Action turned awry
- Thread starter BigVic
- Start date
weee-doggie!
Do I have stories about fights and leaving at the head of a parade! When I was young and dumb before I smoothed out my gambling skills leaving ahead of a lynch mob was almost the norm. When it came time to go I often stuck a twenty in my pocket to throw to the bartender on the way out the door to pay for the house stick I broke to get me to the door. For awhile I honestly averaged breaking about a dozen house sticks a year. A stick ain't great to fight with but few want to tangle with a broken one held chest high like a police baton with the pointy end ready to do business. Was watching Marine bayonet training last night and noted certain similarities.
Once I was in a bar alone and had an issue with three guys over a pool table. Another man was in there alone and had an issue with pretty much the rest of the bar over a man's ex-wife that worked there. Somehow the poop hit the fan for both of us at the same time and we found ourselves side by side against an old stage with a couple dozen guys facing up. I had my cue butt held chest high ready to use the pin and butt to best advantage and the man next to me was only maybe 5'9" and 180 or smaller but he was a recently retired pro boxer. We were in a stand-off for about fifteen minutes and after awhile it got comical. The folks in the back were pushing forward but everyone in front knew that it was going to be very rough for the first folks that tangled with me and the cue or Bill. After a few minutes the people at the front of the pile although only inches away from Bill and I were visibly leaning back pushing against the pressure of the crowd to not get shoved into harm's way. This one eventually faded to nothing and after I left Bill beat everyone who had wanted to fight him arm wrestling, some twice!
I did tie up with the guys that had wanted to fight me outside on another occasion. The odds were two to one and one of the other guys started the game with a huge kick between my legs. It landed a little far back and didn't hurt at all and the party was on. He was into clawing, gouging and choking and everything he tried, I did. He was considerably larger than I was and eventually was on top of me trying to strangle me. Purely by accident my index finger went deeply into his mouth. When it did, I pulled him from on top of me to under me before the finger came out. A little later he got a finger in my mouth all the way down one side. Remembering what had happened to him, I bit down hard and held on until all he wanted was whatever was left of his finger back! That ended the fight. Funniest part was him whining to his buddies afterwards that I didn't fight fair.
For a few years I supplied all the beer for one large friend or another while I gambled but eventually I learned to leave the losers laughing. Stalling was not only a necessity to take the cheese, it was a necessity to survive. Had anyone had a clue as to my real speed some places I played I would have literally been lucky to leave alive after taking the money.
Hu
BigVic said:
Do I have stories about fights and leaving at the head of a parade! When I was young and dumb before I smoothed out my gambling skills leaving ahead of a lynch mob was almost the norm. When it came time to go I often stuck a twenty in my pocket to throw to the bartender on the way out the door to pay for the house stick I broke to get me to the door. For awhile I honestly averaged breaking about a dozen house sticks a year. A stick ain't great to fight with but few want to tangle with a broken one held chest high like a police baton with the pointy end ready to do business. Was watching Marine bayonet training last night and noted certain similarities.
Once I was in a bar alone and had an issue with three guys over a pool table. Another man was in there alone and had an issue with pretty much the rest of the bar over a man's ex-wife that worked there. Somehow the poop hit the fan for both of us at the same time and we found ourselves side by side against an old stage with a couple dozen guys facing up. I had my cue butt held chest high ready to use the pin and butt to best advantage and the man next to me was only maybe 5'9" and 180 or smaller but he was a recently retired pro boxer. We were in a stand-off for about fifteen minutes and after awhile it got comical. The folks in the back were pushing forward but everyone in front knew that it was going to be very rough for the first folks that tangled with me and the cue or Bill. After a few minutes the people at the front of the pile although only inches away from Bill and I were visibly leaning back pushing against the pressure of the crowd to not get shoved into harm's way. This one eventually faded to nothing and after I left Bill beat everyone who had wanted to fight him arm wrestling, some twice!
I did tie up with the guys that had wanted to fight me outside on another occasion. The odds were two to one and one of the other guys started the game with a huge kick between my legs. It landed a little far back and didn't hurt at all and the party was on. He was into clawing, gouging and choking and everything he tried, I did. He was considerably larger than I was and eventually was on top of me trying to strangle me. Purely by accident my index finger went deeply into his mouth. When it did, I pulled him from on top of me to under me before the finger came out. A little later he got a finger in my mouth all the way down one side. Remembering what had happened to him, I bit down hard and held on until all he wanted was whatever was left of his finger back! That ended the fight. Funniest part was him whining to his buddies afterwards that I didn't fight fair.
