How good was Mike Coltrain?
- Thread starter justinb386
- Start date
Classless .......
You are an idiot. I will never be able to see a post of yours again without feeling utter disgust. If you have made good contributions to the forum in the past, this post of yours sure wipes the slate clean. Did you even read the post before yours?
I copied your post onto mine. If you have enough dignity to wipe your post out, then I will this one as well.
Last edited:
Nice post.
Mike came to Shooters Olathe several times years ago. He really had an A-game.
That is the most outrageously cruel post that I have ever read on this Forum. Shameful.
I watched Mike play at the Bicycle Club in the mid Nineties. He ran through a bunch of well known players. A great young talent who had the misfortune to develop a physical ailment that ended his career and you make fun of him?
I will ignore you forever--with pleasure!
Not that I want to give this guy anymore attention, but I don't quite understand the 3rd sentence in his paragraph. (the one I made in bold) Can someone please enlighten me as to what he is trying to say.
He got the 8 from Walden one time also and he couldnt quite get there that time either.
An alergy is a bad response, baying is like shouting, and a mob is a crowd. So he was basically joking that Coultrain couldnt handle tbe crowd at tbe cup and that experience created a condition that haunted him ever since.
Thank you sir.
No problem. I think that is what he was saying. that is how I read it anyways.
First tie I met Michael Coltrain was at Q-Masters in, I think, 2002. They were hosting the Q-Masters Spring Tournament, double-elimination format, and the place was packed with pool heavyweights from around the country. Here's a copy-and-paste of my memory:
One of my favorite tournament matches occurred at Q-Masters in Norfolk, VA. I think it was around 2001-2002 era, subject to check. It was the Q-Masters Spring Open, or some name like that, and one of my first so-called "pro" tournaments. I didn't know many of the pros back then, like I do today, but I did, however, know all my Virginia homeboys, who were there in full force. So I did have some pool friends to hang on the rail with while sweating the matches.
Keith was on fire, running racks, making shots that I couldn't even imagine. In fact, he managed to stay on the winner's side of the charts the entire tournament, never losing a match.
One set, however, was close against a big man named Ron Park. It came down to the infamous hill-hill. Ron was running out and only had the 7, 8, and 9 left. Piece of cake for Ron, I thought. After he pocketed the 7, I turned to my Virginia buddy, Billy Stephens, and said, "Well, I guess we lost," as Ron's cueball rolled all the way up table and rested on the rail. The 8-rock was also on the same rail about 4 inches in front of it, what looks to me like a straight-in duck shot.
Billy shocked me when he said, "Not necessarily, Jennie. This is *not* an easy shot." I thinking, what, are you kidding me? It's a straight-in shot; the 8-ball is 10 inches from the pocket, with the cue-ball right behind it. Well, Ron fired at the 8, trying to get position on the 9, which was at the opposite end of the table, and he missed. OMG, he missed!
I looked at Billy in disbelief and said, "How did you know that?" Keith ran out, of course, putting Ron in third place. The finals came down to Keith versus Michael Coltrain. Now, Keith had already defeated Michael earlier in the tourney, knocking him in the losers bracket. I figured even if Keith lost this match, he'd get another chance. WRONG! This was my first experience of an extended race at the end in a double-elimination format, and Michael Coltrain won the event. Keith never got to lose a match like everybody else in the tournament did.
Well, the next best thing to first place is second place, and we pocketed a couple or more dimes which covered our weekend expenses. After the tournament, a celebration was on. Everybody was partying, enjoying the the atmosphere with all these great pool players in the joint. Close to midnight, however, the place began to dwindle. I wanted to leave and begin the 3-hour trek back home, but not Keith. Oh, no! Sam Monday from North Carolina was there and barking at Keith to give him some weight and bet something.
