This news hits me a little closer to my heart. George and I had a lot of battles together.
The first time I met him, he was sneaking around California in a motor home with Ted Harris. We ended up playing all sorts of different games -- scotch doubles, two against one, two on two, et cetera. He got me, hook, line, and sinker for about 25 to 30 dimes. I made him stay in town for about a month, hoping I'd win some of it back. I was willing to play him anything at that point, run backwards for the money if I had to.
I didn't know how good George played at the time I first met him with Ted, but after he left town, I sure did know who George San Souci was. In fact, I didn't even know where he was from, didn't really care at that time. I was full of energy and just wanted to play pool.
Anyway, he eventually went ahead and beat me even, laughing and giggling, loving life. George loved life, and we have remained the best of friends throughout the years. He's staked me lots of times when I was broke. He would go both ways. He'd bet on me, and he'd bet against me. That's the way gambling is supposed to be.
I will miss seeing him, that smiling face. May he rest in peace and never be forgotten. He was a great player, could play all games.
In this picture taken at the IPT King of the Hill, my flat feet were killing me. We had to wear these leather shoes. George always dressed in the best clothes, and he told me to get some Italian leather shoes, so I did, down there in Orlando. And he was right, as usual.