I hope some enjoy this tale. Be warned, it is a long read!
Yes, the passive hustle is the way I played. I laid out a spread like setting out duck decoys on a pond. Nobody had to come to the pond but the lure of easy money usually got me some "customers". The lure of easy money is strong! The starting bet on challenge tables was usually small, five a game was very good. A working stiff just out to win a little or lose a little wouldn't jack the bet and wouldn't get burned too badly. Hustlers laid down and kept jacking the bet. When the bet got right, most commonly twenty a game back then, they tried to close in for the kill and their game got a lot better! Usually mine was good enough to keep winning but I could never be positive until the other player opened up his game. Two hustlers on the table, no reason for outsiders to be emotionally involved unless they knew one of them.
I loved playing pool, still do. That made every night grinding a pleasure. I started off maybe the second worse player in the US, I couldn't win more beer than I lost in bars the first six months. After that I was doing better than break even. Life was good and money games were mostly a way of keeping score.
A few times I had to make a living playing pool for three to six months at a stretch. Robbed me of all the pleasure of playing pool. In the seventies or early eighties my goal was to make a hundred a day on the road playing. At the very worst break even. I wasn't inside the loop of road players so unlike those that shared information I walked into every new place blind. I played the odds, I knew I was going to win a lot more games than I lost, field run. If I did run into a guy I couldn't beat and didn't find better action one day so that I lost money on action and expenses then I would roll those losses ahead until I made enough to cover them and the daily nut for the time in between.
There was a certain tingle when you opened the door of a place and scanned looking for likely action. Traveling there wasn't time to lay down and try to start midpack or slightly above and move slowly up the chain for days. The plan was to latch onto the person most willing to put down cash or had others wanting to back him or bet on him. Once things were over the next trick was getting out the door and down the road. That wasn't a problem every time but often enough that putting together an exit plan pretty much started as soon as you got into action. It varied place to place. First thing I did was try to find the bouncer if I was in a place that had one. If not a bouncer the biggest toughest looking man in sight. I would buy them a drink or two. Tell the bouncers that if there was trouble it would be over fast and I would be out the door. I said as sincerely as possible, "I would appreciate it if you aren't between me and the door." Put politely it usually worked. All the bouncer was going to do was throw me out on my ear anyway, better to let me leave on my own than to catch bruises and scrapes that weren't necessary.
I never was or considered myself a road player. A few days, a few weeks, and I was back home. I did pay every bill on time and cover the mortgages on my home and commercial property. I was glad when a good job came along or the local economy picked up. Pool for recreation, even a side income, was fun. As a full time business it got old quick. Thinking back on those days I am glad that I had no hostages to fortune back then. I do have to say, if I had it all to do all over again I probably would. A few regrets but more of omission than commission.
I actively hustled somebody twice as a young teen. I was told that is what pool players did and I wanted to be a pool player. It took about six months after the first time to do it again, thought I might get used to it. Both times a made a nice little score for the time, over a week's pay, but I disliked it so much I never did it again. Laying a spread? I am sure I have done that over a thousand times. Even lately when I don't gamble when the old railbirds came over to watch me play the counterman a little I went on the stall a bit. Old habits die hard!
Hu
