There is no context that excuses the twisted ego that brags about buying and selling people.
"I was mad at John" was just the spur that showed your true character
I guess you've never had someone take you by surprise and start raging at you all the while swinging a motorcycle helmet.
Like I said, context is everything and when someone is going off on you you fire back and will say whatever comes into your head. So here's the whole thing from my 2013 US One Pocket Open Report:
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I return to Buzios for another good meal and Steve, the chef behind the bar, and I talk about Candlestick Park and Willie Mays. The food is still great. Eventually I re-enter the tournament room to find I am to play Jeremy Jones. Playing on the next table is Mr. 400, John Schmidt. Our eyes meet and I greet him by saying, "Mr. Schmidt." And he responds by saying, "Mr. Laptop."
?
I pause a moment and figure this is some kind of slight but just say, "I don't own a laptop, John. Your need to step into the next century. It's all iPads now." Unbeknownst to me, Mr. Schmidt was not done with me for the night.
Jeremy and I begin our match and I win the first game and get off to a 6-2 lead in the next. But, truth be told, he out moves me, taking several intentionals. At one point he calls a referee over to monitor a jacked up shot I must shoot with the balls separated by perhaps a half inch. I jack up and shoot away from the ball, the ref says, "No foul," and Jeremy does not like the call. I only mention this because of the TAR match incident, draw your own conclusions. Regardless, eventually, almost inevitably, I lose 1-3. Tournament over for Lou.
So I'm walking away from the "pro" arena and up comes Mr. Schmidt. I can tell he's "agitated" because his cheeks are flushed and then he gets surprisingly close to my face and says, "I know that after a match you've lost is not the best time to talk, but if you ever have something you want to say to me, you can say it to my face."
A little background: not too long ago there was a thread on 14.1 runs and I had opined that, IMO, a player should not pick up the CB to clean it mid-run, but that if the CB required cleaning, it should be done by anyone else but the player. I had also said that IMO, the balls should not be repeatedly run through a ball polisher during a run because it caused the balls to open up like "a bag of spilt popcorn." It was my opinion that a run should get tougher the longer it becomes and I alluded to polishing the balls repeatedly during a run being akin to putting in an escalator near the summit of Mt. Everest. At the time, Mr. Schmidt took great personal umbrage at my comments, and months later, they appeared to still be on his mind.
So now we're at the U.S. Open and he is in my face holding his motorcycle helmet and I say, "John I feel the same way." And he responds, "OK, I think you're a dick. You're a no talent, wannabe pool player. You're a fat Mexican who couldn't get laid in prison. I bet $2,000 we can go outside and I'll whip your ass. We can go now. In fact I bet I could ***** slap you right here and you wouldn't do a thing about it."
Somewhere in all that I believe I responded, "I'm not Mexican, John. And if you were to hit me, you're right, I wouldn't do anything but I have a good attorney that would make your life a living hell. I am a wannabe pool player, but could buy you several times over, and I feel sorry for you if pool is the best thing you've got going for you. You're a class act, John. A class act all the way."
Straight pool players are a high strung lot.
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Like I said, context is everything.
Now in his defense, John apologized, as did I, at the next DCC. Here's an extract from my 2014 DCC Report:
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At 6pm I am to play Evan Lunda, Jr., a young man who I believe is from the Detroit area, though I could be wrong about that. I’m sitting on a stool in the corner while he warms up and I see John Schmidt standing a table length away. As regular readers might recall, John and I had exchanged pleasantries in Las Vegas the year before. So I was a little apprehensive as he walks up to me. I stood.
And John says, “I want to apologize for Vegas. You didn’t deserve that. I was told by someone that you said something about me and when I told them that I had confronted you I could tell they started to back peddle. And I got upset and told them that you and I had almost had a fight over it.” I tell him, “John I accept your apology and I want to apologize also, I was no class act either. I have always admired you and your game. You’re a champion.” And, although we didn’t exactly kiss and hug, another handshake was exchanged and I believe John and I are good.
*****
Regrettably though, there are shee-at disturbers here that like to bring up bits and pieces from the past to make it sound as if I have a vendetta against JS. Nothing could be further from the truth and I have often said he is a great player, here and personally to JS.
Lou Figueroa