Keith's nostrils were wide open. Sam had all the North Carolina Boys as his backers committee to play Keith for three dimes. Sam was getting the wild 8-ball in 9-ball for a 12-ahead set. I had no idea how long an ahead set could take back then. I had all the second-place tournament winnings in my purse, and Keith came to me with his hand out, wanting me to give him 3,000 beans to play Sam Monday. I knew if I did, we'd be stuck for the trip, but what the heck, why not, I thought, not realizing I'd be there until daybreak in a 12-ahead match. Michael Coltrain was on Sam's backers committee. Everybody liked Sam to win this match, and he had a cheerleader squad on the rail. Keith had only me rooting him in.
Long story short, Sam had Keith 11 games stuck, and I had accepted defeat in my mind. And then, like a burst of lightning in the jug, Keith found a second gear and ran out and ran out and ran out and that 11-game lead went the other direction within less than a hour, with Keith winning all the dough, 12 games ahead of Sam. I've never seen anything like it since, the way the tides changed so quickly. He gave Sam a walking stick in the bathroom for giving him action, and we drove back home at daylight, during the Monday morning rush hour. Mike might have won the tournament, but we came home with most of the cheesenips.
One thing about Coltrain today is his handicapping capabilities in pool when side-betting. Usually, it's right on the money [pun intended]. He miscalculated Keith v. Sam, though, that night in 2002.
Here's a cute shot of Michael's father, Keith, Michael, and, of course, Earl. :grin-square:
One of my favorite tournament matches occurred at Q-Masters in Norfolk, VA. I think it was around 2001-2002 era, subject to check. It was the Q-Masters Spring Open, or some name like that, and one of my first so-called "pro" tournaments. I didn't know many of the pros back then, like I do today, but I did, however, know all my Virginia homeboys, who were there in full force. So I did have some pool friends to hang on the rail with while sweating the matches.
Keith was on fire, running racks, making shots that I couldn't even imagine. In fact, he managed to stay on the winner's side of the charts the entire tournament, never losing a match.
One set, however, was close against a big man named Ron Park. It came down to the infamous hill-hill. Ron was running out and only had the 7, 8, and 9 left. Piece of cake for Ron, I thought. After he pocketed the 7, I turned to my Virginia buddy, Billy Stephens, and said, "Well, I guess we lost," as Ron's cueball rolled all the way up table and rested on the rail. The 8-rock was also on the same rail about 4 inches in front of it, what looks to me like a straight-in duck shot.
Billy shocked me when he said, "Not necessarily, Jennie. This is *not* an easy shot." I thinking, what, are you kidding me? It's a straight-in shot; the 8-ball is 10 inches from the pocket, with the cue-ball right behind it. Well, Ron fired at the 8, trying to get position on the 9, which was at the opposite end of the table, and he missed. OMG, he missed!
I looked at Billy in disbelief and said, "How did you know that?" Keith ran out, of course, putting Ron in third place. The finals came down to Keith versus Michael Coltrain. Now, Keith had already defeated Michael earlier in the tourney, knocking him in the losers bracket. I figured even if Keith lost this match, he'd get another chance. WRONG! This was my first experience of an extended race at the end in a double-elimination format, and Michael Coltrain won the event. Keith never got to lose a match like everybody else in the tournament did.
Well, the next best thing to first place is second place, and we pocketed a couple or more dimes which covered our weekend expenses. After the tournament, a celebration was on. Everybody was partying, enjoying the the atmosphere with all these great pool players in the joint. Close to midnight, however, the place began to dwindle. I wanted to leave and begin the 3-hour trek back home, but not Keith. Oh, no! Sam Monday from North Carolina was there and barking at Keith to give him some weight and bet something.
Keith's nostrils were wide open. Sam had all the North Carolina Boys as his backers committee to play Keith for three dimes. Sam was getting the wild 8-ball in 9-ball for a 12-ahead set. I had no idea how long an ahead set could take back then. I had all the second-place tournament winnings in my purse, and Keith came to me with his hand out, wanting me to give him 3,000 beans to play Sam Monday. I knew if I did, we'd be stuck for the trip, but what the heck, why not, I thought, not realizing I'd be there until daybreak in a 12-ahead match. Michael Coltrain was on Sam's backers committee. Everybody liked Sam to win this match, and he had a cheerleader squad on the rail. Keith had only me rooting him in.