For a few years I supplied all the beer for one large friend or another while I gambled but eventually I learned to leave the losers laughing. Stalling was not only a necessity to take the cheese, it was a necessity to survive. Had anyone had a clue as to my real speed some places I played I would have literally been lucky to leave alive after taking the money.
Hu
BigVic said:
One of my "friends" Keith S of New Orleans, pulled me to the side one night about a year ago and said there's a guy who wants to play somoe $20 eight ball on the bar table, come on over and play him. So I go over to the guy and Keith introduces us and the guy is like 5'10" and about 300 lbs. He kind of looked like a 55 gallon drum except he had this monster head on top of that enormous body. He must have been 35 years old and he was kind of moving his body all of the time like he was high on something.
I gave Keith the "thanks a lot, eye" and posted the $20. Normally I wouldn't post twenty bucks but it was going to be hard to get the twenty out of this guy's pocket if he didn't want to give it to me.
The guy wins the flip and breaks the balls with a house cue and sounded like a thunder clap. I don't know if it was the power of his break or the cue ball slamming into the wall. It was unsettling to say the least. I knew I had better stay out of this guy's way from the get go. His break got him agitated so as usual when he shot (I made sure he got some shots) I remained absolutely still, never saying a word, never smiling....nothing. I now realize the guy can't run three fookin balls and I am not interested in hustling the guy but he is not a happy camper so I try to let him have some fun by at least not getting embarassed by someone stealing his twenty. He has a friend with him that looks like he was an extra from the movie Deliverance kind of jacked up in a crazy way too. It's about the middle of the game and the guy starts sweating and he starts hollering loud, "I don't like no m*****f*****s trying to cheat me. He's whacking the house cue on the table, making a loud cracking sound every time he misses which is kind of frequently. Then he starts spinning the cue stick in his hand like a baton. Hi hands are extremely strong looking and he spins the cue like it was a chopstick. The air is whistling as he spins the stick in the air, all the time looking more menacingly than ever. I'm wondering if I am going to the hospital tonight. I sit there watching him do his antics not looking directly at him but primarily focusing on the table. You know what they say about staring at a viscious dog; I'm not about to do that. Anyway, the guy looks like he is going to take my head off if I win and I think about this and think about it some more while I miss the next shot. After 10 or 15 minutes which seemed like an hour of this, I decide that I am not going to let him win. That's my damn twenty on the light too. And all he can do is send me to the hospital or kill me.
I figure that maybe before he dismantles me, my "friend" might hit him on the back of his head several times with a cue stick to get him off of me if he attacks me. I knew I could have hit this guy with a baseball bat and it would only make him mad as he was a very tough looking guy and strong to boot. So I finish the long game by carefully calling my pocket for the eight ball and win. The guy is shouting to his friend very angrily that he won't stand for anyone cheating him and he would kill a MFER that cheats him. I stayed down on the shot as he was barking all of this crap and make the shot. I stand up waiting for him to come running at me like a bull in a China shop and he's looking kind of angry and I walk right over to him and reach out my hand to him and say, "It was a tough match". His big mitten covered my rather large hand and he squeezed it just enough to let me know that he still was not happy and that he could have shattered the bones in my hand. I let go of his hand, went over to the light, picked up the two twenties and said "I need a beer, would you like a beer". His face softened a little and he nodded yes. We exchanged a few words that I don't even remember. I bought he and I a beer then both of us realized we didn't want to play another game. 
I looked around for my good friend "Keith S" and he wasn't too far away but when I offered Keith half of the net winnings, he declined, apologizing and saying I had earned all of it.
JoeyA
Yikes!
Great story. Friends like Keith and you will never need to hunt for enemies!
Hu
Great story. Friends like Keith and you will never need to hunt for enemies!
Hu
JoeyA said:One of my "friends" Keith S of New Orleans, pulled me to the side one night about a year ago and said there's a guy who wants to play somoe $20 eight ball on the bar table, come on over and play him. So I go over to the guy and Keith introduces us and the guy is like 5'10" and about 300 lbs. He kind of looked like a 55 gallon drum except he had this monster head on top of that enormous body. He must have been 35 years old and he was kind of moving his body all of the time like he was high on something.
