Identify the hustler part deux
- Thread starter SlateMan
- Start date
If a school girl comes into your pool room looking for action, be very afraid.
SlateMan
Registered
Almost as scary as a hustler coming into the pool room looking for a little girl......
SlateMan
Registered
Soooo you have some reservations? LOL!
Naw ..
You have the funny, you just don't know how to use it.
I'm just looking to play the best of the best of the best. With honors. Sir.
Tammy Wesley Jones would when she looked like a school girl. Not much bigger than a gnat but hell on the bangers that thought no girl could beat them. Alligator mouth, too big of a bet, Tammy takes down a nice little score!
Another friend, no mistaking her for a school girl but it was fun to watch her deflate an ego three or four times a month!
Fortunately I ran into a couple girls/ladies that could flat play early in my pool days so I never underestimate the power of a girl!
Hu
I heard Seinfeld could play. Swam with the sharks for fun.
after one rack you can clock most anyone unless you are not pool savvy.
so if you get taken by any stranger you are what is called a sucker. and isnt the fault of the so called hustler its on you.
and losing any large amount to a stranger is even worse. and in fact losing any large amount to anyone playing a game of skill is stupid.
so if you get taken by any stranger you are what is called a sucker. and isnt the fault of the so called hustler its on you.
and losing any large amount to a stranger is even worse. and in fact losing any large amount to anyone playing a game of skill is stupid.
It seems so easy to not chase bad money. However, you have money in your pocket and if one shot would have been different you would be the winner! The cue ball stopped a half inch too short of where you needed it or rolled a half inch too long. Your opponent got all the rolls so far, you are due to get them for awhile.
If somebody beats you with obvious skill it is fairly easy to pull up. When there is a large element of luck to the other player's win(s) It is almost impossible to pull up.
Hu
OK, off topic for pool, on topic for identifying the hustler.
I was at a "black" match track, horse racing. A very few white people but since I kept my horses with a black friend and was known in the community I was welcome. It was about midmorning when an old pick-up pulled in. Mississippi plates but we weren't far from Mississippi so not surprising. The pick-up had an open box around the bed made from two by fours and a horse in the box. This was a bit unusual, there were some awful ratty trailers at that track but nobody hauled a horse in a pick-up!
Watching from the side of my eye I watched an elderly white man and his wife get out of the truck. Getting a little closer I saw he was wearing ironed khaki pants and work shirt. It was thin at the cuffs and neck but neat. I walked up to the truck staying five feet or so back. Nobbling horses was a past time here so approaching a horse too closely without an invitation was a bad idea.
The horse's coat was long and ungroomed but I noticed the racing plates on it's feet. Nothing wrong with the confirmation under that ratty hair either. The lady was nearby and she matched the man, she was in gingham dress and sunbonnet, poor but neat as a pin. Everything was a little too perfect, except the racing plates. I used barrel plates which looked like regular shoes until a horse's hoof was picked up. Aluminum racing plates were in sharp contrast to everything else presented.
A little later a friend came up and asked what I thought about matching with the old couple. "Not no but hell no!" A little later they matched up for $500, a moderately big bet, and won pretty easily.
When I got back to the farm I asked Red about them. That horse was AAA and the old couple's retirement. They knew every match track for a couple hundred miles around and never hit the same one more than once or twice a year. They liked to run for $2500 but would drop down as low as $500 rather than go home empty handed.
I don't know if I might have bitten had it not been for my years in a pool room screaming a warning but the pool rooms told me the people were laying a spread just like I had many a time in a pool room. A fine old couple and I used to pass by their farm on the highway now and then. Tempted to visit but I didn't know them. We were kindred spirits though.
Hu
I was at a "black" match track, horse racing. A very few white people but since I kept my horses with a black friend and was known in the community I was welcome. It was about midmorning when an old pick-up pulled in. Mississippi plates but we weren't far from Mississippi so not surprising. The pick-up had an open box around the bed made from two by fours and a horse in the box. This was a bit unusual, there were some awful ratty trailers at that track but nobody hauled a horse in a pick-up!
Watching from the side of my eye I watched an elderly white man and his wife get out of the truck. Getting a little closer I saw he was wearing ironed khaki pants and work shirt. It was thin at the cuffs and neck but neat. I walked up to the truck staying five feet or so back. Nobbling horses was a past time here so approaching a horse too closely without an invitation was a bad idea.
The horse's coat was long and ungroomed but I noticed the racing plates on it's feet. Nothing wrong with the confirmation under that ratty hair either. The lady was nearby and she matched the man, she was in gingham dress and sunbonnet, poor but neat as a pin. Everything was a little too perfect, except the racing plates. I used barrel plates which looked like regular shoes until a horse's hoof was picked up. Aluminum racing plates were in sharp contrast to everything else presented.
A little later a friend came up and asked what I thought about matching with the old couple. "Not no but hell no!" A little later they matched up for $500, a moderately big bet, and won pretty easily.
When I got back to the farm I asked Red about them. That horse was AAA and the old couple's retirement. They knew every match track for a couple hundred miles around and never hit the same one more than once or twice a year. They liked to run for $2500 but would drop down as low as $500 rather than go home empty handed.
I don't know if I might have bitten had it not been for my years in a pool room screaming a warning but the pool rooms told me the people were laying a spread just like I had many a time in a pool room. A fine old couple and I used to pass by their farm on the highway now and then. Tempted to visit but I didn't know them. We were kindred spirits though.
Hu
I just watched this guy bust the house pro while eating a sandwich
Eating a sammish and doing the funky chicken if I recall correctly! I wish somebody would put the whole episode up again. Uncle Phil was the man!
Hu
He used to go to Golds Gym in Hollywood in the early 90’s on Cole Street. He was a super nice guy, my friend was his trainer 8-9am 3 days a week. I only said hello to him, I never knew him.
Good memories
Fatboy
WobblyStroke
Well-known member
A career hustler I knew would spend hours practicing a 'good miss'. He had an uncanny ability of knowing when a guy is a dog to get out so he just let em try and mopped up the leavings. Every match against him felt like u were close and did it to yourself.
If a guy was too good to just eventually sell out, the good misses would come out amd he'd come off as a luckbox that just rolled up safe on his misses.
This approach kept him in action and under most people's radar.
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