matcase said:
beenie was pure class on johnny carson.
I grew up in the metropolitan D.C. area, which includes the States of Virginia and Maryland. Most people, at least in my neck of the woods, still tell stories about Weenie Beanie. He not only owned a slew of hot dog stands throughout Northern Virginia, but he also kept Jack and Jill's pool room alive and well with action. In these times, when action was plentiful, every player who enjoyed games of stake would come to Seven Corners in Virginia and hope to get a game at Jack and Jill's. There was ALWAYS something going on.
I was a young girl when Jack and Jill's was in full swing, but I do remember a friend of mine decided we wanted to check it out one day. Inside, it was dark, and the room itself was not that big. This was during the days when women weren't welcome in pool rooms. In the '80s, I can remember being on the road, going South, and right off the main interstate was a pool room in Petersburg, Virginia. Out front in full view, the sign read "Women Not Allowed." If only I had a camera at that time!
Years went by and I found myself enjoying pool more and more as a young adult. I developed my game and eventually played on a Busch League rated as a 6. I played pool every single day for about 10 years, but couldn't get past that 6 ranking.
One day, the pool grapevine news spread to us all that the one and only Weenie Beanie was going to play against another Virginian, Freddie Boggs, at Champions (a different Champions than today) on Glebe Road. We couldn't wait to get over there to sweat the action, and when we arrived, it was standing room only. Those were the days when Seattle Sam was working the joint. Weenie Beanie and Freddie Boggs played for a nickel a game, one-pocket, but soon Weenie Beanie grew tired of the amount of time that it was taking Freddie to make each and every shot, stating he was going to quit if Freddie kept taking that long to shoot. Freddie was dragging his feet, and soon, much to the disappointment of us all, Weenie Beanie pulled up, one game stuck. The party was over.
Fast forward to the year 2003, I think it was. I attended the prestigious U.S. Open, and there in the stands was none other than Weenie Beanie himself. He was a pool phenom to me, having heard so many great stories. I sat down next to him and introduced myself, telling him that I remembered those delicious hot dogs in Virginia as a young girl. He got a kick out of that. We chatted for a long time, and I felt honored that he gave me a little bit of his time that day in the Chesapeake Conference Center.
Interestingly, I asked him how much was the MOST money he ever won gambling, and he said it was 30,000. Believe me, during Weenie Beanie's era, 30,000 clams was a whole lot of dough. He really was a very gracious man, humble, kind of soft spoken, dressed nicely, and had an air of elegance in his demeanor. He also allowed me to snap his picture with my counterpart, as I used to do at every pool event I attended.
I just bought a new computer, so I don't have my old .jpeg files on it yet, but if you snap this link, there is the picture I took that day at the U.S. Open of the Honorable Weenie Beanie, about halfway down on the right. To the left of Weenie Beanie is Strawberry, probably the most famous player from Washington, D.C., a one-pocket legend who has not yet, sadly, been inducted into the One Pocket Hall of Fame. Right beneath Weenie Beanie's picture is a snapshot of another great pool icon, the colorful Cornbread Red.
http://hometown.aol.com/khmccready/myhomepage/photo.html
JAM
