How I got my pool nickname...

I Ain'ta Skeered Of Needles........It's The FOOD That Frightens Me

JoeyA said:
Mr. Wiley,
I think you should go and copy and past the "BOB" TRUE story here.... REALLY. It's timely and appropriate. I know you can't type that long but it would bring a lot of smiles to a lot of people. Some haven't heard it and should.
JoeyA
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Joey "With A Tie",
It's been posted here about 3 times in the past 3 months and some members now know it better than I do.... imo

I have about 14 appointments & procedures set up at the VA in the next four weeks. I'm thinking about changing my name to "Up-The-Wazoo". :)
 
Nicknames should be like inside jokes, not a marketing tool that may present you to be something you're not.

With that being said, great stories!
 
JoeyA said:
A'right, a'right, a'right. Come on, tell me how you got da name, Joe Pesci.
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Well I'm short, I wear my hair slicked back, and people say I sound like him when get exited or mad. One night in front of the poolroom I was in my Mustang smoking a joint when a guy walks up with a chrome plated handgun (.38 cal. I think) he told me to get out of the car. As I got out I pulled my 25 cal out of my jacket pocket and shot him in the upper arm twice. He never tried to return fire, just took off running. Next night I come in the poolroom and they had tagged me with the nick Pesci. Johnnyt
 
OK, this may prove embarrassing, but my pool nickname is "slow roll Stu," and it was given to me in the late 1990's by my good friend George "Ginky" SanSouci, who noticed that I liked, and was very good at, slow rolling balls. My close friend Tony Robles took similar notice and has been known to describe a shot hit just barely hard enough to reach the pocket as having been hit at "Stu speed." Tough to argue with two BCA Open champions, and I'm pleased to note that my locker at the Amsterdam Billiard Club in NYC has my nickname engraved into the metal nameplate.
 
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hondo said:
WHAT AN UNBELIEVABLE COINCIDENCE!!

That's how I got my nickname " Beer Belly"!
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Well, I should clarify a minor detail ;)

I actually got the name because she said:

OMG! I thought you had a sixpack in there! :(

~rc
 
akaTrigger said:
Nice Story, Joey with a Tie!

Mine is told via this thread: http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=79130
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YOu could have done this: :smile:
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Nickname Dilemma for AZB by MELINDA:

So, I finally found a nickname... just as everyone said, it needed to come from someone else, instead of me trying to find one (I had been looking for a "weather" related nickname to no avail [I'm a meteorologist]).

So, Father Daddy yells across the room during my first tournament at Texas Billiards several months ago, "way to go, Trigger!" (he'd bought me in the calcutta). I was like, oh my - I love it! (he didn't even know I was looking for a nickname).

What's my dilemma? I wanted to change my AZB name from Melinda to Trigger. But, there is already a Trigger (and he has all red reps).

What should I do? What should I change it to now? The New Trigger? Trigger Me Happy? What? I'm looking for ideas... Thanks!

Melinda (aka Trigger)
__________________
 
Smorgass Bored said:
Joey "With A Tie",
It's been posted here about 3 times in the past 3 months and some members now know it better than I do.... imo

I have about 14 appointments & procedures set up at the VA in the next four weeks. I'm thinking about changing my name to "Up-The-Wazoo". :)
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"Up the Wazoo" (doesn't exactly roll off the tongue) but as is befitting someone of your size and prominence, you should be allowed as many nicknames as you like, "Smorg'", "Tampa Tubby", "Bob" "UTW" , whatever.
I prefer to call you simply, "Sir".
Colorful nicknames have always been a part of pool lore.
The big guns of my day were, The Knoxville Bear, Squirrel, Cornbread, Weenie Beenie, Daddy Warbucks, Fast Eddie, and a bunch of "Red's" and "Whitey's", usually preceeded by their city or state of origin.
Others were derived from physical attributes (pool rooms are much like schoolyards in that regard) Little Hand, One-armed bandit, Alley Oop, One Eyed, (lots of those) and a bunch of "Stuttering"....insert name.
Also prominent were military handles, "Sailor", "Flyboy", "Captain" etc.
In my teens and early 20's, I was known as the "Durango Kid" in Alburqurque, Denver, SLC and thereabouts. (I hailed from Durango,Colo.)
It was not until I moved to San Jose, that I acquired the name that has stuck with me, even though I haven't lived there for over 40 years.
In the 60's, at least in California, your town of origin seemed to be the prefered nick-name for pool players.
Early on guys were always hung with their home town handles.
We had, LA Richie, (Florence) Tracy Joe, (Salazar) Fremont Cole, (Dixon)
Santa Clara John, (Hoffman) Bakersfield Bob, (Hernandez)to name a few.
The original "Frisco Jack" was Jack Perkin's until Jack Cooney's national prominence gave the name to him.

The deep south, and Texas seemed to come up with some great handles for their premier players. "Squirrel, Rifleman, The Creeper, Houn' Dog,...too many to name them all.
My personal favorite nick-name, was a good little scuff from Shreveport who, despite his efforts to become a top player, always seemed to get the bad roll. He was also very accident prone, and the "tushhogs" always kept him in either a cast, band-aids, or sporting a shiner. Don't remember his real name, everybody called him.... "Shipwreck".

