Our reputation for being lazy, larcenous, ne'er-do-wells is well deserved. Look at our history.
All of our heroes were gambler/hustler types who plied their trade from town to town, living hand and mouth, always looking for that next big score. Sometimes staying in grand hotels, sometimes the back seat of their car.
A few had money. Cokes, I believe, was said to be wealthy. Weenie Beenie owned a couple of hot dog stands. But in the main few had any appreciable means of support other than what they could muster on a pool table. We know that the great Lassiter passed with only eight dollars and change in his pocket.
To many of us pool players we view our heritage as a romanticized version of the old West, or the adventures Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Nothing could be further from the truth. As it turns out a life in the pool room is no life at all.
When I was fifteen and told my Parents about my first experience inside a pool hall they were dead set against me going back. A dark, smoke-filled room populated by gamblers, ex-cons, and old men who drink from bottles in paper sacks was no place for a teenage boy. They were right, you know.
Based on what I have read about Cokes, he was a near broke con man gangster running a scam with a phoney oil well they were selling shares of , when the hole started spurting oil and made them all rich.