Hey, Alf Taylor, are you there?

BillPorter

BillPorter

AzB Silver Member
Silver Member
I was talking to Alf Taylor this morning about a couple of amazing shots that were played against him by top players. He said he would put up a post about the shots today, so I am trying to prompt him to do so. Cole Dickson was one of the players he mentioned.
 
For you, Prof. I'm always available

Some shots stick with you forever. In the seventies San Jose Dick came to Texas with a whole new style of One Pocket. We had been used to Puckett's style of making a couple of balls and playing safe. This California style of "Hurricane" One Pocket, where they bet the game on a bank and run out was new to me. Dick was giving me 9 to 6 (he didn't draw anything back). I froze him to the stack on his side of the table with no shot and no safety in sight. Dick had a dead ball by the end rail, on my side of the table and I had balls by my pocket He bridged out of the stack and shot the cueball into the rail where it bounced over the stack and came up hard behind the dead ball, which he made and ran out on my ass. Tremendous shot by a super player...and, to this day, my dear friend.

Another unforgettable shot, around the same time, in Houston. Cole Dixon had just come from California and was shooting everyone full of holes playing 9 ball. I played him a sesion of one-Pocket, four ahead for his last three hundred dollars. As straight as he shot, he didn't know spit about one pocket and I felt like I was stealing. I was three ahead in less than an hour and I had him six to nothing on the forth game, and stuck him in the stack on his side of the table. He was dead meat and he knew it. Cole asked me if I would take two fifty to call it off. All of my friends were watching me torturing this young hot shot so I showed no mercy, telling him to "Stop your crying and shoot". Cole held his cue with his stroking hand and bridge hand up in the air and just smashed it into the stack, giving up and said "Well, just stick it in your ass", and turned to walk away. Along with balls splattering everywhere, two balls banked across the side, into his pocket like rockets. I don't know if it was shock or my confidence, but I didn't call foul. Cole ran out from nowhere and broke my pea sized heart. He still didn't play one-pocket against me but that eagle eyed little S.O.B. started making everything he shot at and Rover took over. I never won another game.
The Chinese have an expression for implementing a "killer punch". They say "Shoot the drowning dog". I guess my gun wasn't loaded against Mr. Dixon.
Keep it nice. Alfie
 
Yep

Yep, those are the two stories I was thinking about. The story about Dick McMorran (San Jose Dick) made me think back to a shot I saw him make playing 9 Ball. I don't recall who his opponent was, but I still remember Dick looking at a shot on the 4 ball. Making the 4 was no problem, but there was no obvious path to position on the 5. After staring at the table for a few seconds, Dick dropped down on the shot and fired the 4 into a side pocket at near break speed, drawing the cue ball three rails for great position on the 5. That was the moment when I realized that Dick could REALLY play!:smile:
 
Alf Taylor said:
Some shots stick with you forever. In the seventies San Jose Dick came to Texas with a whole new style of One Pocket. We had been used to Puckett's style of making a couple of balls and playing safe. This California style of "Hurricane" One Pocket, where they bet the game on a bank and run out was new to me. Dick was giving me 9 to 6 (he didn't draw anything back). I froze him to the stack on his side of the table with no shot and no safety in sight. Dick had a dead ball by the end rail, on my side of the table and I had balls by my pocket He bridged out of the stack and shot the cueball into the rail where it bounced over the stack and came up hard behind the dead ball, which he made and ran out on my ass. Tremendous shot by a super player...and, to this day, my dear friend.

Another unforgettable shot, around the same time, in Houston. Cole Dixon had just come from California and was shooting everyone full of holes playing 9 ball. I played him a sesion of one-Pocket, four ahead for his last three hundred dollars. As straight as he shot, he didn't know spit about one pocket and I felt like I was stealing. I was three ahead in less than an hour and I had him six to nothing on the forth game, and stuck him in the stack on his side of the table. He was dead meat and he knew it. Cole asked me if I would take two fifty to call it off. All of my friends were watching me torturing this young hot shot so I showed no mercy, telling him to "Stop your crying and shoot". Cole held his cue with his stroking hand and bridge hand up in the air and just smashed it into the stack, giving up and said "Well, just stick it in your ass", and turned to walk away. Along with balls splattering everywhere, two balls banked across the side, into his pocket like rockets. I don't know if it was shock or my confidence, but I didn't call foul. Cole ran out from nowhere and broke my pea sized heart. He still didn't play one-pocket against me but that eagle eyed little S.O.B. started making everything he shot at and Rover took over. I never won another game.
The Chinese have an expression for implementing a "killer punch". They say "Shoot the drowning dog". I guess my gun wasn't loaded against Mr. Dixon.
Keep it nice. Alfie
Click to expand...

great stories....:thumbup:

heres cole dickson making to nice banks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiBM6JLcmK4
 
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