Jay Helfert on Gambling with an Edge

[alstl]

First year or two I was very unsmooth and often broke a cue stick to get to the door! A house stick was $12 and I kept a twenty in my shirt pocket to throw on the bar or counter on my way out so I was usually welcome back when I tested the waters in a few weeks or months. First thing I did going in a place was buy a drink for the bouncer or biggest guy in the place, I wanted them on my side or at least not on the other side! Bouncers I told if trouble started I was late for the door and just please don't get between me and the door.

A cue usually made a loud noise when it snapped and before people realized it wasn't a pistol shot I was well on my way to the door with the big end in hand. A friend of mine was an oilfield roughneck, 6'5", a big ol' boy. First time he was with me and we led a parade to my vehicle he freaked a bit. I considered that kinda normal! I realized I needed to clean up my act and I did. It is one thing to make a score and not be able to go back, another to be welcome over and over. I realized that you can only kill a sheep once but you can shear them many times.

I tried to be welcome to come back and got pretty good at it. People like Scotty Townsend not only got people to bet more than they ever had, he had them giving him a friendly escort out and an invite to come back anytime! He not only made a living on the road, he was a "star" everywhere he went! Most of the road players were somewhere between the two of us. They knew how to get in, get the cheese, get out.

One thing to do is to go in a place and simply say you are the best there. If you take their money then you can say you told them you were the best when you walked in! If you go to JoeyA's website you can find the story of when UJ Puckett stepped into the haunt of big time players for a hundred miles around. He threw a small satchel on a table or maybe emptied it on the table. "Fifteen thousand, any of it or all of it!" You could have heard a mouse fart!

I wasn't really a road player but I did travel a week or two here and there over the years. It is a feeling like no other to travel alone and step into the door of strange places. Are you going to make a nice friendly score and go on? Are things going to get rowdy before you can make a score, maybe afterwards? Funny thing, there is rarely any doubt you can make a score. If they first player or two they throw at you isn't their best they are gonna drop a dime and get him so the only question is do you play their best after you have a little buffer of their money or not. Either way you have to be able to win a lot more often than you lose. Most had road expenses and expenses back home so you had double expenses biting on your bankroll all of the time.

If I got beat I just moved on to the next place. I knew the odds were weighted my way in the long run. It didn't take a great player to hit the road, a "B" player or better could get it done. As Fats might say, it is the smarts that keep you going. While you hear about can't quit winner there is often a time to get off the pony. Losers are building a head of angry steam and the people around the table might be getting angry seeing their local guy getting beaten. A smart railbird might see more than the guy in the grease. One of the big reasons I liked to play by the game, you could drop a few games before quitting, you can't drop a few sets and come out ahead! I also liked to tell people well in advance that I had to leave at a certain time, then winning or losing I pack it in then. If winning I always told them I would be back and give them a chance at their money giving a time or time and date when it wasn't going to be that day. Sometimes I even came back!

One thing, I always went with instincts when alone or vastly outnumbered. Often the vibe of the place, not anything in particular said or done, told you it was time to get out of Dodge as cleanly as possible! Sometimes everybody was reasonably happy and you knew when it was time for leaving it would be fairly cool.

I had a chance to go on the road with a young Danny Medina long ago. I had a good thing going with my daytime activities and passed. I can't help wondering how my life would have been had I went down that path. The urge was strong when I was young, single, and free to travel myself but I eventually threw away his number just to get rid of temptation.

Hu

I remember Jay Helfert saying Danny Medina got robbed and hurt bad in Vegas. You might be fortunate you weren't with him at the time.

 

[straightline]

Ernesto and Hunter were robbed at Hsrd Times during their match. That tops it all.

I recall somebody telling me there was or were shootings to thwart robbery attempts.

 

[ShootingArts]

I remember Jay Helfert saying Danny Medina got robbed and hurt bad in Vegas. You might be fortunate you weren't with him at the time.

I don't know if this was in the same time frame that Danny got robbed or not. Of course what happened to one might not have happened to two also. Danny had the stones to travel alone fifteen hundred miles from home!