San Jose Dick

PS. "Canadian Bob" was a Calgary transplant who hung around Cochran's for a few years before hitting the road. He soon garnered the nick-name,
"California Bob".
After busting him one time in Houston, as I was handing him his walking stick, I said jokingly. "I'd give you more Bob, but it pisses me off that you got the whole state for your handle, and left me with one lousy Bay Area town for mine". He said, "you can have it, I'm going back to Canada".
 
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JoeyA said:
Or as Luigi would say, my nom de pool.

The story won't be fascinating or anything like that but I hope others who have acquired nicknames will see fit to add their story here. In that way, those who come after us might see how they were acquired and under what conditions.

My nickname came about quite naturally. It wasn't anything extraordinary like many nicknames it was quite relative. My typical day was I got to work at 8:00 am every morning; I mean the real work. I was a salesman for a large business forms company in New Orleans called Duplex Products. I excelled at selling business forms not from talent but kind of like my pool game, just plain old determination and sticktoitiveness. My sales and order entry were down to a fine science by the time I started hanging out at the Sport Palace in New Orleans and I would normally be finished my day's work by lunch time. Just so you guys and girls don't get the wrong idea about my work ethic: The company paid their salesmen on what they sold only. It was straight commission. No Salary. If you didn't make your draw, you went in the hole and had to earn your way back out of the hole. The company didn't let you sit in the hole for long and they would send you down the road in a heart beat if you weren't productive. Sometimes I would work at night or weekends or whenever it was necessary to keep the orders rolling in. Not once in the 12 years that I worked for them, did I ever go in the hole even once. I always had an extra commission check coming every month above my draw. It wasn't the easiest job in the world but by the time I started playing pool at the Sport Palace I had it down to a science and my boss was quite happy with my productivity. I even carried him a time or two.

At lunch time, I would go over to the Sport Palace and either grab a quick Po-Boy roast beef sandwich or maybe a shrimp sandwich and quickly go over the the pool hall. As soon as I arrived, it was kind of strange, they treated me like I was a celebrity of sorts. (I had a job, money, played pool, enjoyed gambling and had some free time to do what they all liked to do). I wore a suit or coat and tie every day to work and when I would come into the Sport Palace I would leave my coat in the car and come in with my cue and case in hand, with my tie always in tack. I didn't know it at the time and really didn't pay any attention to the reason that the gamblers were attracted to me but they were always fighting to see who would play me that day.

No more than a few minutes would pass before someone would offer me a game I couldn't refuse. Nubby was my favorite pool hustler. He was a drug dealer by trade and had lost one of his hands do to a dynamite explosion or so he always told me. There were many others, Earl Heisler (the big dog) Al Werlein (the road warrior) Ernie Sellers (the Lamb killer and one of the few pool players that made a decent living gambling at pool). Ernie worked at his trade all over the country and he could really play but seldom ever showed his true speed. Racetrack Al and Hotel Al, two different guys from different parts of the world would often be there when I gambled trying to get in some side bets. There were dozens of working stiffs like myself who liked the shadowy underworld of the Sport Palace with the discreet card room in the back where you had to be a member of the Red Rose Social Club (charter and all) to play. Tall Paul, Railroad Willie, Pots and Pans, Joe the Grinder, Mr. Steve (one of my favorites), Louie Knott, LIttle Louie KNott, Little Sal, Eddie Brown, Jim D'Fish, Louie the fisherman, Tenneco, Larry Griff the golfer, Jerome Gambino (I always thought he wsa part of the Louisiana mafia ), PVL, Mike Cummings the baseball player, Country, Mule, Bull, Nut, Red Charlie, Fu Man Chu, Junior the card sharp; God, I could probably go on for another half hour with all of the characters that played pool out of that pool room and most everyone had a nickname. The charter for the card room was a farce and basically it was a means of segretating the gamblers by race but it also kept the law out of the back room unless they had a search warrant or had permission from either Louie Knott or Earl Heisler to go back there. It was what it was and was there before my time. How it existed in the eighties I will never know. There were no racial barriers in the pool room and all races locked horns and gambled with one another with no holds barred. Nubby REALLY liked gambling with me. At the time I first arrived, I didn't even know all of the rules of one pocket, let alone the many shots and strategies that go with the game. The players would give me weight and I would play for five ten or twenty dollars a game every day for a few hours before making my way home.

Nubby knew the game of one pocket quite well but didn't shoot that straight and I knew from the start that he would make a great customer for me. He too knew that I was a man to keep my mouth shut about how much he lost to me (which was important to him) and so each day I would have a game with one of the scores of gamblers that hung out at the Sport Palace. Nubby would rest his cue shaft on the wrist bone just above where his hand once was located and did all right for himself. I kept my winnings and his business to myself as most everyone did in those days. He would occasionally get mad at me (mostly a conjured anger that was just for show) and quit me but he always came back to play again and again for years. I always showed him respect and I think that meant something special to him. The Sport Palace was a tough place to cut your teeth playing pool and respect was something that you earned with prowess at the table. Nubby didn't play poorly, he just had too much money and would always make the game more than fair for me and I always wanted to thank him and so I never said unkind things to him or about him behind his back. He must have liked that because he repaid me many times. I would lose on occasion and it didn't matter if it was twenty dollars, it kept Nubby happy and something for him to hold his head up high. He didn't need much to keep him happy and I didn't give him much except for keeping my mouth shut.

