Yes, it is so sad. Geese suffered from schizophrenia. It is hard to understand when he goes into one of those episodes. He could be so sweet and a lot of fun when he was happy, but he had a lot of mood swings, for lack of a better word.
His mother told me that when Geese was on the road one year, he was down in Lousiana at a well-known pool room for action. There was only one door that goes in and out of the place. One night, the place was packed, and the gambling was rampant, and the stakes were high. Some thugs entered the place, locked the door, and held everybody at gunpoint, demanding their cash and jewelry.
When they came to Geese, they asked him if that was all that he had, whatever he put out there, and Geese said yes. Somehow they knew he had a big wad of cabbage in his sock, and they told him to take it out and give it to them. Then they beat the crap out of him, really, really bad. Geese's brother had to fly down to Louisiana and bring him back home. According to his mother, Geese was never the same after that incident. I won't go into his medical treatments, but it is sad that he was not able to enjoy a normal life after that due to his mental demons.
I do know, getting back on topic, that his pride and joy was boasting that he was third in the world at one time, thanks to Johnston City. Going on the road with Geese was fun for me. I had never seen action like this before. We mainly went down South, never played in tournaments. I wanted to go into the bars for action, but Geese wanted to go to the pool rooms. Best pool room for action at that time was a place in Tampa called Baker's.
Geese was a true road warrior, much more so than a tournament soldier. I started emulating his stroke after we were together a while. He had a one-two-three-shoot stroke, with long stroking before he fired at the ball, and those eyes of his. Talk about killer instinct. When he was in action, there was no fun and games like it is with Keith McCready. He was all business, unless he was playing a lobster. :grin:
