I met Whitey in the summer of either 1964 or 1965 in Mergard's in Cincinnati. I would have been twenty years old at the time. He was kind enough to spend nearly the entire summer there.
On hustling: Mergard's had a bar, a very nice one. It was a classy place. Donny Anderson managed an attached night club. Joey Spaeth played there regularly. A rack man, named Baker, in a starched white coat cleaned the tables and clocked players in and out. I was once introduced to Leo Durocher in this room when the Dodgers were playing the Reds in the evening. He wore a suit. So did a lot of the players who hung out in the room, including the memorable Tom Smith, the octogenarian player. Clem Metz was sometimes seen in the room. Whitey appeared and sat at the bar for about four or five nights drinking beer. He never made a move towards the pool tables. After the last night, Whitey got down from his bar stool and went up to the worst player in the room who would make a wager and asked him if he would like to play some eight ball. He had "clocked" every player in the room and went right up the ladder from first worst to second worst to third worst and on up the scale.
On the dog: it seemed to be a nice animal. It was a German shepherd which behaved itself well. Some of the Mergard's guys used to give it treats.
On Whitey's style: The man was the first person I ever saw who was really obviously a master of the game. He bridged so close to the cue ball that the edge of the cue ball was almost within the extension of his fingers. He gave an exhibition at a different establishment. At the end he played some trick shots. I said to him that the word was that he could run the numbered balls on a snooker table in sequence without touching a rail. I asked him to do it. He said that he wasn't sure he could because it was actually easier to do on a snooker table than on a pool table! Then he set up the balls on a pool table and did it twice. (Getting to the seven ball near the bottom rail without touching it is the tricky part!)
On the bite, advanced: Whitey had a Svengali or Rasputin effect upon some young people. There was a young man (not myself) who fell under this spell, and the young man came from a rather good family. (As I say, Mergard's was no dump.) Whitey drove a jalopy of a car. One day it appeared with a brand new set of tires on it. The story in the room was that this kid had invited Whitey out to his family's home and that when the boy's father had seen the worn out tires on Whitey's car he was horrified that his precious son was riding around in a car that was so unsafe. The father called a tire store and told them that a man would be bringing a car in for a new set of tires and they should just ring them up on his (the father's) account. I don't know whether this is true, but it was the report.
On the bite, inoculaton. After Whitey had been in town about three weeks, an older player named Garland Hutchison walked in. He had been out of town. He came over to me and said, "Do you know this guy they call 'Whitey?'" I said I did. He told me to point him out. As soon as I showed Garland who was Whitey, Garland walked up to Whitey, greeted him by name, and pressed a five dollar bill into his hand, which Whitey took without any question or hesitation. Garland then walked back to me and said, "Now he can't borrow any more money from me until he pays that back. That's how you get off easy."
On hustling: Mergard's had a bar, a very nice one. It was a classy place. Donny Anderson managed an attached night club. Joey Spaeth played there regularly. A rack man, named Baker, in a starched white coat cleaned the tables and clocked players in and out. I was once introduced to Leo Durocher in this room when the Dodgers were playing the Reds in the evening. He wore a suit. So did a lot of the players who hung out in the room, including the memorable Tom Smith, the octogenarian player. Clem Metz was sometimes seen in the room. Whitey appeared and sat at the bar for about four or five nights drinking beer. He never made a move towards the pool tables. After the last night, Whitey got down from his bar stool and went up to the worst player in the room who would make a wager and asked him if he would like to play some eight ball. He had "clocked" every player in the room and went right up the ladder from first worst to second worst to third worst and on up the scale.
On the dog: it seemed to be a nice animal. It was a German shepherd which behaved itself well. Some of the Mergard's guys used to give it treats.
On Whitey's style: The man was the first person I ever saw who was really obviously a master of the game. He bridged so close to the cue ball that the edge of the cue ball was almost within the extension of his fingers. He gave an exhibition at a different establishment. At the end he played some trick shots. I said to him that the word was that he could run the numbered balls on a snooker table in sequence without touching a rail. I asked him to do it. He said that he wasn't sure he could because it was actually easier to do on a snooker table than on a pool table! Then he set up the balls on a pool table and did it twice. (Getting to the seven ball near the bottom rail without touching it is the tricky part!)
On the bite, advanced: Whitey had a Svengali or Rasputin effect upon some young people. There was a young man (not myself) who fell under this spell, and the young man came from a rather good family. (As I say, Mergard's was no dump.) Whitey drove a jalopy of a car. One day it appeared with a brand new set of tires on it. The story in the room was that this kid had invited Whitey out to his family's home and that when the boy's father had seen the worn out tires on Whitey's car he was horrified that his precious son was riding around in a car that was so unsafe. The father called a tire store and told them that a man would be bringing a car in for a new set of tires and they should just ring them up on his (the father's) account. I don't know whether this is true, but it was the report.
On the bite, inoculaton. After Whitey had been in town about three weeks, an older player named Garland Hutchison walked in. He had been out of town. He came over to me and said, "Do you know this guy they call 'Whitey?'" I said I did. He told me to point him out. As soon as I showed Garland who was Whitey, Garland walked up to Whitey, greeted him by name, and pressed a five dollar bill into his hand, which Whitey took without any question or hesitation. Garland then walked back to me and said, "Now he can't borrow any more money from me until he pays that back. That's how you get off easy."
Last edited:
..In fact, I saw them a few yrs. ago, (along with you) when I was up in Vegas with Alfie ! 