A cousin of mine by marriage had a pool cue broken across his back while he was bent over to shoot. Annoyed him a bit and he turned and hit the guy. The stranger flew a ways and piled up against the bar. JC isn't tall, not much more than five-two at a guess but he is almost as wide as he is tall. When the guy woke up and made it to his feet awhile later he was leaking pretty good so he told the bartender he needed a napkin, he had "busted his lip". The bartender looked at him, "He didn't bust your lip, all of your teeth are gone!" They were, at least all in the front of his mouth top and bottom.

I couldn't help thinking it didn't matter how strong or tough JC was, had the guy hit him across the neck or right where the skull joins the neck which is very thin he would have been killed or paralyzed. Made me kinda paranoid for awhile and I would take one of my friends with me that was just a banger but was very large to watch my back when I could. I was still often alone, just the way it is when you are in the streets seven nights a week.

One thing that might have discouraged thieves a little, we couldn't put the money on the light where everyone knew what was up there right down to the penny. Illegal to gamble at pool back then where I was at and if you put much on the light some butthole would call a cop buddy and the place would be raided for gambling and like in the Jerry Reed song, all of that money would be kept for evidence! What actually happened is that the cop and the snitch usually split it with maybe a little used to make a bust if it was a lot on the light and the cop wanted a bust. Even betting small with a fat wallet was risky so no money on the light, we just palmed if and passed it back and forth.

Still some dangers of course. I was thinking seriously about getting into the life in the early seventies. In a six month period one gambler was killed, one hit over the head hard enough he drooled for the rest of his life, and one lost a few yards of intestine. That wasn't a typical six months but it was enough to convince me that I didn't want to gamble full time although it seemed I could make as much gambling as working hard for a living. Even when I owned auto related businesses I was a hands on owner as much as possible and I always had to be the troubleshooter, fixing what my employees couldn't. Work was hard but far less risky than gambling full time.

The last I knew there was an interview with Danny Medina still up. A search should find it. The road can be a fun life when you are young, especially if you have a partner. When you get older it can become a grind and in truth living off of shooting pool isn't nearly as much fun as having a regular job or business and supplementing your income on a pool table. It was a blast to compete against the best you ran up against but you couldn't afford to spend much time with the toughest competition when you had bills to pay out of your winnings every month. I watched Danny make his nightly check-in call to his wife one evening. Sixteen hundred and fifty miles from home and busted, He just told his wife everything was fine then he talked to one or two children for a minute. I had to think the road wasn't any life for a family man.

Hu

 

[Tommy-D]

Tony Watson and his backer got robbed around the corner from J.O.B.'s in Nashville and wound up in the news after telling the cops that they had been on the road for months (including a 25k win over Eric Durbin at the Derby the year he won the Louie Roberts?) and between that and the score they just made that they had 38k in the car when they got to Waffle House and got a gun pulled on them by someone that called Tony by name,so whoever it was saw the score before they left the poolroom at least.

Needless to say,the cop wasn't buying it,and never did hear if they figured out who did it. Tommy D.

 

[ShootingArts]

Tony Watson and his backer got robbed around the corner from J.O.B.'s in Nashville and wound up in the news after telling the cops that they had been on the road for months (including a 25k win over Eric Durbin at the Derby the year he won the Louie Roberts?) and between that and the score they just made that they had 38k in the car when they got to Waffle House and got a gun pulled on them by someone that called Tony by name,so whoever it was saw the score before they left the poolroom at least.

Needless to say,the cop wasn't buying it,and never did hear if they figured out who did it. Tommy D.

Tough sale when you have large amounts of undisclosed cash. I was down to the police station and needed some cash. I told my brother-in-law where to look and to bring me what he found. Took the cops about six months to make that much so they wanted to know where a long haired bearded young man came by that much money. "Mine, I earned it, none of your business!" Not an answer they liked but it was a combination of some daytime earnings and pool table earnings and I didn't care to try to explain. Gambling was illegal but not the kind of thing they went after as long as it was private.

Hu

 

[jay helfert]

I remember Jay Helfert saying Danny Medina got robbed and hurt bad in Vegas. You might be fortunate you weren't with him at the time.

