nothing he wasn't sure of. He had some nice runs, but, for the most part, the big shot and run out days were behind him. He knew it, I knew it, and he knew I knew it. We were just having some fun.
The tables played near perfectly and I was enjoying them so much, I didn't want to quit. But, closing was getting near and the houseman was preparing to close and I noticed the strangest thing.
First, the houseman took a dry rag and wiped down all the tables. He then vacumed each table and was very gentle about it. He then took a slightly damp rag to any still existing chalk marks. He then brought out a blow-dryer and dried the dampend spots at a low speed. He then covered all the tables with dust covers. I thought, "I haven't seen a place this maticulous about their table care since I was a Kid. I undrstood even better why I was having so much fun playing on these tables. I really didn't want to stop even though it was late, near 2am.
We gathered the balls and returned them to the counter as the Houseman was clocking us off. The older fella reached for his wallet and handed me 3 $50 bills and thanked me for the game. I felt a bit guilty recieving them, but, did not want to insult him either. The time came to about $ 60, which I was glad to pay. The houseman looked me in the eye as I asked hime if he cleaned his tables every night like he had done. He replied with a yes and said he had been taught to do so by the fella I had just played. He then said, Nobody on earth loves this game as much as the old Fella. I then said, that I didn't want his money and the houseman said, " don't worry, he didn't get hurt at all". I thought, "Good".
We bid our good byes and I vowed to be back and to stop in a say hello. I shook hands with the fella and told him I had fun. He returned the hand shake and said, "the pleasure was mine", and walked out the door.
I picked up my case and handed the houseman a $50 bill and said, " you know, I have played all over this big country and these are the nicest tables I've ever played on. You do great work."
He replied with, "thank you sir, his name is Sam."
As I drove out of town, I felt totally relaxed for the first time in ages and very humbled by the simple, but, very enjoyable evening. Life is so fast today and so full of negativity as I have become so results oriented that I had forgotten that results are not nearly as important as the activities at hand. It all just takes a little extra care and time. My Grandfather had taught me these things at a very early age growing up in small town about the size of Big Springs. I had lost sight of that.
If ever you are traveling accross Texas watch out for the intersection of Hiway 87 and Interstate 10. Pickpockets is right downtown. Please, take your time and enjoy the equipment. It is special. Don't rush.
Tell Sam I said, "Hello".