I gave Keith the "thanks a lot, eye" and posted the $20. Normally I wouldn't post twenty bucks but it was going to be hard to get the twenty out of this guy's pocket if he didn't want to give it to me.
The guy wins the flip and breaks the balls with a house cue and sounded like a thunder clap. I don't know if it was the power of his break or the cue ball slamming into the wall. It was unsettling to say the least. I knew I had better stay out of this guy's way from the get go. His break got him agitated so as usual when he shot (I made sure he got some shots) I remained absolutely still, never saying a word, never smiling....nothing. I now realize the guy can't run three fookin balls and I am not interested in hustling the guy but he is not a happy camper so I try to let him have some fun by at least not getting embarassed by someone stealing his twenty. He has a friend with him that looks like he was an extra from the movie Deliverance kind of jacked up in a crazy way too. It's about the middle of the game and the guy starts sweating and he starts hollering loud, "I don't like no m*****f*****s trying to cheat me. He's whacking the house cue on the table, making a loud cracking sound every time he misses which is kind of frequently. Then he starts spinning the cue stick in his hand like a baton. Hi hands are extremely strong looking and he spins the cue like it was a chopstick. The air is whistling as he spins the stick in the air, all the time looking more menacingly than ever. I'm wondering if I am going to the hospital tonight. I sit there watching him do his antics not looking directly at him but primarily focusing on the table. You know what they say about staring at a viscious dog; I'm not about to do that. Anyway, the guy looks like he is going to take my head off if I win and I think about this and think about it some more while I miss the next shot. After 10 or 15 minutes which seemed like an hour of this, I decide that I am not going to let him win. That's my damn twenty on the light too. And all he can do is send me to the hospital or kill me.
I looked around for my good friend "Keith S" and he wasn't too far away but when I offered Keith half of the net winnings, he declined, apologizing and saying I had earned all of it.
JoeyA
great stories guys...thanks!
I've never been in a fist fight in the pool room thank God. The closest I got was the time I went to a small bar in gainesville to play in a $3 entry fee tournament. First prize was like $40. (hey it was 1989 and I was a broke as a joke student). So there I am drinking soda and beating these regulars, many of whom are not happy. One guy in particular starts really mouthing off and eventually he decides he's had enough and walks over to where I am sitting down waiting for the winner of a table. I didn't see him coming but I was later told he had picked up a cue and was holding it butt up in his two hands. Not good. Anyways, before he gets to me the owner of the bar and two other guys have him on the ground and I turn around to see this scuffle. They are like 10 feet from me. I think I was pretty close to getting KTFO from behind.
The owner, as it turns out, really liked tournament pool and had watched me play alot in the pool halls of gainesville. He knew I was a ringer in this small bar tourny but he was ok with me winning that day. He did tell me later that he thought it was a good idea if I not play there too much unless I wanted to first start hanging out and drinking a few rounds of beer with the regulars.
I've never been in a fist fight in the pool room thank God. The closest I got was the time I went to a small bar in gainesville to play in a $3 entry fee tournament. First prize was like $40. (hey it was 1989 and I was a broke as a joke student). So there I am drinking soda and beating these regulars, many of whom are not happy. One guy in particular starts really mouthing off and eventually he decides he's had enough and walks over to where I am sitting down waiting for the winner of a table. I didn't see him coming but I was later told he had picked up a cue and was holding it butt up in his two hands. Not good. Anyways, before he gets to me the owner of the bar and two other guys have him on the ground and I turn around to see this scuffle. They are like 10 feet from me. I think I was pretty close to getting KTFO from behind.
The owner, as it turns out, really liked tournament pool and had watched me play alot in the pool halls of gainesville. He knew I was a ringer in this small bar tourny but he was ok with me winning that day. He did tell me later that he thought it was a good idea if I not play there too much unless I wanted to first start hanging out and drinking a few rounds of beer with the regulars.
ShootingArts said:
I remember some of the fighting techniques when your M-16 jams; the Slash and at least three butt strokes: the vertical butt stroke, the horizontal butt stroke and the smash.
I guess the smash is closest to your technique, "the gag". I'm not sure if I would want to risk the finger.
JoeyA
I was up at the lake one weekend working on my house and decided to go into town and play in a local tournament. I ended up winning this one, so a guy comes up to me and says, "hey,you ought to go up to New London this weekend, they have a big tournament up there Friday night".
