I don't know if I've let this one out on here before, but here goes.
1986-89?, Greenville, NC. I had just really started making three or four in a row consecutively. I think I was in my second year of college. Well, I had met Lenny Crandall, who in our world was a world beater. (Later, after moving to Raleigh, I realized him being a world beater was "not so much") Well, Lenny was a tall, black fella with a pretty deep voice. Commanding presence about him. Anyway, he invited me to go (I was the driver) to a poolroom in Roper, NC. He said there would be a ringgame that he'd have the best in, and I could go half. Well, I'd never seen anything for more than like $5 a game, so I was hooked.
I told my roommate about my trip on Friday night. He just laughed at me and told me I couldn't make a ball in the Pacific ocean. Oh well, off we went, bound for Roper.
On arrival, this place was a house. Seriously, a converted house. Well, I had very little cash, and so I bought a beer and sat down. Lenny jumped into a six ball game for $5 a man, five handed. Wow, it was new to me. This heavy set fella asked me to play some for $2 bucks a game. I was in action. After a while, I was up about $15-20? He wanted to raise the bet to $5. I literally was scared to death. Well, I drank enough to ease the fear. I finally get up to $40? He wants to play for $20! I asked Lenny what to do. Why not.........
The guy tells me before we start, he has to go home and get some cash. And does he. He comes back with a stack of twenties. Well, three or four hours later and I'm up over $400! I'm the only white guy in the place, and I'm listening to "Funky Cold Medina" on the jukebox like 20 times in a row. It's snowing like a madman outside, and Lenny urged me to get paid and head back to G-Vegas. So, the guy steps outside with me to pay me. Kinda scary really. Nope, no problem. He counted out the twenties, and I thought I'd bust I was so thrilled.
I decide to take my roommate and some girls out to celebrate and rub his Pacific Nose in it. So, off we go to the ELBO room. I quickly pull out my new wad for our Long Island Teas. High on pool. Anyway, the bartender takes the cash and then stops. He holds it in the light, and laughs. "What the fu@# is this?" He shows it to me. They were fake. Every fu#$ing one of them. My roommate is laughing so hard at me, I couldn't take it. Whatever, I'll never forget the snowfall and the win. And... the newly printed twenties.
As we headed back home, guess what was on the radio.
Funky Cold Medina. Fu@# that dude.
1986-89?, Greenville, NC. I had just really started making three or four in a row consecutively. I think I was in my second year of college. Well, I had met Lenny Crandall, who in our world was a world beater. (Later, after moving to Raleigh, I realized him being a world beater was "not so much") Well, Lenny was a tall, black fella with a pretty deep voice. Commanding presence about him. Anyway, he invited me to go (I was the driver) to a poolroom in Roper, NC. He said there would be a ringgame that he'd have the best in, and I could go half. Well, I'd never seen anything for more than like $5 a game, so I was hooked.
I told my roommate about my trip on Friday night. He just laughed at me and told me I couldn't make a ball in the Pacific ocean. Oh well, off we went, bound for Roper.
On arrival, this place was a house. Seriously, a converted house. Well, I had very little cash, and so I bought a beer and sat down. Lenny jumped into a six ball game for $5 a man, five handed. Wow, it was new to me. This heavy set fella asked me to play some for $2 bucks a game. I was in action. After a while, I was up about $15-20? He wanted to raise the bet to $5. I literally was scared to death. Well, I drank enough to ease the fear. I finally get up to $40? He wants to play for $20! I asked Lenny what to do. Why not.........
The guy tells me before we start, he has to go home and get some cash. And does he. He comes back with a stack of twenties. Well, three or four hours later and I'm up over $400! I'm the only white guy in the place, and I'm listening to "Funky Cold Medina" on the jukebox like 20 times in a row. It's snowing like a madman outside, and Lenny urged me to get paid and head back to G-Vegas. So, the guy steps outside with me to pay me. Kinda scary really. Nope, no problem. He counted out the twenties, and I thought I'd bust I was so thrilled.
I decide to take my roommate and some girls out to celebrate and rub his Pacific Nose in it. So, off we go to the ELBO room. I quickly pull out my new wad for our Long Island Teas. High on pool. Anyway, the bartender takes the cash and then stops. He holds it in the light, and laughs. "What the fu@# is this?" He shows it to me. They were fake. Every fu#$ing one of them. My roommate is laughing so hard at me, I couldn't take it. Whatever, I'll never forget the snowfall and the win. And... the newly printed twenties.
As we headed back home, guess what was on the radio.
Funky Cold Medina. Fu@# that dude.
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I was playing guys (buddies of my uncles) for everything from the Twizzlers to Snickers bars and graduating to a buck a game. I got pretty good on that little barbox, and guys realized that taking it easy on a kid was no longer needed. My first real score, I was up a couple of bucks on a guy, and I was a bit cocky about it. He got a bit mad, and my uncle hollered out, "play him for $5 a game, I got it covered". I won two more games and the guy slammed down a $10 and walked out....I was shocked how mad the guy had gotten, but enjoyed EVERY minute of it. 
:thumbup:
