Great Pool Room Stories

jay helfert said:
Launce Saunders was hot shit around Ventura, CA in the late 1960's before moving to the Montana area.
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I think it's the same guy but he played around in local stuff (Iowa) here a few years ago, but I hear he moved out west again. I always saw him using a stick that was probably 70" or more. It was a bit warped but his brother made if for him years ago. The guy can flat out shoot from what I saw. He's well past his prime but he's still a threat. I'd never met him but he took one of my best friends under his wing probably 30 years ago before I knew him. That friend is a great player, I think Lance taught him well.

Anyway, I had stepped outside to the smoking area since the small bar hosting the tournament had 3 tables, and was just packed to the rafters. It was a 2 or 3 day event, I think 64 man with added money. It was an open but I don't remember the specifics. Lance was out there too and we talked a little normal chit chat small talk, he seemed like a really good dude. Well anyway here comes one of the hot shot players from one of the bigger cities. Either Des Moines, Davenport, etc. An out of town-er ready to win the thing. The guy was young, probably mid 20s and IMO just a cocky shithead. Lance was wearing bibs that day and the kid started clowning on him saying he'd bet pink slips on tractors or something. You know, pool player banter and talking shit type stuff. The kid was really ribbing him trying to get action.

Lance never lost his cool or even appeared bothered by the kid. I have no idea how well they knew each other but the kid was barking all the while Lance was just trying to enjoy the weather. They talked a bit about action and such, the kid flashed a roll, but nothing ever came of it.

I got a real chuckle though. Lance talked to the kid and told him he was a good player, talked about what he was good at and such. He said something along the lines of "I'll give you this, you're a good player but you'll never be great unless you learn to be humble." "You gotta get your ego under control." I'm paraphrasing but oh man it was good. Lance was telling the kid the truth and at first the kid acted even more cocky but I think he realized he had been given some good advice.

I kind of wish I had talked with him more but he was in tournament mode and I didn't want to be a nuisance.
 
Thanks for story Boogieman that sounds about right for Lance when I first saw him,he was wearing some baggy pants that could've been silk but I didn't care enough to ask to find out .

As for Lance as a money player and going back to the time frame that Jay mentioned I believe he got some action going with a fella I've never seen before or since if memory serves me right he called himself Mexican Joe and they played a race to 11 for a $ 1.000.00 then,may of bumped it up from there ?

The cue Lance used had about the smallest ferrel and tip I've ever seen played with on anything but a snooker table , he had a neck of a stroke and was dangerous to play against on either a bar table or a 4 1/2 x 9 .
He had it and a few shafts wrapped in a towel for a case , I kept my Billybushka in some 2" pvc pipe which its still in to this day !

Billy his big brother offered to take me out on the road with him because I missed when it counted and ran out the table when it counted which was basically what he taught me to do back then , sadly I didn't take him up,on the offer but have often wondered what it would've been like if I had .
After that someone asked Lance if there was anyone who really challenged him that was in the tournament and I heard later he pointed at me ha ha Which was a big compliment in my book .

If anyone knows how to get a hold of Lance please let me know !
Thanks,in advance !
Rusty
 
boogieman said:
I think it's the same guy but he played around in local stuff (Iowa) here a few years ago, but I hear he moved out west again. I always saw him using a stick that was probably 70" or more. It was a bit warped but his brother made if for him years ago. The guy can flat out shoot from what I saw. He's well past his prime but he's still a threat. I'd never met him but he took one of my best friends under his wing probably 30 years ago before I knew him. That friend is a great player, I think Lance taught him well.

Anyway, I had stepped outside to the smoking area since the small bar hosting the tournament had 3 tables, and was just packed to the rafters. It was a 2 or 3 day event, I think 64 man with added money. It was an open but I don't remember the specifics. Lance was out there too and we talked a little normal chit chat small talk, he seemed like a really good dude. Well anyway here comes one of the hot shot players from one of the bigger cities. Either Des Moines, Davenport, etc. An out of town-er ready to win the thing. The guy was young, probably mid 20s and IMO just a cocky shithead. Lance was wearing bibs that day and the kid started clowning on him saying he'd bet pink slips on tractors or something. You know, pool player banter and talking shit type stuff. The kid was really ribbing him trying to get action.