Anyway, after a game and stakes were set, I would walk straight to the pool table without hitting a ball (they all loved that) and set the balls on the table with the ball holding rack under the table. Then I would remove my tie and place it in the ball holding rack and begin play. This protocol was repeated for years and then one day after I had earned enough respect, Hotel Al (a real New Orleans character) who still operates a limousine service in New Orleans at the Hotels, announced that my name was Joey With A Tie and anytime someone wanted to differentiate me from one of the other Joeys, they would simply say, "Joey With A Tie".

Hope you enjoyed it. :smile:

Now let's hear yours.

JoeyA (Joey With A Tie)

P.S. Other nicknames came later but they didn't stick like: The Cannon Killer. :D
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ah, I knew it would be worth the wait! Great story, Joey With a Tie. I'm sure a picture of you from that era would be priceless... got one?

Lou "Luigi" Figueroa
 
Joey has pictures

lfigueroa said:
ah, I knew it would be worth the wait! Great story, Joey With a Tie. I'm sure a picture of you from that era would be priceless... got one?

Lou "Luigi" Figueroa
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Joey has pictures. He has to produce one! I well remember when anyone that came into my home poolroom with a dress shirt and tie on just had to be rich and everybody in the place started drooling at the sight. Joey was such a fresh faced young man too that I am sure they all felt like sharks with blood in the water when he walked through the door.

Joey still manages to maintain some of that fresh eyed innocent look. I bet it has made him a fortune over the years!

Hu
 
TX Poolnut said:
I use to get out and play a lot, but noone ever gave me a nickname. :sad: :crying: :o :(
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That's the saddest story I ever heard.

:crying: :crying: :crying: :crying:
 
I was playing snooker with a friend of mine & there was this old man watching us, for about an hour. I had just played 3 lock up safties & this old guy calls me over. "DO YOU KNOW THIS GUY YOU"RE PLAYIN"? I said "YA, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND". The old guy says "IF YOU PLAY THAT DIRTY AGAINST YOUR BEST FRIEND, THEN YOU MUST HAVE A HEART AS BLACK AS COAL" Well the counter man over heard & started teasing me about having a BLACK HEART & the nickname stuck. When I started making pool cues, people just said they were one of those BLACK HEART CUES & I started to put the little black heart on the butt plate & have ever since...JER
 
BLACKHEARTCUES said:
I was playing snooker with a friend of mine & there was this old man watching us, for about an hour. I had just played 3 lock up safties & this old guy calls me over. "DO YOU KNOW THIS GUY YOU"RE PLAYIN"? I said "YA, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND". The old guy says "IF YOU PLAY THAT DIRTY AGAINST YOUR BEST FRIEND, THEN YOU MUST HAVE A HEART AS BLACK AS COAL" Well the counter man over heard & started teasing me about having a BLACK HEART & the nickname stuck. When I started making pool cues, people just said they were one of those BLACK HEART CUES & I started to put the little black heart on the butt plate & have ever since...JER
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What a story! :thumbup: '
 
My Name

I think Joey already knows my story, but I will fill in everyone else. While in college, I would play in a small hometown tournament at a very small 3 bar-table bar. Everyone knew I was studying to be a physician, so they just called me "Doc". I liked it, but I thought is was a bit common. While working as a paramedic years later and going through medical school, my EMT partner would refer to me as "DocHutch" and it stuck.

Jamie "DocHutch" Hutchinson
 
I get referred to as Crash by my friends. I've had a really bad tendencie to break that rule about moving other object balls than the one you're shooting at. Playing bump shape off balls and crashing into clusters. But hey, whatever it takes to run out. Really ticks off a lot of opponents too. They act like you're supposed to get hooked every time you touch a ball. Rediculous.... LOL
 
satman said:
I get referred to as Crash by my friends. I've had a really bad tendencie to break that rule about moving other object balls than the one you're shooting at. Playing bump shape off balls and crashing into clusters. But hey, whatever it takes to run out. Really ticks off a lot of opponents too. They act like you're supposed to get hooked every time you touch a ball. Rediculous.... LOL
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Years ago a regular in the old Peter Pan Billiards in SLC, Utah, was called "The Dutchman" (real name Harry Hollenbach) Harry played all games, and loved to gamble.
He spoke with a very thick accent as he had not been here long.
He was a big, good natured plumber, and very clumsy. (some times on purpose I think)
Very often when he was trying position a ball on the spot, he would drop it and balls would fly in all directions.
I can still hear him now, laughing and saying, " Vuups, ver vas dey ?"

Dick

PS Harry was too big too argue with, so we'd always let him replace the balls where he thought they were. plus he almost always lost.
 
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