Now I know what kind of places you like to hang out in! That is OK, though! Hang in there...
Many Regards,
Lock N Load.
What is the best pool hall you ever played in? And where is it?
- Thread starter Lock N Load
- Start date
Now I know what kind of places you like to hang out in! That is OK, though! Hang in there...
Many Regards,
Lock N Load.
First State Billiards
Dover, Delaware.. This place is awesome.
Dover, Delaware.. This place is awesome.
Champion Billiards at Laurel
In 1994, I worked for a year as house pro and BCA league and tournament director at the new Champion Billiards in Laurel, MD. It was so nice...28 Gold Crown 9-footers, four 8-footers and four bar boxes. Open twenty-four hours a day, full restaurant, bar and game room.
Sadly for me and the clientele, I was replaced by a man who worked for free to pay off a debt to the owner. Champion at Laurel closed down not long after...
Donny L
BPIA/ACS Instructor
In 1994, I worked for a year as house pro and BCA league and tournament director at the new Champion Billiards in Laurel, MD. It was so nice...28 Gold Crown 9-footers, four 8-footers and four bar boxes. Open twenty-four hours a day, full restaurant, bar and game room.
Sadly for me and the clientele, I was replaced by a man who worked for free to pay off a debt to the owner. Champion at Laurel closed down not long after...
Donny L
BPIA/ACS Instructor
Bill and Billie's
Yes, played there once around '93 and picked up a nice $400 in less than an hour.
Donny L
BPIA/ACS Instructor
Yes, played there once around '93 and picked up a nice $400 in less than an hour.
Donny L
BPIA/ACS Instructor
This might get a little long winded, but this was a question I needed to answer, and to honor a long lost friend. Rest in peace, and God bless you Peckerhead.
I am the son of a physician, so while I was growing up we moved just about every two years. I grew up primarily in Erie and Pittsburgh, but I also lived in Philly for a while. Shortly after my 12th birthday, we moved to the tiny little town I still reside in. The population is about 4500 people.
That first year I had a ton of trouble since I was, yet again, the new kid. It was summer when we made the move, and I really had no way to occupy my time. One day I was walking down Main street, and a kid I recognized came bursting through an unmarked door, onto the sidewalk. Well, I saw through the open door that there were a bunch of people inside playing pool. I did not know how to play, but there were some video games inside, so I thought I would check it out.
There were at least twenty five people playing pool or video games, or just sitting at the bar talking. The age range was approximately 12 to 30, and there were no females at all. I found out later, that was the rule. There was an older man behind the bar(which served no alcohol), and it appeared he was running the place. I could tell that the crowd in there was on the rowdy side. I thought to myself, "They must really take advantage of this guy!" Within minutes, I heard the "smack" of a break shot. Then, I heard the old man bellow "Who owes for the break?" Immediately, the kid that broke went to the bar and paid the old man a quarter. That was the cost of a game, and the breaker always paid.
The pool hall had three immaculate Gold Crown III's, and the old man kept them perfect. His name was Don Davido, but everyone called him peckerhead. He was in his late sixties at the time, but he spent at least 60 hrs. a week at his pool hall. You could get a toasted 6 inch hoagie for 60 cents. You could get a toasted cheese sandwich for 25 cents. And a can of soda was 25 cents. This was in 87', so those prices were still cheap for the times. Don wasn't making much money, but he loved the customers, especially the kids. And they loved him, fiercely. None so more than me.
Don knew most of my family, and used to roadtrip with my uncle. He took a shine to me immediately, and started teaching me what he knew. He would open up early and close late to allow me to practice. For almost two years, I probably averaged 60 hours a week in that pool hall. I would gamble a lot. In the beginning, I lost a lot. Countless times Don would hand me a ten or twenty and say, "get back in that game, and win your money back." Even if I did, he would not let me pay him back. In short order, this man, who was older than my grandfather, became my best friend. I also became a deadly shot, at least for our small area.
When I was fourteen, Don finally sold the hall. A bunch of us pool hall rats all chipped in and bought him a gold watch, and they all let me compose the inscription. When we presented it to him, he cried, and hugged everyone of us.