Lance never lost his cool or even appeared bothered by the kid. I have no idea how well they knew each other but the kid was barking all the while Lance was just trying to enjoy the weather. They talked a bit about action and such, the kid flashed a roll, but nothing ever came of it.

I got a real chuckle though. Lance talked to the kid and told him he was a good player, talked about what he was good at and such. He said something along the lines of "I'll give you this, you're a good player but you'll never be great unless you learn to be humble." "You gotta get your ego under control." I'm paraphrasing but oh man it was good. Lance was telling the kid the truth and at first the kid acted even more cocky but I think he realized he had been given some good advice.

I kind of wish I had talked with him more but he was in tournament mode and I didn't want to be a nuisance.
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"Go away kid, ya bother me."
 
So glad these threads pop up. Some of these stories are as old as my parents lol.🫣

I've got 1 from a bar in northern MN (2010ish):

I was 19, I think. Up in Pine City with my old man for fishing opener, which naturally involved more drinking than fishing. We'd troll the bars for pool and pull tabs. Guys were elated they had a DD so I didn't need to pay for anything. At one point we were at this dive in the middle of nowhere with 2-3 Valleys, a DJ, and no bouncer. It was busy.
This dude is walking around with his buddies and 2/3 of a beer for like half an hour trying to get some action. I was...not comfortable with the whole thing, was just really sketchy. One of dad's buds finally talked me into playing $20 games with this loser. We alternated the first 4 games (I was nervous as shit), then I finally relaxed and beat the brakes off the guy. The more I won the more mad he got. I was trying to get out of it, but Vern kept throwing cash on the table. I think I was up $220-240 at the end. Total banger that thought he was good because he could make 3 balls in a row.
Fortunately, a brawl broke out on the dance floor (over a lady, I'm sure) and we bailed before anyone in our group got involved. Still one of the funniest things I've ever seen at a bar: one of the bartenders grabbed a mic and said she was calling the cops and this scrawny kid in a white tank-top HAULED ASS out the back door, climbing over other people and everything. Could barely breathe walking out the door I was laughing so hard.
 
I was on the road to San Fran with my buddy when he blew the bankroll totaling $70 circa 1968. We hand $11.50 to get back to LA. Plenty of money with gas 23 cents/gal and Mc Donalds 15 cents a hamburger and most importantly cigs 22 cents/pack. We stopped at the old Circus Room in San Jose and I couldn't even get all the way in the door when another young guy asked me to play $1/game six ball. I say I'll play some for 50 cents/game and ten hours later after playing him and two others we left with almost $450. That roadie ended up with us winning somewhere around $1500. I made 3 advance car payments and 4 months advance rent payments. It was like an amazing sequence of events even today that remains one of my favorite stories.
 
Baby Huey said:
I was on the road to San Fran with my buddy when he blew the bankroll totaling $70 circa 1968. We hand $11.50 to get back to LA. Plenty of money with gas 23 cents/gal and Mc Donalds 15 cents a hamburger and most importantly cigs 22 cents/pack. We stopped at the old Circus Room in San Jose and I couldn't even get all the way in the door when another young guy asked me to play $1/game six ball. I say I'll play some for 50 cents/game and ten hours later after playing him and two others we left with almost $450. That roadie ended up with us winning somewhere around $1500. I made 3 advance car payments and 4 months advance rent payments. It was like an amazing sequence of events even today that remains one of my favorite stories.
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Great Story!

