I have a few funny gambling stories, there were never any fists thrown, but they were all pretty wierd. All names of my victims will be protected, except for Franco, cause I never really liked the guy.
And that's where I'll begin. I was in my local pool room practicing when Franco walked in and started woofing at me. We start to play a set for $50, and for those of you who know Franco, it may as well be $5,000 if he is betting his own money, which I'm sure he was that night, otherwise I think he would've wanted to bet more. Anyways, the first set goes double hill, and I ask him to start the set over and bet $150. He agreed and I beat him pretty easily that set. Not to anyone's surprise, Franco broke down his cue and handed me $100. I asked him what about the other $50, and he said no, the bet was a $100, not $150. Maybe it was a language barrier thing, but it really wasn't any big deal to me, nor a big surprise. The funny part was, my friend who weighs about 100 pounds soaking wet got in Franco's face. Franco put a hand on my friend, and my friend reared back like he was about to hit him. I've never seen anyone run so fast in my life. Franco was out the door in his car and out of the parking lot in about 5 seconds flat, the whole time my friend giving chase on foot.
A real weird experience I had one time, I was playing one of my regular customers one night past closing time. We always played $200 9 ball sets or $50/$100 one pocket. This night we were playing 9 ball. The bartender must've been in the restroom or something and had not locked the doors. In walked a couple of the shady looking guys I'd never seen. They walked around the poolroom, which was absolutely empty save for my competition and a couple of sweaters. They then just walked up to the rail and took a seat, never saying a word. The first thing I thought is that they had heard about us gambling regularly at this time and were planning to rob us. Now at this time, I had my opponent 8-1 in a race to 9. I walked up to him and told him I didn't feel right about those guys and he said he felt the same way and that we would continue the set later. Me, my opponent and the sweaters all walked out the door together. The next time I saw my customer, we flipped a coin and started the set over. Neither one of us said anything about the score of the set we didn't finish. All I can say is I'm glad I won the set.
The last story is another funny story where my opponent just got real mad. He's a world class player and I was on the receiving end of the handicap playing some one pocket. I was already beating on him pretty good when he sold out the game. He waited until I won the game, but when I did, he calmly busted the shaft over his knee. At this point, his girlfriend, who was sweating the match started laughing at him. I don't think this helped things too much because he proceeded to go on supertilt and go Babe Ruth on me with the one pocket break. He called his pocket and broke'em wide open like eight ball. This made his girlfriend laugh even harder. I took a few seconds to gather myself, because it was all kind of surreal, and ran my seven to win the game and end the session.
And that's where I'll begin. I was in my local pool room practicing when Franco walked in and started woofing at me. We start to play a set for $50, and for those of you who know Franco, it may as well be $5,000 if he is betting his own money, which I'm sure he was that night, otherwise I think he would've wanted to bet more. Anyways, the first set goes double hill, and I ask him to start the set over and bet $150. He agreed and I beat him pretty easily that set. Not to anyone's surprise, Franco broke down his cue and handed me $100. I asked him what about the other $50, and he said no, the bet was a $100, not $150. Maybe it was a language barrier thing, but it really wasn't any big deal to me, nor a big surprise. The funny part was, my friend who weighs about 100 pounds soaking wet got in Franco's face. Franco put a hand on my friend, and my friend reared back like he was about to hit him. I've never seen anyone run so fast in my life. Franco was out the door in his car and out of the parking lot in about 5 seconds flat, the whole time my friend giving chase on foot.
A real weird experience I had one time, I was playing one of my regular customers one night past closing time. We always played $200 9 ball sets or $50/$100 one pocket. This night we were playing 9 ball. The bartender must've been in the restroom or something and had not locked the doors. In walked a couple of the shady looking guys I'd never seen. They walked around the poolroom, which was absolutely empty save for my competition and a couple of sweaters. They then just walked up to the rail and took a seat, never saying a word. The first thing I thought is that they had heard about us gambling regularly at this time and were planning to rob us. Now at this time, I had my opponent 8-1 in a race to 9. I walked up to him and told him I didn't feel right about those guys and he said he felt the same way and that we would continue the set later. Me, my opponent and the sweaters all walked out the door together. The next time I saw my customer, we flipped a coin and started the set over. Neither one of us said anything about the score of the set we didn't finish. All I can say is I'm glad I won the set.
The last story is another funny story where my opponent just got real mad. He's a world class player and I was on the receiving end of the handicap playing some one pocket. I was already beating on him pretty good when he sold out the game. He waited until I won the game, but when I did, he calmly busted the shaft over his knee. At this point, his girlfriend, who was sweating the match started laughing at him. I don't think this helped things too much because he proceeded to go on supertilt and go Babe Ruth on me with the one pocket break. He called his pocket and broke'em wide open like eight ball. This made his girlfriend laugh even harder. I took a few seconds to gather myself, because it was all kind of surreal, and ran my seven to win the game and end the session.
they come right up to the table, and put down a $20. I just won the last game, and I'm in the middle of racking. I told the guys theres a line, we just don't stack quarters to see who's next. They say....no quarters on the rail, were next and we want to play for $20....I say....game on! my friend Greg comes from behind me, slaps down a $20 and laughed at the guys. This threw them off because who puts up the $$ for someone else right?....I laughed and said the to the kids....he's my backer