So I decided to go. Friday night, I pull into this tavern. My Jeep had trouble going into reverse when cold, so I backed into the parking space. (for a fast getaway if needed). I paid my entry and waited around for my name to be called. Noticing several "good ol' boys" and some of the ways they were acting kind of scared me. Then I noticed that when the tournament director got up to approach the table, he had a gun sticking out of his back pocket. This was my ticket. I was going to stay close to him.
While I was sitting next to him, I remarked that I just noticed a girl going into the mens restroom. All of a sudden, this girl drags this guy out of the john and starts beating the $hi!! out of him right there on the floor. After they broke it up, the owner tells me that she is the girlfriend/bartender and this guy was cheating on her. Now I am really glad I am sitting next to this guy.
Night goes on and it is the finals of me against this other guy. I really do not know if I want to win or not; thinking about broken thumbs and that sort of thing. Finally, this guy misses a real easy shot and I win the game. I shake his hand and went to get my money. All of a sudden, chairs start flying and people are screaming. I turn around and see this guy fall backwards and the back of his head hit the concrete floor. I will never forget that sound. Sounds like when you thump a watermelon, but, a lot louder.
Now I want to get out of there. I go outside for my car and the whole entire parking lot is full. There is about five rows of cars between me and the road. I am in the front row, totally blocked in...
SO MUCH FOR THE FAST GETAWAY. LOL. I just sat in the car, locked the doors and waited for the police to finish evacuating the place. Took about an hour for them to clear it out. Guess the fight took their thoughts away from me winning.
So I decided to go. Friday night, I pull into this tavern. My Jeep had trouble going into reverse when cold, so I backed into the parking space. (for a fast getaway if needed). I paid my entry and waited around for my name to be called. Noticing several "good ol' boys" and some of the ways they were acting kind of scared me. Then I noticed that when the tournament director got up to approach the table, he had a gun sticking out of his back pocket. This was my ticket. I was going to stay close to him.
While I was sitting next to him, I remarked that I just noticed a girl going into the mens restroom. All of a sudden, this girl drags this guy out of the john and starts beating the $hi!! out of him right there on the floor. After they broke it up, the owner tells me that she is the girlfriend/bartender and this guy was cheating on her. Now I am really glad I am sitting next to this guy.
Night goes on and it is the finals of me against this other guy. I really do not know if I want to win or not; thinking about broken thumbs and that sort of thing. Finally, this guy misses a real easy shot and I win the game. I shake his hand and went to get my money. All of a sudden, chairs start flying and people are screaming. I turn around and see this guy fall backwards and the back of his head hit the concrete floor. I will never forget that sound. Sounds like when you thump a watermelon, but, a lot louder.
Now I want to get out of there. I go outside for my car and the whole entire parking lot is full. There is about five rows of cars between me and the road. I am in the front row, totally blocked in...
SO MUCH FOR THE FAST GETAWAY. LOL. I just sat in the car, locked the doors and waited for the police to finish evacuating the place. Took about an hour for them to clear it out. Guess the fight took their thoughts away from me winning.
klockdoc said:I was up at the lake one weekend working on my house and decided to go into town and play in a local tournament. I ended up winning this one, so a guy comes up to me and says, "hey,you ought to go up to New London this weekend, they have a big tournament up there Friday night".
So I decided to go. Friday night, I pull into this tavern. My Jeep had trouble going into reverse when cold, so I backed into the parking space. (for a fast getaway if needed). I paid my entry and waited around for my name to be called. Noticing several "good ol' boys" and some of the ways they were acting kind of scared me. Then I noticed that when the tournament director got up to approach the table, he had a gun sticking out of his back pocket. This was my ticket. I was going to stay close to him.
While I was sitting next to him, I remarked that I just noticed a girl going into the mens restroom. All of a sudden, this girl drags this guy out of the john and starts beating the $hi!! out of him right there on the floor. After they broke it up, the owner tells me that she is the girlfriend/bartender and this guy was cheating on her. Now I am really glad I am sitting next to this guy.
Night goes on and it is the finals of me against this other guy. I really do not know if I want to win or not; thinking about broken thumbs and that sort of thing. Finally, this guy misses a real easy shot and I win the game. I shake his hand and went to get my money. All of a sudden, chairs start flying and people are screaming. I turn around and see this guy fall backwards and the back of his head hit the concrete floor. I will never forget that sound. Sounds like when you thump a watermelon, but, a lot louder.
