Had a good time. Mostly, because I went with lowered expectations. Before I left, my wife was in disbelief, "I can't believe you're going, 'again!' All you do is beech about the bad scheduling and the waiting around and how you can't get a table."
Women. All that logic. Geez.
So I went down early Sunday morning to sign up in time for the 1pocket, which was suppose to go off at noon. The entry was $125. PLUS a $6 and change "convenience fee" PLUS a $25 "late fee" for signing up the day of the tournament. What horse sheet.
But I paid up anyway and toured around. It seemed slightly less crowded to me than in years past. Several vendors I spoke to thought it was the price of gas that was keeping people away. Guido, my favorite cue mechanic, said it was real slow and hoped that by the time the 9ball started Wednesday, things would pick up. Joe Salazar gave me a heads up and said, "Ernie is around here somewhere. You should go find him and show him your cue." So I went into one room where I knew there were some high end cues on display and there he was, checking them out. So I introduce myself. We'd talked on the phone several times before, but never met in person. So I go, "Ernie, my name is Lou Figueroa and about 12 years ago you made me this old-style cue. It's a pleasure to finally meet you and I just wanted you to know that I still love it and play with it almost every day." So Ernie examines the cue (which has a few chips in the finish around the bottom of the ivory butt plate and says, "Yeah. I remember this cue. You should send it back to me to be refinished before the ivory discolors." And he hands it back without further comment or pleasantries and turns away. To his credit, there *may* have been a muttered "glad you liked it," somewhere in there. But if there was, it was definitely muttered at dog hearing levels.
On the plus side, cue wise, Tuesday afternoon I'm playing a match in the main room, right in front of the scorers' desk. Across the room, sitting in the front row, Buddy Hall is watching me, *really* intently. At first I thought I was imagining it, but he was really staring. So I play the match and try and forget/ignore it. Wednesday morning I'm walking out of the tournament room and Buddy is sitting at the Inside Pool booth, just to one side of the tournament room doors and he says to me, "What kinda of cue is that that you're playing with?" And I tell him, "Old school Gina, Buddy." And I pull it out of my case and hand it to him. And for a couple of minutes, he just goes over it, inch by inch, saying, "Beautiful. Just, absolutely, beautiful." And he hands it back and says, "Thanks for showing that to me." And I say, "Thank you, Buddy." I tuck the Gina back into its case and walk down the hallway, one happy camper.
So, I run into many friends and acquaintances from past years from all over the country. It was very cool to see so many folks I knew. There was also a large St. Louis contingent there for the first time.
Finally, after interminable rounds of banks, they do the 1pocket draw around 6pm and I luck out, getting a match for the second group of the first round. My table is up stairs against Peter Congi, from Niagara Falls. HE shows up with a SP in a plastic sleeve that he had just bought downs stairs when some buddies talked him into playing at the last minute. Well, Peter played just fine with that new SP and I had my hands full, but won 3-1. It was time for a Corona.
I spend most of the evening walking around, with extended stops in the 14.1/1pocket challenge room and I get drafted to score for Gabe Owens while he attempts the 14.1 challenge. The idea was that you'd take your 12 attempts in groups of four, so that you'd have a shot at each day's high run score. But Gabe gets so frustrated he fires off all 12 barrels in one swell poop, scoring a high of 43 (with many runs ending the first rack). Though I feel his pain, in all honesty, it also made me feel a little good too, to see a pro do what I do
Monday, Guido is still pretty slow at his booth, so I take advantage and have him retip all three Gina shafts. I had tried some Everest tips and thought they sucked, so I had him put on some soft/medium Kamuis and liked the way they play. The second round draw comes and I get a guy who's name I don't recognize, so I'm feeling pretty good. But for some strange reason, every time someone asks me who I drew and I tell them, they suddenly get this look on their face like I just told them about a death in my family. The guy's name is Mike Surber, from maybe Mississippi and it turns out he's in the final six in the banks and finished in the top ten in the 1pocket last year. Lou loses 3-0. I know it doesn't sound close, but a couple of shots go the other way and Lou is in the thick of it. Time for Coronas and sweating more of the 14.1 challenge.