Long story short, Sam had Keith 11 games stuck, and I had accepted defeat in my mind. And then, like a burst of lightning in the jug, Keith found a second gear and ran out and ran out and ran out and that 11-game lead went the other direction within less than a hour, with Keith winning all the dough, 12 games ahead of Sam. I've never seen anything like it since, the way the tides changed so quickly. He gave Sam a walking stick in the bathroom for giving him action, and we drove back home at daylight, during the Monday morning rush hour. Mike might have won the tournament, but we came home with most of the cheesenips.
One thing about Coltrain today is his handicapping capabilities in pool when side-betting. Usually, it's right on the money [pun intended]. He miscalculated Keith v. Sam, though, that night in 2002.
Here's a cute shot of Michael's father, Keith, Michael, and, of course, Earl. :grin-square:
Attachments
![P7319623[1].jpg](/data/attachments/300/300145-405afde63ad5a5237acc66790c66b12c.jpg?hash=QFr95jrVpS)
Guess it must have taken you a good ten years to come up with that Avatar. So how can I take your opinion seriously.
The panther is native to Africa and The Pink Panther to South Africa.
British comedians who are appreciated by the more enlightened US public? -
Charlie Chaplin, Benny Hill, Billy Connelly, Bob Hope, Ricky Gervais, John Cleese, Hugh Laurie to name but a few. But for a truly funny American that could hold an international audience you have to go back to Bob Newhart or Spike Jones.
To the rest of the Bleeding Hearts on here - I have not deliberately set out to attack Michael. But 'classless' from someone using a Phallic Symbol for an avatar. An idiot and ignorant? Look in the mirror before answering.
Do you really know to what I am referring? Were you there in 2000 when Michael made his Mosconi Cup debut on the back of some first class tournament performances.
I was!
Mike's ability was without question when Matchroom chose him to play.
But come the day all his skills were slowly negated. At 3-3 he was pleading with his captain to let him on next because he had developed a shake. He managed to eke out a 5-4 win against European debutant Marcus Chamat. But the atmosphere had reached him and by the time he played his last match where a victory could have taken his team past the Winning Post he had nothing in his armory to prevent Steve Davis rolling over him. I have just rerun that match this morning and hearing the crowd chanting, many people would have also ended up on the wrong end of the 0-5 scoreline that Steve put on him.
From that day on he never did attain his top level of play again.
Many thanks to Satori who explained my original post with a full understanding of what I said and that is all you are going to get on the subject from me.
Do you really know to what I am referring? Were you there in 2000 when Michael made his Mosconi Cup debut on the back of some first class tournament performances.
I was!
Mike's ability was without question when Matchroom chose him to play.
But come the day all his skills were slowly negated. At 3-3 he was pleading with his captain to let him on next because he had developed a shake. He managed to eke out a 5-4 win against European debutant Marcus Chamat. But the atmosphere had reached him and by the time he played his last match where a victory could have taken his team past the Winning Post he had nothing in his armory to prevent Steve Davis rolling over him. I have just rerun that match this morning and hearing the crowd chanting, many people would have also ended up on the wrong end of the 0-5 scoreline that Steve put on him.
From that day on he never did attain his top level of play again.
Many thanks to Satori who explained my original post with a full understanding of what I said and that is all you are going to get on the subject from me.
Last edited:
I went out on the road hustling golf of all things with Mike and Shannon Daulton in the Raleigh and Asheville areas in 2000-2001. Mike told me that he had gone to every single doctor in the area including Duke University to try and diagnose and fix the problem he developed. It was called Focal Task Tremors and unfortunately they could never find a remedy. Oddly enough, it didn't affect his golf swing. It was just something about the alignment of his arm and focusing on the pool shot that triggered the shaking. Sad because he is a great guy and from all accounts was an unbelievable player. Shannon said he could have been one of the best.