Now I want to get out of there. I go outside for my car and the whole entire parking lot is full. There is about five rows of cars between me and the road. I am in the front row, totally blocked in...
But did you get the money?
And BigVic, with a name like that, you have to have some Little Napoleon stories to tell.
JoeyA
Tussle
This wasn't even over any money. After league one night we were playing at our home bar. Some younger guys came in drunk and acting stupid. It was me, my buddy, and his dad. Well one of the younger guys was a pretty good sized kid and he put up some quarters. My buddies dad plays and beats him, for free mind you. This kid (poor sport) starts bumping chests all in the face of my buddies dad, who is too old for that crap. Me and my buddy hop up ready to rock and his dad says let's just get out of here. Okay, we all rode together. We pull up to my buddies dad's house and let him out. I thought my buddy was going to drop me off. Nope, right back up to the pub. That big mouthy guy and one of his buddies is out in the parking lot talking on the phone. My buddy hops out of the truck and the guy starts running his mouth again. My buddy hit him so hard he actually skidded across the concrete. The guys buddy started yelling...too late my buddy parked him too. He went flying. They were both flopping around on the ground like fish, but something was wierd. I looked to where the 2nd guy was standing and his leg was still there, sneeker and all. I was like, what the hell. Turns out the 2nd guy had a prosthetic leg. My buddy felt kind of bad after that but oh well, it was a done deal.
This wasn't even over any money. After league one night we were playing at our home bar. Some younger guys came in drunk and acting stupid. It was me, my buddy, and his dad. Well one of the younger guys was a pretty good sized kid and he put up some quarters. My buddies dad plays and beats him, for free mind you. This kid (poor sport) starts bumping chests all in the face of my buddies dad, who is too old for that crap. Me and my buddy hop up ready to rock and his dad says let's just get out of here. Okay, we all rode together. We pull up to my buddies dad's house and let him out. I thought my buddy was going to drop me off. Nope, right back up to the pub. That big mouthy guy and one of his buddies is out in the parking lot talking on the phone. My buddy hops out of the truck and the guy starts running his mouth again. My buddy hit him so hard he actually skidded across the concrete. The guys buddy started yelling...too late my buddy parked him too. He went flying. They were both flopping around on the ground like fish, but something was wierd. I looked to where the 2nd guy was standing and his leg was still there, sneeker and all. I was like, what the hell. Turns out the 2nd guy had a prosthetic leg. My buddy felt kind of bad after that but oh well, it was a done deal.
Ending
The bartender watched it on video with the owner over and over. She said it was hysterical. I tried to get it but she said the owner trashed it for legal reasons. I bet it was crazy to watch from a birdseye view.md5key said:Best ending ever!
I have a story about "almost" a fight. Me and a friend were going around one evening from our regular pool hall to one in Boston, about 25 miles away. We stopped by a Mexican restaurant on the way for dinner. Well the place had a bar table there with some loud drunk guys playing. Big loud drunk guys. Several of them. Drunk and loud. You get the point.
One of them was barly able to put the stick on the table to shoot and is talking about how he is sick of beating up on the others and he needs a real game. Notes me and my friend and starts talking at us. Not to us, no he's to drunk for that, he's kinda ambling around grabbing at random invisible objects and saying how he wants to gamble, play for 100$ a game. He took a 100 out of his pocket and places it on the rail of the table. Me and my friend are there starring at him, both thinking the same thing: "we can beat him without half trying and get some cash" but also "once we get the cash, there are several very large and drunk guys (see above) that may make leaving with said cash a bit hard." Although he was saying how the 100 meant nothing to him, he got a bit upset when it fell of the rail and he could not find it for a second.
We drove into Boston and ended up losing about $50 between us that night to some better, but safer players.
One of them was barly able to put the stick on the table to shoot and is talking about how he is sick of beating up on the others and he needs a real game. Notes me and my friend and starts talking at us. Not to us, no he's to drunk for that, he's kinda ambling around grabbing at random invisible objects and saying how he wants to gamble, play for 100$ a game. He took a 100 out of his pocket and places it on the rail of the table. Me and my friend are there starring at him, both thinking the same thing: "we can beat him without half trying and get some cash" but also "once we get the cash, there are several very large and drunk guys (see above) that may make leaving with said cash a bit hard." Although he was saying how the 100 meant nothing to him, he got a bit upset when it fell of the rail and he could not find it for a second.