While there I get a chance to see Schmidt run a perfect 15 (and a 14) at the 1pocket challenge and he ends up with something like a score of 43 or 45 total (out of a five rack attempt). Greg Sullivan calls me out into the hallway and we sit and chat for a half hour about the DCC and it's future next year. The Executive West is going to be remodeled and he's thinking about the fairgrounds across the street, still using the EW as the host hotel. We talk about the event, my past posts about the DCC :-o , challenges a new venue will present, and the overall future of the DCC. Berry interesting. Frankly, I believe there will be significant problems with the DCC returning to the EW, due to the extensive nature of the remodeling, which would severely limit (reduce) the size of future events. And, it is my opinion that there will be significant problems with the proposed fairground site. But at this stage I also believe we should all keep an open mind.
But here's the biggest thing: in spite of all you might say about the EW being a bit old fashion in decor and perhaps a bit worn down about the edges, it had a charm that somehow, seemed just right for a pool jamboree. The tournament room with the vaulted ceiling and the chapel alcove with its stained glass; the walk upstairs to the Cooney - Walden tournament room; the roasted nut vendor and massage station by the the stairs; the walk down the long hallway filled with vendors, the office, cue mechanics, the guy doing the magic tricks; the separate small rooms for more cue and gimcrack displays; the bar; the action room; and the Drinkwater Room with the two challenge tables; and well: with all the little nooks and crannies and dark wood, it had atmosphere and a certain je ne sais qua. And, after 10 years, it had tradition going for it. The remoding of the EW is a tough break for all of us.
Tuesday, I draw Bob Owens, of Schurtz cues. He plays strong, but Lou wins 3-0. At one point in the match, we call Scotty over to call a frozen shot I have to shoot. I look at him and deadpan, "You know, in all the years I've played here you've been called over to make a call on me three or four times, and you've never given me the call." We all have a good laugh, Lou shoots and, miraculously, Scotty gives me the call.
I've signed up for the 1pocket/Banks HOF dinner, so I go up to the desk and tell them, because the fourth round 1pocket draw is coming up around 6pm. And several folks behind the desk say OK, we'll put you down as at the dinner, just don't stay there forever, and I watch them write my name on the list. The dinner is cool and at the last moment Rachael Abbink sits down next to me. She is wearing this white, very low-cut, polka dot blouse and well, it was all just quite pleasant. Half way through the presentations, after Jimmy Reid and Petey Fusco get their awards, I see Efren and Karen Corr get up. So I figure they're still in the tournament and I'd better hustle back. It's pouring cats and dogs, so we have to wait for the shuttle from the Executive East back to the Executive West and a small group forms and the next thing I know, we pig pile into the van and Karen Corr is squeezed in next to me. She's so close that it's a bit awkward and I turn to her and say, "A pleasure meeting you." She laughs and says, "Yes, my pleasure, too."
We get back, I go to the desk and am told, "Ya know, we accidentally threw away the paper with the list on it and we knew there was one more guy, but couldn't remember the name." (This, in spite of at least two friends coming to the desk and telling them I was at the dinner, when they heard my name called.) So then the guy says, "Well, technically you forfeited, but it's our screw up so we'll just push you through to the next round." Thank you very much. Overall, I would have to say the event ran more smoothly than in past years. I think there were more folks on the desk keeping track of things, Scott Smith seemed more in the role of MC and referee, than being involved in the actual scheduling of matches. And they were piping in the tournament desk announcements to the second floor tournament room, which I can't recall them doing in the previous years, but I could be wrong about that. On the minus side, it was very evident that some players were getting preferred treatment when it came to calling their matches, efforts the tournament desk crew made to call those players, and the amount of time they were given to show for a match. Not fair.
