I've told this story before here and I'm pretty sure Scott doesn't mind if I repeat it...
When I played 9 ball halfway decently, a young guy comes into McCoys and starts his career. That was Scott Frost. Well, I still gambled a little bit back then and he wanted to play me 9-ball on the 9' GCs for, I think, a buck or two a game.
So, here I am ahead about $15 bucks or so and Scott is running out of money. He has two friends with him but they're not helping. I'm thinking, damn, I robbing a child, and I didn't like the feeling and hoped no one would notice or care. The room was pretty empty.
Suddenly, in walks a woman about my age. She's heading towards Scott and I thought, Oh Crap, it's his Mom!...I'm in trouble. I said to myself, OK, I'll give back the money if she complains. Scott says something to her, she opens her pocketbook and out comes a 20 that she hands to Scott and says, "Good luck" or something like that.
We were back in action! (I still tell folks that I'm up on Scott...shhhh, don't tell anyone the amount, please)
Not a big fancy story, but it stuck in my mind.
Jeff Livingston