We drove into Boston and ended up losing about $50 between us that night to some better, but safer players.
I'm going to combine two of my stories....
The first one happened about 13 years ago in a pool hall slash club in San Bernardino Ca, They had three levels. On the first level they had some pool tables and then most of the pool tables were on the second level and then they had a dance floor on the upper level. I was on the second floor and some guys were polaying next to me and they asked if I wnated to play their friend. I said ok and we played basically a race to 6 for 100.
I beat him pretty bad and he was drunk and said he wasn't going to pay me.
I said" ok and broke down my cue and walked out" well apparently this guy just wanted to fight because he follows me out to the parking lot and taps me on the shoulder. This guy is totally plastered and completely telegraphed his punch. I ducked and gave him like four or five quick uppercuts to the gut, he falls over and starts retching and I look down at my hand and notice blood driupping down. Then I look at the guys belt and see that he has a leather knife sheath that has half inch studs ringing it and I had happened to punch him right on the knife sheath without realizing it.
I still have like twenty scars on my right hand from that altercation.
The other story didn't amount to much. I was playing in a Sunday eightball tournament and an acquantaince came in in between one of my matches and asked if I wanted to play twenty dollar a game eightball. I said sure and beat him. Well it turned out that he didn't have any money on him and he said he wasn't going to pay me because we didn't shake on it. This guy was a gun runner who would get guns up in Washington state and sell them to the gang bangers in San Bernardino. He was about 6'5" tall and weighed about 280lbs.
Well I let it go and started practicing a trick shot where I throw the cueball against the rail, throw the cue behind my back and hit the CB five or six rails to make a ball sitting in the corner. He said that he bet I couldn't make it and we bet ten dollars on it. I got ten tries and miscues didn't count. On the fifth try I came a fraction of an inch from making and we bumped the bet another five dollars.
Onb the tenth try I came really close but didn't make it. He says ok pay me the fifteen bucks, and I replied" Pay me the twenty you owe me and I'll pay you the fifteen I owe you.
He then say that it's ****ed up that I don't pay my bets and I reply that I wasn't the one not paying my debts, that he was. He says at quarter to five if I haven't paid he was going to collect.
Knowing what he did for a living I went up to him and siad, "Rich, if you shoot me, you better hope to God that you kill me, cause if you don't I'll come back and I will kill you" (I was crazy when I was younger).
He replied that he wasn't going to shoot me but that I better hope that I was as much of a badass as I portrayed myself (again, I was crazy when I was younger). I said " Rich, I never said that I was a badass" ( I was training for the UFC at the time and this was when the UFC was still a free for all)
So at about twenty till five, our mutual friend Josh who was always playing mediator between us pulls up on his motorcycle and I said"**** this let's go right now".
Scott, the owner of the poolhall says"Take it out back, take it out back"
We make it about half way around the back and this weird feeling of tranquility come over me. I can't explain it, it's kind of like being in the zone when playing pool onlt a little different, and I realized that we shouldn't be fighting. I tell him" Rich, we don't have to do this" and the punk has the balls to say to me that it's a matter of principle now.
I'm thinking ok dude and he reaches out with one hand toward my shoulder and leans up and swings at me. I ducked under it and came back up, he does it agaiin and I duck again. He did it a third time and I ducked again. I pulled my pans up a little just above the knees to free up my feet to kick and he says" Go ahead and kick at me and I'll hit you in the balls, then he tries to kick me in the balls, but the owners brother comes from behind Rich and grabs him and pulls him back. That was it, he aws banned from the poolhall and that was the end of the story.
I had some kids come up to me afterward and say that that was the only fight they had ever seen that looked like something out of a movie, (I think they meant that actually had some form to it) and I started giving those kids some private lessons in martial arts after that until I accidentally punched one in the nose because they were showing me off to another friend of theirs and decided to three team me and I reacted and punched backwards at the person I couldn't see and slammed him in the nose without thinking about it. I decided it would be better if I didn't give them lessons after that.
Jaden.
p.s. I had another story about a fight at a poolhall but it wasn't over a game it was about parking outside.