I had similar happen. I was low on funds to put it mildly and bills had to be paid in about three weeks. I had perfect credit and meant to keep it that way. Packed my bags, rounded up my road partner, planned a couple week trip. Stopped at a place my partner knew was good for small action to pump up a bit before letting the ponies run. My truck with a warmed over 454 would outrun anything but Motorola but it wasn't easy on gas. With spare tank it toted almost fifty gallons of premium gasoline, and needed it all!

Anyway, this first stop was mainly to feed that 454 and have a little gambling money. Fourteen hours or so later the road trip was over. Had the mortgages covered and some party money after one stop! Even had a couple girls. Never had an easier, or shorter road trip. Can you call less than fifty miles a road trip? I had planned to go from the Mississippi River to maybe the east coast, turn down into Florida and kinda follow the gulf coast back to the Mississippi and home. I usually traveled in loops.

Hu
 
Here is an old story I posted a long time ago.

There are some good stories in that thread.

HawaiianEye

Post in thread 'Win yourself one of my great hitting cues'

Dean,

Here's a story for you and you may even know the guy.

I met an amazing road player back around 1970 when I was about 16 yeas old and was working in a pool hall.

I was working in a place called the Sportsman's Club in the bootheel of Missouri and this unknown guy shows up one day. He had dark hair and he was wearing one of those short-brimmed kind of fishing hats, a white t-shirt, double-knit golf-looking pants, and slip-on canvas deck shoes.

The reason I remember what he was wearing so well was because he looked so out-of-place and he stood out immediately. Most of the pool...
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First time I watched a regional tournament was at the hall I worked at. Had a lot of good old locals there. JR Gay, Frank Zummo, Tulio Antonelli, Tommy Harwood, Cary Cook etc. I figured that JR was taking it. The youngest person there was around my age and I'd never seen him before.

This kid tore through the field and won it all. None of us knew who he was because he was from southern Ohio. That kid was Troy Frank and he blistered the field
 
Here's kind of a funny one from about 25 years ago. I used to hang out at this beautiful room in Statesville, NC. It was in a historic building with 30' ceilings, chandeliers, copper ceilings etc. Absolutely beautiful building.

It had a main floor with around 12 tables, a balcony on the second floor with one main table and a third floor that was a club.

As nice as this building was it was also in a very rough neighborhood at the time and they didn't mess around if you were asked to leave.

So a couple of my buddies wanted to go there and drink. I show them the way and we get there. As soon as we parked I told them not to fuck around in here. If you get thrown out, it is literal. They all kind of chuckled like I was full of shit until we opened the front door.

As soon as we opened the door they tossed someone out of the club on the third floor and he tumbled down three flights of stairs. I just looked at my buddies in semi shock and said don't fuck around in here.

Edit: Before anyone asks this was Broad St Billiards. When I originally went there it was owned by an old farmer. Word was that he covered his business of dropping off product with his plane with his business of having a pool hall.
 
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Here's another that goes along with me hanging around in rough places. On Saturdays on go in and play early for about five hours so as not to make the wife mad.

While I was at the bar eating I was talking with the bouncer, who was an absolute mountain of a human. He had just quit and said that someone was going to get shot up in here.

Next afternoon I walk in and two of the tables are cockeyed and one is covered in blood. Someone got shot in the parking lot that night and they laid him on the table to work on him.

Certainly not the first, but definitely the one that sticks out other than another involving my brother
 
How Good was Minnesota Fats?

Anyone that saw the videos when Fats played on TV would think that Fats couldn't play at all.

There is a YouTube video dated September 30, 2024 posted by Jim's Place Billiards where Nick Varner talks about playing Fats.

Nick says in the video that when he played Fats in the 1970s he could maybe give Fats a ball or two.

In the video Nick also tells John Schmidt that Fats beat Ronnie Allen, Ed Kelly and Richie Florence out of $100,000 trying to give Fats 9 to 8 playing One Pocket.