I check out the Action Room and it's packed to the gills. I watch a little of the Sarah/Monica match. They're playing a set of 1pocket and it looks like they believe 1pocket is all about seeing how fast you can bunt all the balls up table. So after five minutes of that, I move back to the 14./1 challenge and get to seek Ralph Souquet miss two back-to-back break shots with BIH. Don't ask me why, but seeing champions do that stuff (like moi) tickles me to death. On the 1pocket challenge table Corey, Alex, and Gabe decide they're going to chase Schmidt's 40 whatever it was. It was like they were absolutely determined to not let John have the high score. I think one of them finally bested it by a couple of balls, but who knows how much they spent, at $50 for two tries, getting there.
So then I go into the bar and I'm getting my Corona and there's a *really* pretty blond sitting at the bar and she says, rather loudly, "Hi, Lou!" Now I'm thinking: WHERE do I know HER from?! And it just comes out, "You know, when someone is as pretty as you, I don't usually forget their name." And she says, "Heather." So I shake her hand and tell her, "I won't forget" and go about my business all the while racking what's left of my brain trying to figure out where I know "Heather" from. So about an hour later I go to reload the Corona and "Heather" is still there, but she's sitting with the road agent I've been playing in St. Louis the last couple of months and then it hits me: it's his girl, who works at one of the local, ummm, clubs. I had seen her at the pool room once or twice, but had never been introduced. So I turn to the road guy and tell him the story and he finally makes proper introductions to "Heather."
Wednesday morning I go to the Drinkwater room and score for Allen Hopkins at the 14.1 challenge, so Bob can go grab breakfast. As Hopkins is about to start I get a score sheet and say just loudly enough to make sure he hears, "So, what's this guy's name? Mike Sieg..." Everybody in the room, including Hopkins, busts out laughing. I draw Tony Mougey (who is still in the event as it dwindles down to the last dozen or so players). Anywhos, overnight I have developed scratchitis and lose 3-0. If not for the scratches, I'm in the match. Lou is out of the tournament.
So I buy a couple of 10th anniversary DCC t-shirts, a set of Freddy the Beard's new "Banks that Don't Go But Do" DVDs," gas up the car and head home. And so as Grady would say, "That, my friends, is another bit of pocket billiards history."
Lou Figueroa
Women. All that logic. Geez.
So I went down early Sunday morning to sign up in time for the 1pocket, which was suppose to go off at noon. The entry was $125. PLUS a $6 and change "convenience fee" PLUS a $25 "late fee" for signing up the day of the tournament. What horse sheet.
But I paid up anyway and toured around. It seemed slightly less crowded to me than in years past. Several vendors I spoke to thought it was the price of gas that was keeping people away. Guido, my favorite cue mechanic, said it was real slow and hoped that by the time the 9ball started Wednesday, things would pick up. Joe Salazar gave me a heads up and said, "Ernie is around here somewhere. You should go find him and show him your cue." So I went into one room where I knew there were some high end cues on display and there he was, checking them out. So I introduce myself. We'd talked on the phone several times before, but never met in person. So I go, "Ernie, my name is Lou Figueroa and about 12 years ago you made me this old-style cue. It's a pleasure to finally meet you and I just wanted you to know that I still love it and play with it almost every day." So Ernie examines the cue (which has a few chips in the finish around the bottom of the ivory butt plate and says, "Yeah. I remember this cue. You should send it back to me to be refinished before the ivory discolors." And he hands it back without further comment or pleasantries and turns away. To his credit, there *may* have been a muttered "glad you liked it," somewhere in there. But if there was, it was definitely muttered at dog hearing levels.
On the plus side, cue wise, Tuesday afternoon I'm playing a match in the main room, right in front of the scorers' desk. Across the room, sitting in the front row, Buddy Hall is watching me, *really* intently. At first I thought I was imagining it, but he was really staring. So I play the match and try and forget/ignore it. Wednesday morning I'm walking out of the tournament room and Buddy is sitting at the Inside Pool booth, just to one side of the tournament room doors and he says to me, "What kinda of cue is that that you're playing with?" And I tell him, "Old school Gina, Buddy." And I pull it out of my case and hand it to him. And for a couple of minutes, he just goes over it, inch by inch, saying, "Beautiful. Just, absolutely, beautiful." And he hands it back and says, "Thanks for showing that to me." And I say, "Thank you, Buddy." I tuck the Gina back into its case and walk down the hallway, one happy camper.
