I loved the DCC when it was at the Old Executive West. We actually had rocking chairs in our rooms, a real country feel to the place. Everybody complained about the one-and-only restaurant there, but I did not find it so bad.
I shared many a rail-side chats with the likes of Earl, Jimmy Reid, Grady Mathews, Greg Sullivan, Billy Incardona, Marcus Chamat, Alex Pagulayan, Kid Delicious. Tony Chohan, and the list goes on and on and on. Man, we sure did have a lot of pro-caliber pool players in the aughts. The bummer about the event itself, at least for me, was the buybacks and never knowing what time your match was going to be, which always seemed to be changed at the last minute to a new time, causing forfeits galore.
The Derby City Classic, however, is a pool player's mecca and offers something one cannot get at any other pool event in the USA. In fact, many fly in from Europe, Philippines, and elsewhere to enjoy the festivities on and off the table. This is pool American style and cannot be experienced anywhere else in the world. Greg Sullivan is to be commended for keeping the Derby going strong. He has faced some hurdles and stop signs over the years, but they did not stop him.
The drive to Louisville from DC through the mountains of West Virginia and the hills of Kentucky was challenging in the winter with icy roads, but the it was worth it. It used to take me a week or more to recover after a week at the Derby because, quite frankly, we got little sleep, very little sleep. I remember asking Truman Hogue and his wife out in the hallway their thoughts about the lack of sleep and nonstop action, and they both in unison said, "We love it."
One year, both my other half and me got the flu as soon as we arrived in Louisville, and it had a domino effect. Everybody got sick. It's an occupational hazard, I think, when everything is under one roof. It still happens today at some pool venues the spread of colds, the flu, and the other C word that I won't mention for fear of starting a political debate.
Here's a few pics I've taken during my visit at the Old Executive West in Louisville.
Our room key and Keith's player pass.
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Berle Gabbard, Billy Jo Burge aka "Cornbread Red," and "Tuscaloosa Squirrel" (Marshall Carpenter)
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Scott Frost, Tony Chohan, Keith McCready, and Marcus Chamat. Tony was selling those athletic suits that Scott was wearing that year. Everybody has a bankroll except, well, Keith in this photo. Bites allowed.
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From left to right, Harry Platis's friend who sold gold, Keith McCready, Harry Platis, John Mataya (Jimmy's brother), Ronnie Allen, and Jimmy Reid.
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I asked Larry Nevel if I could take his photo with this cool tiger shirt, and he graciously agreed. Larry was kind of an unassuming-type persona, never loud or boisterous. He used to listen to audio books when he was on the road in his car. A strong player who is missed today by all who knew him.
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Keith McCready and Erman Bullard.
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Barkfest right before Keith played Alex Pagulayan on the barbox with the big cue ball, Keith getting spotted the last 2, subject to check
The barkfest lasted 2 or 3 hours. The match lasted10 minutes. You can see Amar Kang on the far left. He was yelling out, "I'll play anybody 9-ball even. Anybody!" Keith had to play a live stream match in one hour with no sleep against Grady Mathews. Grady won. Oh, what a night!
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We hung out with Jimmy Reid a lot. He and Keith were really good buddies. I miss Jimmy, and man, he could talk a good yarn. Loved hearing his stories.
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Photo of me and Keith McCready in the lobby of Old Executive West, both sick with the flu.
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