This is a link to the video.

 
he was an old man by the time most even got to see him. he played real well when young. and decent until he got too old.
when i knew him he still played runout pool on a bar table. and could bank balls better than all but a few pro bankers..

most players did not like him as he always had money, got great action, beat the best in games, drove new or newer caddy's
and was the center of attention wherever he went.
but they almost all would put the bite on him and not pay back, and he gave it to them knowing that.

i was jealous of him as well. but didn't want to be him.
 
This isn't really a "pool story", although pool rooms play a part in it. It's part of a series of reminiscences I've written for my wife and few close friends.

2. Brunswick Billiards (1419 Irving St. NW, Washington)

This upstairs room, with its featured 1920’s Brunswick 5’x10’ front table, was where I really started to become a pool addict. But before I get into some of the main people I knew there, a brief digression about the night of the King assassination:

On the evening of April 4, 1968, I was driving back to Brunswick Billiards after having dropped off one of the players at his girlfriend’s apartment, when I heard the news over the radio about the King assassination. I was beside myself with shock and grief, but decided that at a time like this, the pool room was where I should be.

Imagine my shock when I got there, and found roughly half the room sobbing or numb with sadness, while others were (and I’m not making this up) laughing at those of us who were mourning. One of my best friends, “Bird”, was so outraged at the ones who were laughing that I had to grab him and take him outside before he did something drastic.

We then took a walk up the street to Mt. Pleasant Street, where we stopped at a bar for a beer to cool off. But just when we were starting to absorb the moment, an old White guy started commenting that King had gotten “what he deserved”. So at that point I had to grab Bird again and get him out of yet another impossible situation. This time we just walked around the neighborhood before I dropped him off at his home.

The next day (Friday), of course, was when the shit really hit the fan, and when I was inching up 16th St. after having dropped my boss Izzy Stone off at National Airport, I could look down Irving St. and see the smoke rising up from 14th St. At that point I was freaked out at the thought of my borrowed $150 pool cue going up in flames, but as it turned out the pool room had been spared, though within a year it had closed its doors for good.

On Saturday I managed to get around the National Guardsmen stationed at the DC/Maryland line and went out to another pool room, the House of Lords in Wheaton Plaza. There I wound up playing one of the best players in Washington history, Steve Gumphrey, though I’d never seen him before and didn’t know until I’d lost twenty bucks at two dollars a pop just how good he was. That was the first and last time I ever visited that room, and like Brunswick Billiards, it didn’t last long after that.

But by Sunday I was getting restless, and so I drove back down to Irving St. to see who I could run into and to survey the wreckage on 14th St., which was in a complete state of ruin. Other than the Guardsmen, I was about the only White guy down there, but it was midday and I found some pool players to give me protection if I’d needed any.

And here’s where it got interesting. After about an hour or so, we ran into someone who was going to have a “fire sale” of sorts out in the Deanwood section of Northeast. So what the hell, I went along, and wound up buying a few fancy knit shirts for about five bucks apiece, probably taken on Friday from the National Shirt Shop or some other downtown haberdashery.

But if I ever needed a lesson in Crime Doesn’t Pay, I got it a few days later when I put one of those fancy knit shirts into the washing machine, and the green dye wound up bleeding all over every other goddamn bit of clothing. I guess it was what the hippies called karma.
 
This one is in Pool Wars but if you haven't read it I'll give you the short version. After laying around L.A. getting high and playing little pool for several months I got bored and went on a road trip north to Frisco. I'll skip the stops I made in Bakersfield (played Nate at the Cue Ball which I would buy a few years later) and in Fresno where I gambled all day at Blackstone Billiards, winning maybe $100! ;)

Finally I got to Frisco and after a 9-Ball fracas with Frisco Dave Piona (broke even) I headed to Berkeley where there were lots of rich college kids hanging out in the local poolroom (Kips). It was packed and I got a couple of cheap games like $5 9-Ball right away. Made some hotel and gas money and checked into a small hotel across the street from the Peoples Park. They called it that cause all the kids liked to hang out there and smoke weed. I got sick as a dog that night, maybe caught something from someone at the poolroom I don't know. So I slept all the next day and drank hot tea trying to fight it off. Early the following morning I wake up to hear all kinds of commotion going on outside. I drag myself to the bay window overlooking the park (I was on the second or third floor so I had a good view). The university had erected temporary fencing around the park and I was not aware they wanted to turn it into a parking lot. The kids were not having any of that and hundreds of them were banging on the mesh wire fence and trying to tear it down.