Two years later, Don passed away with cancer. I skipped out on the wake, because I could not bear the thought of seeing him in a casket. I went to the funeral, and at the reception after it was completed, I went to his widow to offer my condolences. She saw me coming, and started to tear up. I had not shed a tear to this point, since hearing of his death. When I leaned down to her, she grabbed me in a tight hug, and whispered "You were his favorite. He loved you so much!" And that statement finally broke the damn. The tears came hot and fast then, and I literally cried for hours. It has been 21 years since he died, and as I write this, I am still shedding tears. Since then, pool has always been with me. I have met so many wonderful people, played in so many different places, and have had countless amazing experiences. All because of that old man. I owe him so much.
To this day, if someone were to say an ill word about Don in the vicinity of one of the old rats, there would be blood shed. I honestly have never met another human being who was so universally loved, at least by the people who were important. Rest in peace, Peckerhead. I hope you are running racks and listening to the Steeler's fight song up there!
And that is my story for the greatest pool hall I have ever been in. It closed up one year after Don sold it, so it only exists in my heart now.
Braden
I am the son of a physician, so while I was growing up we moved just about every two years. I grew up primarily in Erie and Pittsburgh, but I also lived in Philly for a while. Shortly after my 12th birthday, we moved to the tiny little town I still reside in. The population is about 4500 people.
That first year I had a ton of trouble since I was, yet again, the new kid. It was summer when we made the move, and I really had no way to occupy my time. One day I was walking down Main street, and a kid I recognized came bursting through an unmarked door, onto the sidewalk. Well, I saw through the open door that there were a bunch of people inside playing pool. I did not know how to play, but there were some video games inside, so I thought I would check it out.
There were at least twenty five people playing pool or video games, or just sitting at the bar talking. The age range was approximately 12 to 30, and there were no females at all. I found out later, that was the rule. There was an older man behind the bar(which served no alcohol), and it appeared he was running the place. I could tell that the crowd in there was on the rowdy side. I thought to myself, "They must really take advantage of this guy!" Within minutes, I heard the "smack" of a break shot. Then, I heard the old man bellow "Who owes for the break?" Immediately, the kid that broke went to the bar and paid the old man a quarter. That was the cost of a game, and the breaker always paid.
The pool hall had three immaculate Gold Crown III's, and the old man kept them perfect. His name was Don Davido, but everyone called him peckerhead. He was in his late sixties at the time, but he spent at least 60 hrs. a week at his pool hall. You could get a toasted 6 inch hoagie for 60 cents. You could get a toasted cheese sandwich for 25 cents. And a can of soda was 25 cents. This was in 87', so those prices were still cheap for the times. Don wasn't making much money, but he loved the customers, especially the kids. And they loved him, fiercely. None so more than me.
Don knew most of my family, and used to roadtrip with my uncle. He took a shine to me immediately, and started teaching me what he knew. He would open up early and close late to allow me to practice. For almost two years, I probably averaged 60 hours a week in that pool hall. I would gamble a lot. In the beginning, I lost a lot. Countless times Don would hand me a ten or twenty and say, "get back in that game, and win your money back." Even if I did, he would not let me pay him back. In short order, this man, who was older than my grandfather, became my best friend. I also became a deadly shot, at least for our small area.
When I was fourteen, Don finally sold the hall. A bunch of us pool hall rats all chipped in and bought him a gold watch, and they all let me compose the inscription. When we presented it to him, he cried, and hugged everyone of us.
Two years later, Don passed away with cancer. I skipped out on the wake, because I could not bear the thought of seeing him in a casket. I went to the funeral, and at the reception after it was completed, I went to his widow to offer my condolences. She saw me coming, and started to tear up. I had not shed a tear to this point, since hearing of his death. When I leaned down to her, she grabbed me in a tight hug, and whispered "You were his favorite. He loved you so much!" And that statement finally broke the damn. The tears came hot and fast then, and I literally cried for hours. It has been 21 years since he died, and as I write this, I am still shedding tears. Since then, pool has always been with me. I have met so many wonderful people, played in so many different places, and have had countless amazing experiences. All because of that old man. I owe him so much.