Danny got beat up pretty bad. His jaw had to be wired shut and he ate with a straw. Danny was a tough guy himself, but they ambushed him, one guy sucker punched him and then they both worked him over. Downtown Vegas used to be pretty bad at night. Danny had several surgeries and was never the same after that. After he got out of the hospital, he went home to Denver and his health gradually declined and maybe seven or eight years later he was gone.

 

[jay helfert]

First year or two I was very unsmooth and often broke a cue stick to get to the door! A house stick was $12 and I kept a twenty in my shirt pocket to throw on the bar or counter on my way out so I was usually welcome back when I tested the waters in a few weeks or months. First thing I did going in a place was buy a drink for the bouncer or biggest guy in the place, I wanted them on my side or at least not on the other side! Bouncers I told if trouble started I was late for the door and just please don't get between me and the door.

A cue usually made a loud noise when it snapped and before people realized it wasn't a pistol shot I was well on my way to the door with the big end in hand. A friend of mine was an oilfield roughneck, 6'5", a big ol' boy. First time he was with me and we led a parade to my vehicle he freaked a bit. I considered that kinda normal! I realized I needed to clean up my act and I did. It is one thing to make a score and not be able to go back, another to be welcome over and over. I realized that you can only kill a sheep once but you can shear them many times.

I tried to be welcome to come back and got pretty good at it. People like Scotty Townsend not only got people to bet more than they ever had, he had them giving him a friendly escort out and an invite to come back anytime! He not only made a living on the road, he was a "star" everywhere he went! Most of the road players were somewhere between the two of us. They knew how to get in, get the cheese, get out.

One thing to do is to go in a place and simply say you are the best there. If you take their money then you can say you told them you were the best when you walked in! If you go to JoeyA's website you can find the story of when UJ Puckett stepped into the haunt of big time players for a hundred miles around. He threw a small satchel on a table or maybe emptied it on the table. "Fifteen thousand, any of it or all of it!" You could have heard a mouse fart!

I wasn't really a road player but I did travel a week or two here and there over the years. It is a feeling like no other to travel alone and step into the door of strange places. Are you going to make a nice friendly score and go on? Are things going to get rowdy before you can make a score, maybe afterwards? Funny thing, there is rarely any doubt you can make a score. If they first player or two they throw at you isn't their best they are gonna drop a dime and get him so the only question is do you play their best after you have a little buffer of their money or not. Either way you have to be able to win a lot more often than you lose. Most had road expenses and expenses back home so you had double expenses biting on your bankroll all of the time.

If I got beat I just moved on to the next place. I knew the odds were weighted my way in the long run. It didn't take a great player to hit the road, a "B" player or better could get it done. As Fats might say, it is the smarts that keep you going. While you hear about can't quit winner there is often a time to get off the pony. Losers are building a head of angry steam and the people around the table might be getting angry seeing their local guy getting beaten. A smart railbird might see more than the guy in the grease. One of the big reasons I liked to play by the game, you could drop a few games before quitting, you can't drop a few sets and come out ahead! I also liked to tell people well in advance that I had to leave at a certain time, then winning or losing I pack it in then. If winning I always told them I would be back and give them a chance at their money giving a time or time and date when it wasn't going to be that day. Sometimes I even came back!

One thing, I always went with instincts when alone or vastly outnumbered. Often the vibe of the place, not anything in particular said or done, told you it was time to get out of Dodge as cleanly as possible! Sometimes everybody was reasonably happy and you knew when it was time for leaving it would be fairly cool.

I had a chance to go on the road with a young Danny Medina long ago. I had a good thing going with my daytime activities and passed. I can't help wondering how my life would have been had I went down that path. The urge was strong when I was young, single, and free to travel myself but I eventually threw away his number just to get rid of temptation.

Hu

Scotty was a tough guy himself and rather fearless. Not that big but far stronger than he looked. As for me I wasn't a good hustler. Often I would be playing the best player in the room first! Crazy huh, but I liked the competition. An interesting phenomena that I became aware of, is that often the locals would enjoy seeing their local champ get taken down. Remember this guy may have been beating on them for a long, long time. Frequently some of the local guys would befriend me after I beat their antagonist. Many times one of them would either tell me where I could find a good game or even take me there. That was usually good for a 10-20% tip if I made a little score. Worked for me more than once, better than tearing out the page of the phone book with all the pool hall listings.