It was soon an out of control mob scene. There were maybe only a couple of dozen police and university security trying to stop them and they couldn't quell the disturbance. I watched the whole thing from the safety of my room. Soon more police came and then there were hundreds of cops from different jurisdictions surrounding the park fence and the battle became more intense. At least a thousand or more kids vs. a couple hundred baton wielding cops. I was an eye witness to what became known as the People's Park riot (look it up). This lasted for literally hours with kids getting beat up, with many being carried away, and injured cops retreating back behind their lines. It was totally out of control, covering a large area surrounding the entire park.

Then I began to hear gun shots. Only a few at first and I thought they were blanks. But they weren't. Kids got shot! And one kid (Steve Rector) got killed while throwing rocks at the cops from the roof of a house on the other side of the park. He was the only fatality as far as I know. But there had to be dozens of injured on both sides. Finally at nightfall the police had driven the kids back and the fence was pretty much all torn down. I never left my room all day, and by late at night I was hungry and decided to venture out. I walked towards Kips and on the main drag I saw police in riot gear marching down the street and shooting tear gas at any kids they saw outside. That included me! I hid until they had passed me by and went running towards Kips. Why I went there I couldn't tell you, other than I was a pool hall rat back then.

I made it to the entrance hall way at Kips before the riot police spotted me and one of two others entering the hallway. They lobbed tear gas canisters at us and we ran into Kips as fast as we could. Some of the gas got inside and everyone's eyes were watering and we were looking for water to wash them out. My eyes burned for a long time (over and hour I'm sure) and when I felt better I just wanted to get the hell out of there. It was late by now, after Midnight and it seemed quiet. I snuck outside and just wanted to make it the few blocks back to my hotel. I was triple careful when I realized cops were still patroling the streets. I ran from one place to another hiding every few yards to remain unseen. I saw the cops but they didn't see me.

At the hotel I packed my few things and waited until just before daylight to make my escape. My car was parked close by and I got in and drove out very carefully, looking in every direction until I got far away. Fuck pool, I was in survival mode.

I found out later hundreds of kids they caught went to jail and many served short terms like 15 or 30 days. A few of the instigators got longer terms, up to a year or more. I got lucky I guess. The only time I was ever tear gassed and it was no fun.
 
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jay helfert said:
This one is in Pool Wars but if you haven't read it I'll give you the short version. After laying around L.A. getting high and playing little pool for several months I got bored and went on a road trip north to Frisco. I'll skip the stops I made in Bakersfield (played Nate at the Cue Ball which I would buy a few years later) and in Fresno where I gambled all day at Blackstone Billiards, winning maybe $100! ;)

Finally I got to Frisco and after a 9-Ball fracas with Frisco Dave Piona (broke even) I headed to Berkeley where there were lots of rich college kids hanging out in the local poolroom (Kips). It was packed and I got a couple of cheap games like $5 9-Ball right away. Made some hotel and gas money and checked into a small hotel across the street from the Peoples Park. They called it that cause all the kids liked to hang out there and smoke weed. I got sick as a dog that night, maybe caught something from someone at the poolroom I don't know. So I slept all the next day and drank hot tea trying to fight it off. Early the following morning I wake up to hear all kinds of commotion going on outside. I drag myself to the bay window overlooking the park (I was on the second or third floor so I had a good view). The university had erected temporary fencing around the park and I was not aware they wanted to turn it into a parking lot. The kids were not having any of that and hundreds of them were banging on the mesh wire fence and trying to tear it down.