To this day, if someone were to say an ill word about Don in the vicinity of one of the old rats, there would be blood shed. I honestly have never met another human being who was so universally loved, at least by the people who were important. Rest in peace, Peckerhead. I hope you are running racks and listening to the Steeler's fight song up there!
And that is my story for the greatest pool hall I have ever been in. It closed up one year after Don sold it, so it only exists in my heart now.
Braden
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Champion was a great place back then. It was a treat to drive out to Laurel once in a while to play there. It did go downhill after a while, but it was nice while it lasted.
The recent look at rec.sport.billiard (see How High is the bet thread by JoeyA), I found the thread from 1999 on RSB that described my first NYC poolroom experience in 1986 a few pages ago. Here it is:
When I was 19, I took my first trip to NYC without my parents. It was
a sort of college trip. Students and alumni could take a bus to the
Big Apple for the weekend and stay at the Empire Hotel for around $75.
Not too shabby. Now all of the other students, they all wanted to hit
the shops, visit the Roxy, climb the Statue of Liberty. But not me.
I had one thing in mind: find a Manhattan pool hall. It had been
rumored that there were thousands, but to my dismay, the key word
"were" meant past tense. I hunted down a phone booth that actually
had a phone book. You know the type where you push down where it
says, "push here" and the phone book sort of rotates out to you. Much
more trouble than it's worth: silly engineers. Anyway, I couldn't
figure out why every phone book I found was missing the page with
"Billiards" on it. I pondered this at the fourth or fifth phone book
when finally, a non-missing "Billiards" yellow page was there, left
intact. I promptly ripped the page out still wondering why they were
always missing.
The page led me to a nearby pool hall. I can't recall the name. The
address was on a main street, but the entance was apparently down a
side street. In fact, the entrance was down an *alley* on that side
street. I climbed what must have been a fire escape of sorts up
several flights of this old brick building. It seemed abandoned.
Maybe this was some wild goose chase of a pool hall that had already
met the "past tense" fate.
I entered the building. There were no windows to speak of. It seemed
like I was in an urban cave. I walked down a hall, up a short flight
of stairs, turned the corner, and bam, a door! The glass on the door
read "BILLIARDS". No name, no neon, no nothing. For all I knew, on
the other side of the door could've been a dentist's receptionist, or
two dead rats. I grabbed the doorknob, took a breath, held it, and
slowly opened the door.
The first sensation was the distinct whiff of stale smoke.
Combination of cigarette, cigar, and felt. Oh yes, felt. It was
definitely a pool hall. And then came the clicks. Like a convention
of finger snappers. Click, click,click, buh-click. Thunderball
breaks and the din of a crowd.
I gazed throughout the room. It was enormous. I was used to our
local 8-table room that couldn't have been much more than 1000 square
feet. This may have been 10,000 square feet with some 40-60 tables.
I looked back into the hallway, a narrow 5-ft hollow. Then back into
the room, a room that now seemed bigger than the building looked from
the street. The 10 or so carom tables were lined neatly near the
left wall, out of the way of the 9-ballers. Pool tables filled the
rest of the expanse. Light came through 4 or 5 huge factory windows
highlighting the dancing smoke and dust in the air. There was no
jukebox, no beer, no snacks (other than pistachios for a quarter).
The balls were dirty; the sticks were warped and split. Each table had
over them wire with markers. Some, if not all, hadn't seen
maintenance in years, if ever. The weight of the markers slowly
stretched the wire, as they sagged like hammocks. Water marks were
present on both the undulating narrow board floors and on the tired
green cloth.
I noticed what looked to be a Western Union teller's window. It had
steel bars with a Plexiglas barrier. Behind the barrier was the
teller, accompanied by a cigar and a leather teller's visor. I
decided to approach him. When he looked up he seemed startled, with
that "what the hell do you want?" look. I asked if I could grab a
table. "Grab a number!" he hoarsed with that oh-so New York accent.
I was surprised to see that he was pointing to one of those number
gizmos usually associated with the grocery deli. It really didn't
dawn on me that in the middle of the day, with around 50 pool tables,
that none would be unoccupied. It also didn't dawn on me that there
was a waiting area filled with...people.