The first one happened about 13 years ago in a pool hall slash club in San Bernardino Ca, They had three levels. On the first level they had some pool tables and then most of the pool tables were on the second level and then they had a dance floor on the upper level. I was on the second floor and some guys were polaying next to me and they asked if I wnated to play their friend. I said ok and we played basically a race to 6 for 100.
I beat him pretty bad and he was drunk and said he wasn't going to pay me.
I said" ok and broke down my cue and walked out" well apparently this guy just wanted to fight because he follows me out to the parking lot and taps me on the shoulder. This guy is totally plastered and completely telegraphed his punch. I ducked and gave him like four or five quick uppercuts to the gut, he falls over and starts retching and I look down at my hand and notice blood driupping down. Then I look at the guys belt and see that he has a leather knife sheath that has half inch studs ringing it and I had happened to punch him right on the knife sheath without realizing it.
I still have like twenty scars on my right hand from that altercation.
The other story didn't amount to much. I was playing in a Sunday eightball tournament and an acquantaince came in in between one of my matches and asked if I wanted to play twenty dollar a game eightball. I said sure and beat him. Well it turned out that he didn't have any money on him and he said he wasn't going to pay me because we didn't shake on it. This guy was a gun runner who would get guns up in Washington state and sell them to the gang bangers in San Bernardino. He was about 6'5" tall and weighed about 280lbs.
Well I let it go and started practicing a trick shot where I throw the cueball against the rail, throw the cue behind my back and hit the CB five or six rails to make a ball sitting in the corner. He said that he bet I couldn't make it and we bet ten dollars on it. I got ten tries and miscues didn't count. On the fifth try I came a fraction of an inch from making and we bumped the bet another five dollars.
Onb the tenth try I came really close but didn't make it. He says ok pay me the fifteen bucks, and I replied" Pay me the twenty you owe me and I'll pay you the fifteen I owe you.
He then say that it's ****ed up that I don't pay my bets and I reply that I wasn't the one not paying my debts, that he was. He says at quarter to five if I haven't paid he was going to collect.
Knowing what he did for a living I went up to him and siad, "Rich, if you shoot me, you better hope to God that you kill me, cause if you don't I'll come back and I will kill you" (I was crazy when I was younger).
He replied that he wasn't going to shoot me but that I better hope that I was as much of a badass as I portrayed myself (again, I was crazy when I was younger). I said " Rich, I never said that I was a badass" ( I was training for the UFC at the time and this was when the UFC was still a free for all)
So at about twenty till five, our mutual friend Josh who was always playing mediator between us pulls up on his motorcycle and I said"**** this let's go right now".
Scott, the owner of the poolhall says"Take it out back, take it out back"
We make it about half way around the back and this weird feeling of tranquility come over me. I can't explain it, it's kind of like being in the zone when playing pool onlt a little different, and I realized that we shouldn't be fighting. I tell him" Rich, we don't have to do this" and the punk has the balls to say to me that it's a matter of principle now.
I'm thinking ok dude and he reaches out with one hand toward my shoulder and leans up and swings at me. I ducked under it and came back up, he does it agaiin and I duck again. He did it a third time and I ducked again. I pulled my pans up a little just above the knees to free up my feet to kick and he says" Go ahead and kick at me and I'll hit you in the balls, then he tries to kick me in the balls, but the owners brother comes from behind Rich and grabs him and pulls him back. That was it, he aws banned from the poolhall and that was the end of the story.
I had some kids come up to me afterward and say that that was the only fight they had ever seen that looked like something out of a movie, (I think they meant that actually had some form to it) and I started giving those kids some private lessons in martial arts after that until I accidentally punched one in the nose because they were showing me off to another friend of theirs and decided to three team me and I reacted and punched backwards at the person I couldn't see and slammed him in the nose without thinking about it. I decided it would be better if I didn't give them lessons after that.
Jaden.
p.s. I had another story about a fight at a poolhall but it wasn't over a game it was about parking outside.
just a funny woofing story
I was in Greenway many moons ago. This was when Greenway was Greenway but I low profiled there for reasons of my own and just went there to bang balls with friends or dates. Yep, Greenway was nice enough to bring a young lady that shot pool into once upon a time.