It was soon an out of control mob scene. There were maybe only a couple of dozen police and university security trying to stop them and they couldn't quell the disturbance. I watched the whole thing from the safety of my room. Soon more police came and then there were hundreds of cops from different jurisdictions surrounding the park fence and the battle became more intense. At least a thousand or more kids vs. a couple hundred baton wielding cops. I was an eye witness to what became known as the People's Park riot (look it up). This lasted for literally hours with kids getting beat up, with many being carried away, and injured cops retreating back behind their lines. It was totally out of control, covering a large area surrounding the entire park.

Then I began to hear gun shots. Only a few at first and I thought they were blanks. But they weren't. Kids got shot! And one kid (Steve Rector) got killed while throwing rocks at the cops from the roof of a house on the other side of the park. He was the only fatality as far as I know. But there had to be dozens of injured on both sides. Finally at nightfall the police had driven the kids back and the fence was pretty much all torn down. I never left my room all day, and by late at night I was hungry and decided to venture out. I walked towards Kips and on the main drag I saw police in riot gear marching down the street and shooting tear gas at any kids they saw outside. That included me! I hid until they had passed me by and went running towards Kips. Why I went there I couldn't tell you, other than I was a pool hall rat back then.

I made it to the entrance hall way at Kips before the riot police spotted me and one of two others entering the hallway. They lobbed tear gas canisters at us and we ran into Kips as fast as we could. Some of the gas got inside and everyone's eyes were watering and we were looking for water to wash them out. My eyes burned for a long time (over and hour I'm sure) and when I felt better I just wanted to get the hell out of there. It was late by now, after Midnight and it seemed quiet. I snuck outside and just wanted to make it the few blocks back to my hotel. I was triple careful when I realized cops were still patroling the streets. I ran from one place to another hiding every few yards to remain unseen. I saw the cops but they didn't see me.

At the hotel I packed my few things and waited until just before daylight to make my escape. My car was parked close by and I got in and drove out very carefully, looking in every direction until I got far away. Fuck pool, I was in survival mode.

I found out later hundreds of kids they caught went to jail and many served short terms like 15 or 30 days. A few of the instigators got longer terms, up to a year or more. I got lucky I guess. The only time I was ever tear gassed and it was no fun.
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That's interesting, since just 3 months after that People's Park riot, my GF and I were in Berkeley for the entire month of August. And although I also gravitated to Kip's, I only remember 3 players of any note, and no college students at all. In fact most of the time I was there, the place was almost deserted. The house man was a fat left handed player named Wayne, who called himself "The Garbageman" because that was part of his duties. There was also an angry hippie who was definitely not into Peace and Love, and who woofed a lot but had a rep for playing on ass. The one semi-notable player was Tony Bowles, AKA "The Pirate", because he always wore a bandana. He tried giving me the 8 and I flat out robbed him, and trust me, I was never close to being a top player. Two years later I came back to Berkeley for a few months and Kip's seemed to be on its last legs, with the action all over in the City.
 
Taxi said:
That's interesting, since just 3 months after that People's Park riot, my GF and I were in Berkeley for the entire month of August. And although I also gravitated to Kip's, I only remember 3 players of any note, and no college students at all. In fact most of the time I was there, the place was almost deserted. The house man was a fat left handed player named Wayne, who called himself "The Garbageman" because that was part of his duties. There was also an angry hippie who was definitely not into Peace and Love, and who woofed a lot but had a rep for playing on ass. The one semi-notable player was Tony Bowles, AKA "The Pirate", because he always wore a bandana. He tried giving me the 8 and I flat out robbed him, and trust me, I was never close to being a top player. Two years later I came back to Berkeley for a few months and Kip's seemed to be on its last legs, with the action all over in the City.
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The riots had a lasting impact on off campus life. When I was there for those two days Kips had a lot of business and a few kids that liked to play Eight Ball or 9-Ball. True, they weren't good players, but I liked it that way. I didn't see Tony Bowles when I was there.
 
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