Such was my first experience with a NYC pool hall. I did end up
playing, but it really didn't matter. Just the act of discovering was
an experience I'll cherish. I described the pool hall to a friend,
and he says it sounded like Jillians. Could've been. Who knows. I
hear it's gone now. If that's true, that's too bad. Now, where's
that phone book...
When I was 19, I took my first trip to NYC without my parents. It was
a sort of college trip. Students and alumni could take a bus to the
Big Apple for the weekend and stay at the Empire Hotel for around $75.
Not too shabby. Now all of the other students, they all wanted to hit
the shops, visit the Roxy, climb the Statue of Liberty. But not me.
I had one thing in mind: find a Manhattan pool hall. It had been
rumored that there were thousands, but to my dismay, the key word
"were" meant past tense. I hunted down a phone booth that actually
had a phone book. You know the type where you push down where it
says, "push here" and the phone book sort of rotates out to you. Much
more trouble than it's worth: silly engineers. Anyway, I couldn't
figure out why every phone book I found was missing the page with
"Billiards" on it. I pondered this at the fourth or fifth phone book
when finally, a non-missing "Billiards" yellow page was there, left
intact. I promptly ripped the page out still wondering why they were
always missing.
The page led me to a nearby pool hall. I can't recall the name. The
address was on a main street, but the entance was apparently down a
side street. In fact, the entrance was down an *alley* on that side
street. I climbed what must have been a fire escape of sorts up
several flights of this old brick building. It seemed abandoned.
Maybe this was some wild goose chase of a pool hall that had already
met the "past tense" fate.
I entered the building. There were no windows to speak of. It seemed
like I was in an urban cave. I walked down a hall, up a short flight
of stairs, turned the corner, and bam, a door! The glass on the door
read "BILLIARDS". No name, no neon, no nothing. For all I knew, on
the other side of the door could've been a dentist's receptionist, or
two dead rats. I grabbed the doorknob, took a breath, held it, and
slowly opened the door.
The first sensation was the distinct whiff of stale smoke.
Combination of cigarette, cigar, and felt. Oh yes, felt. It was
definitely a pool hall. And then came the clicks. Like a convention
of finger snappers. Click, click,click, buh-click. Thunderball
breaks and the din of a crowd.
I gazed throughout the room. It was enormous. I was used to our
local 8-table room that couldn't have been much more than 1000 square
feet. This may have been 10,000 square feet with some 40-60 tables.
I looked back into the hallway, a narrow 5-ft hollow. Then back into
the room, a room that now seemed bigger than the building looked from
the street. The 10 or so carom tables were lined neatly near the
left wall, out of the way of the 9-ballers. Pool tables filled the
rest of the expanse. Light came through 4 or 5 huge factory windows
highlighting the dancing smoke and dust in the air. There was no
jukebox, no beer, no snacks (other than pistachios for a quarter).
The balls were dirty; the sticks were warped and split. Each table had
over them wire with markers. Some, if not all, hadn't seen
maintenance in years, if ever. The weight of the markers slowly
stretched the wire, as they sagged like hammocks. Water marks were
present on both the undulating narrow board floors and on the tired
green cloth.
I noticed what looked to be a Western Union teller's window. It had
steel bars with a Plexiglas barrier. Behind the barrier was the
teller, accompanied by a cigar and a leather teller's visor. I
decided to approach him. When he looked up he seemed startled, with
that "what the hell do you want?" look. I asked if I could grab a
table. "Grab a number!" he hoarsed with that oh-so New York accent.
I was surprised to see that he was pointing to one of those number
gizmos usually associated with the grocery deli. It really didn't
dawn on me that in the middle of the day, with around 50 pool tables,
that none would be unoccupied. It also didn't dawn on me that there
was a waiting area filled with...people.
Such was my first experience with a NYC pool hall. I did end up
playing, but it really didn't matter. Just the act of discovering was
an experience I'll cherish. I described the pool hall to a friend,
and he says it sounded like Jillians. Could've been. Who knows. I
hear it's gone now. If that's true, that's too bad. Now, where's
that phone book...
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Wow! So many wonderful stories!!! Thank you all for so many good pool halls!
Many Regards,
Lock N Load.
I have two.