Anyway I am in there with a friend who was a very good looking blond. Hair halfway down her back, built right, pretty face. Obviously I had other things on my mind than gambling but it was a slow night and this whiz kid with a smart mouth from out of town decided he would entertain the railbirds at the bar and started barking at me. He'd bark, they'd laugh, I'd ignore it or at least pretend to. This went on for about ten minutes with the barking getting more outrageous all the time, it could have went on for hours without getting a reaction from me though, this wasn't my first rodeo.
Well then the kid did some barking involving the young lady I was with. He discovered that a South Louisiana country boy can go from looking calm to redass in about .003 seconds, slam a stick down and cross Greenway in a couple more seconds. I demanded an apology to the lady and he just sat there with a $hit eating grin. He had a nice set of pearly whites and I was just fixing to see how many I could take out when one of the few people I liked and respected in Greenway stepped between me and the traveler.
I passed back by the next night by myself with unsettled business on my mind but the out of towner wasn't there. I tried to get them to give him a call for any of the games he had been barking about, no luck. I showed up several more times and flashed a few dimes trying to get him to come play. After some of the claims the folks in Greenway had made about him I sincerely wanted to play him and I figured lightening his pocket a few nickels or dimes would be punishment enough. I made three or four more trips through and they called him a few times but he wasn't having any. I don't think it was because of my pool game because I was way under the radar at the time especially at Greenway and we were both fearless on a table anyway. More likely it was because he had discovered I was sitting on spring loaded redass and upsetting me could be a bit risky.
Anyway, that is my story. One of the greatest road players of all time ducked me repeatedly! It sounds a lot better if I don't mention why.
Hu
I was in Greenway many moons ago. This was when Greenway was Greenway but I low profiled there for reasons of my own and just went there to bang balls with friends or dates. Yep, Greenway was nice enough to bring a young lady that shot pool into once upon a time.
Anyway I am in there with a friend who was a very good looking blond. Hair halfway down her back, built right, pretty face. Obviously I had other things on my mind than gambling but it was a slow night and this whiz kid with a smart mouth from out of town decided he would entertain the railbirds at the bar and started barking at me. He'd bark, they'd laugh, I'd ignore it or at least pretend to. This went on for about ten minutes with the barking getting more outrageous all the time, it could have went on for hours without getting a reaction from me though, this wasn't my first rodeo.
Well then the kid did some barking involving the young lady I was with. He discovered that a South Louisiana country boy can go from looking calm to redass in about .003 seconds, slam a stick down and cross Greenway in a couple more seconds. I demanded an apology to the lady and he just sat there with a $hit eating grin. He had a nice set of pearly whites and I was just fixing to see how many I could take out when one of the few people I liked and respected in Greenway stepped between me and the traveler.
I passed back by the next night by myself with unsettled business on my mind but the out of towner wasn't there. I tried to get them to give him a call for any of the games he had been barking about, no luck. I showed up several more times and flashed a few dimes trying to get him to come play. After some of the claims the folks in Greenway had made about him I sincerely wanted to play him and I figured lightening his pocket a few nickels or dimes would be punishment enough. I made three or four more trips through and they called him a few times but he wasn't having any. I don't think it was because of my pool game because I was way under the radar at the time especially at Greenway and we were both fearless on a table anyway. More likely it was because he had discovered I was sitting on spring loaded redass and upsetting me could be a bit risky.
Anyway, that is my story. One of the greatest road players of all time ducked me repeatedly! It sounds a lot better if I don't mention why.
Hu
Hu,
Who WAS it?!!?!?!?!?!!!!!????!?!!?!!!!??!
Russ
Who WAS it?!!?!?!?!?!!!!!????!?!!?!!!!??!
Russ
It was . . .
It was, well it was a long time ago! I can almost remember his name, it's on the tip of my tongue . . .
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Dang it, just can't make it to the keyboard though! Seriously, I don't name any of the known players that I ran into back then. When I met them it was always just a one night encounter and one night means little.
Hu
Russ Chewning said:Hu,
Who WAS it?!!?!?!?!?!!!!!????!?!!?!!!!??!
Russ
It was, well it was a long time ago! I can almost remember his name, it's on the tip of my tongue . . .
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Dang it, just can't make it to the keyboard though! Seriously, I don't name any of the known players that I ran into back then. When I met them it was always just a one night encounter and one night means little.
Hu
ShootingArts said:
FOUL!! FOUL!! Referee, please call a FOUL on dis guy!!!
Russ