So, I run into many friends and acquaintances from past years from all over the country. It was very cool to see so many folks I knew. There was also a large St. Louis contingent there for the first time.
Finally, after interminable rounds of banks, they do the 1pocket draw around 6pm and I luck out, getting a match for the second group of the first round. My table is up stairs against Peter Congi, from Niagara Falls. HE shows up with a SP in a plastic sleeve that he had just bought downs stairs when some buddies talked him into playing at the last minute. Well, Peter played just fine with that new SP and I had my hands full, but won 3-1. It was time for a Corona.
I spend most of the evening walking around, with extended stops in the 14.1/1pocket challenge room and I get drafted to score for Gabe Owens while he attempts the 14.1 challenge. The idea was that you'd take your 12 attempts in groups of four, so that you'd have a shot at each day's high run score. But Gabe gets so frustrated he fires off all 12 barrels in one swell poop, scoring a high of 43 (with many runs ending the first rack). Though I feel his pain, in all honesty, it also made me feel a little good too, to see a pro do what I do
Monday, Guido is still pretty slow at his booth, so I take advantage and have him retip all three Gina shafts. I had tried some Everest tips and thought they sucked, so I had him put on some soft/medium Kamuis and liked the way they play. The second round draw comes and I get a guy who's name I don't recognize, so I'm feeling pretty good. But for some strange reason, every time someone asks me who I drew and I tell them, they suddenly get this look on their face like I just told them about a death in my family. The guy's name is Mike Surber, from maybe Mississippi and it turns out he's in the final six in the banks and finished in the top ten in the 1pocket last year. Lou loses 3-0. I know it doesn't sound close, but a couple of shots go the other way and Lou is in the thick of it. Time for Coronas and sweating more of the 14.1 challenge.
While there I get a chance to see Schmidt run a perfect 15 (and a 14) at the 1pocket challenge and he ends up with something like a score of 43 or 45 total (out of a five rack attempt). Greg Sullivan calls me out into the hallway and we sit and chat for a half hour about the DCC and it's future next year. The Executive West is going to be remodeled and he's thinking about the fairgrounds across the street, still using the EW as the host hotel. We talk about the event, my past posts about the DCC :-o , challenges a new venue will present, and the overall future of the DCC. Berry interesting. Frankly, I believe there will be significant problems with the DCC returning to the EW, due to the extensive nature of the remodeling, which would severely limit (reduce) the size of future events. And, it is my opinion that there will be significant problems with the proposed fairground site. But at this stage I also believe we should all keep an open mind.
But here's the biggest thing: in spite of all you might say about the EW being a bit old fashion in decor and perhaps a bit worn down about the edges, it had a charm that somehow, seemed just right for a pool jamboree. The tournament room with the vaulted ceiling and the chapel alcove with its stained glass; the walk upstairs to the Cooney - Walden tournament room; the roasted nut vendor and massage station by the the stairs; the walk down the long hallway filled with vendors, the office, cue mechanics, the guy doing the magic tricks; the separate small rooms for more cue and gimcrack displays; the bar; the action room; and the Drinkwater Room with the two challenge tables; and well: with all the little nooks and crannies and dark wood, it had atmosphere and a certain je ne sais qua. And, after 10 years, it had tradition going for it. The remoding of the EW is a tough break for all of us.
Tuesday, I draw Bob Owens, of Schurtz cues. He plays strong, but Lou wins 3-0. At one point in the match, we call Scotty over to call a frozen shot I have to shoot. I look at him and deadpan, "You know, in all the years I've played here you've been called over to make a call on me three or four times, and you've never given me the call." We all have a good laugh, Lou shoots and, miraculously, Scotty gives me the call.