First one was back in the '60s it was a little place with 8
Brunswick Anniversary tables,wood floors and some pretty good players.I was a teenager at the time and to me it was great. 50 cents per hour per person and the old clay balls. It was named Park Billiard Academy but was known as "Pokes" after one of the owners. It was in Neptune N.J.
But my all time favorite was The Ballroom in Toms River N.J.
36 Gold Crown tables and packed every night during the '80s.Good food,action and open until 2 or 3 am on most nights.
First one was back in the '60s it was a little place with 8
Brunswick Anniversary tables,wood floors and some pretty good players.I was a teenager at the time and to me it was great. 50 cents per hour per person and the old clay balls. It was named Park Billiard Academy but was known as "Pokes" after one of the owners. It was in Neptune N.J.
But my all time favorite was The Ballroom in Toms River N.J.
36 Gold Crown tables and packed every night during the '80s.Good food,action and open until 2 or 3 am on most nights.
Cue-Nique in Madison Wisconsin
One of the first upscale poolrooms in the country. When I started going there they had an aquarium of about 100 gallons right in the middle of the room. Besides having Jeff Carter and Mark Wilson in there nearly all the time, you could get free lessons one day each week from possibly the best instructor on the planet, Jerry Briesath. Last and not least, the houseman Cappy could keep you out of a game you didn't belong in and shoot a little straight pool with you when things were slow. Those were the days, too bad it was over 30 years ago.
One of the first upscale poolrooms in the country. When I started going there they had an aquarium of about 100 gallons right in the middle of the room. Besides having Jeff Carter and Mark Wilson in there nearly all the time, you could get free lessons one day each week from possibly the best instructor on the planet, Jerry Briesath. Last and not least, the houseman Cappy could keep you out of a game you didn't belong in and shoot a little straight pool with you when things were slow. Those were the days, too bad it was over 30 years ago.
Great story Braden! Thanks for sharing it. :thumbup2:
The Rack in Oak Park, MI - here's some of the reason's why: http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=123315&highlight=capitol+rack
I also have a soft spot for Cushion n Cue, my original home room in Oak Park, about 1/2 mile from the Rack.
Dave
I also have a soft spot for Cushion n Cue, my original home room in Oak Park, about 1/2 mile from the Rack.
Dave
Chris's Billiards on Milwaukee Avenue, in Chicago. 41 tables, all 9' except for the snooker table. Place opens at 8:30 am every day. I like to go there and work on my game early in the day with all the old timers in there playing on the billiard tables. Bathroom is fairly clean.
Red shoes on the south side of the city is good old time place too.
And, if you are in Springfield Il, Starship is good.
When I first starting playing pool, I played at Wilt's in Arlington, TX. It had a couple bar boxes, about eight 8-footers, about six 9-footers and the only 12-foot snooker table within at least 100 miles (that I know of). What's more the staff was friendly and the place became like Cheers to me. After they closed, I've been unable to find anything close to a true pool hall around me that can even compare. Thanks for the memories Vern!
Northfield Billiards
Northfield Billiards was the best for me.It had atmosphere, action, tournaments 3 each and every week, and was loaded with characters. The race track was 1/3 of a mile down the rode and greasy spoons all over the area.The place stayed opened until everyone had left, 3, 4, 5 am whatever.9600 square feet , 20 9ft's 12 were diamonds the other 8 were Gold crowns. There were 3 bar boxes and a 1500 sq. ft eating area in the back along with a Pro shop.Also included was 10 by 10 ft room for card players and there was always someone waitng to get a spot in there.The room had everything anyone could hope for in a room.There will never be anything like that again in North east Ohio.
Northfield Billiards was the best for me.It had atmosphere, action, tournaments 3 each and every week, and was loaded with characters. The race track was 1/3 of a mile down the rode and greasy spoons all over the area.The place stayed opened until everyone had left, 3, 4, 5 am whatever.9600 square feet , 20 9ft's 12 were diamonds the other 8 were Gold crowns. There were 3 bar boxes and a 1500 sq. ft eating area in the back along with a Pro shop.Also included was 10 by 10 ft room for card players and there was always someone waitng to get a spot in there.The room had everything anyone could hope for in a room.There will never be anything like that again in North east Ohio.