More on Cochran's

Grady

Pro Player
Cochran's was a social thing, with all players of merit attending on weekends. They came from as far away as a couple of hundred miles and many didn't even need a room for the weekend. They stayed up.
During my second of three times around Cochran's I worked in Oakland for an outfit called Friction Materials Oakland. It was considered to be a pretty good job, with benefits and a future. It was demanding physical work.
I'd go to work on Friday morning at 7am and I got off at 4pm. I'd go home, clean up and go across the bay to Cochran's. Most of the time I stayed up the entire weekend and went to work on Monday morning. Then at 4pm
I'd go to sleep. That's 81 hours straight and I did it on the natch most of the time.
I literally improved sometimes while I was gambling. I'd have a talented player do something on me that I had never seen before and it would come up again in a long match and I'd do it to him better than he had executed it.
It's hard for me to believe that there are no pictures from the 7-11 era in NYC, the Cochran's time in san Francisco, the Tropicana Bowl or Daisy Mae period in LA. I'd sure love to have some to add to my "History Of Pool" show. If anyone has some please contact me.
 
I used to have over 800 photos of many of the pool rooms and players from 1966-to about 1975.../The Stardust tourneys/the Palace ..SF/ jointed Cue .. Sacramento/ Daisy Maes in Orange county / Bellflower Billiards/ the original Hard times in Costa Mesa/ and quite a few more around the LA area/ I even had a great photo of Shorty sitting with Luther having a cup of coffee and Peter Rabbit standing behind them/ and even a few of Grady at the MGM tourney in Vegas. ...unfortunately...these photos were all tossed out by a "FRIEND"....bummer...
 
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Cochran's 1967, and Paul Silva

Hey Grady -- In the summer of '67, I hitchhiked from Denver to Portland, then down to San Francisco, my sights set on Haight Ashbury and the Summer of Love. I'd been playing pool for the entire trip and carried a nice wad into Cochran's, where Bill Stroud was playing 9-ball, and his big dog Josh was prowling about.

I stepped across the street to the Palace, where I ran into a guy named Paul Silva. In two hours, he robbed me blind. I ended up panhandling in Haight Ashbury to raise enough dough to get home (by thumb).

I haven't seen much on the web about Silva, but you might notice that my screenname is his nickname. (I'm a Paul, too).

Got any Paul Silva stories? To my eye, he played like God. Thanks
 
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