I've signed up for the 1pocket/Banks HOF dinner, so I go up to the desk and tell them, because the fourth round 1pocket draw is coming up around 6pm. And several folks behind the desk say OK, we'll put you down as at the dinner, just don't stay there forever, and I watch them write my name on the list. The dinner is cool and at the last moment Rachael Abbink sits down next to me. She is wearing this white, very low-cut, polka dot blouse and well, it was all just quite pleasant. Half way through the presentations, after Jimmy Reid and Petey Fusco get their awards, I see Efren and Karen Corr get up. So I figure they're still in the tournament and I'd better hustle back. It's pouring cats and dogs, so we have to wait for the shuttle from the Executive East back to the Executive West and a small group forms and the next thing I know, we pig pile into the van and Karen Corr is squeezed in next to me. She's so close that it's a bit awkward and I turn to her and say, "A pleasure meeting you." She laughs and says, "Yes, my pleasure, too."
We get back, I go to the desk and am told, "Ya know, we accidentally threw away the paper with the list on it and we knew there was one more guy, but couldn't remember the name." (This, in spite of at least two friends coming to the desk and telling them I was at the dinner, when they heard my name called.) So then the guy says, "Well, technically you forfeited, but it's our screw up so we'll just push you through to the next round." Thank you very much. Overall, I would have to say the event ran more smoothly than in past years. I think there were more folks on the desk keeping track of things, Scott Smith seemed more in the role of MC and referee, than being involved in the actual scheduling of matches. And they were piping in the tournament desk announcements to the second floor tournament room, which I can't recall them doing in the previous years, but I could be wrong about that. On the minus side, it was very evident that some players were getting preferred treatment when it came to calling their matches, efforts the tournament desk crew made to call those players, and the amount of time they were given to show for a match. Not fair.
I check out the Action Room and it's packed to the gills. I watch a little of the Sarah/Monica match. They're playing a set of 1pocket and it looks like they believe 1pocket is all about seeing how fast you can bunt all the balls up table. So after five minutes of that, I move back to the 14./1 challenge and get to seek Ralph Souquet miss two back-to-back break shots with BIH. Don't ask me why, but seeing champions do that stuff (like moi) tickles me to death. On the 1pocket challenge table Corey, Alex, and Gabe decide they're going to chase Schmidt's 40 whatever it was. It was like they were absolutely determined to not let John have the high score. I think one of them finally bested it by a couple of balls, but who knows how much they spent, at $50 for two tries, getting there.
So then I go into the bar and I'm getting my Corona and there's a *really* pretty blond sitting at the bar and she says, rather loudly, "Hi, Lou!" Now I'm thinking: WHERE do I know HER from?! And it just comes out, "You know, when someone is as pretty as you, I don't usually forget their name." And she says, "Heather." So I shake her hand and tell her, "I won't forget" and go about my business all the while racking what's left of my brain trying to figure out where I know "Heather" from. So about an hour later I go to reload the Corona and "Heather" is still there, but she's sitting with the road agent I've been playing in St. Louis the last couple of months and then it hits me: it's his girl, who works at one of the local, ummm, clubs. I had seen her at the pool room once or twice, but had never been introduced. So I turn to the road guy and tell him the story and he finally makes proper introductions to "Heather."
Wednesday morning I go to the Drinkwater room and score for Allen Hopkins at the 14.1 challenge, so Bob can go grab breakfast. As Hopkins is about to start I get a score sheet and say just loudly enough to make sure he hears, "So, what's this guy's name? Mike Sieg..." Everybody in the room, including Hopkins, busts out laughing. I draw Tony Mougey (who is still in the event as it dwindles down to the last dozen or so players). Anywhos, overnight I have developed scratchitis and lose 3-0. If not for the scratches, I'm in the match. Lou is out of the tournament.
So I buy a couple of 10th anniversary DCC t-shirts, a set of Freddy the Beard's new "Banks that Don't Go But Do" DVDs," gas up the car and head home. And so as Grady would say, "That, my friends, is another bit of pocket billiards history."
Lou Figueroa
Last edited:
