Most Memorable Match.

JoeyA

JoeyA

Efren's Mini-Tourn BACKER
Silver Member
I started to send Steve Lipsky a Private email and ask him to tell me the details of his most memorable match against Nick Varner and then I realized that other people would want to hear about other people's memorable matches.

So here's hoping that Steve will tell all.

Here's mine.

I think it was 1992. It was in Baton Rouge, LA hosted by Grady Mathew and one of the casinos on the Mississippi River. I had taken to one pocket and became enamored with it, playing it almost exclusively for about 10 years mostly getting weight from the local champs.

Myself and Paul Laplace decided to go have some fun and throw our hat in the ring. When would I ever be able to play a professional anyone/anything?

I decided that I would practice for 30 days playing by myself for at least 4-6 hours every day. I really didn't know all of the moves in one pocket at that time but I am a practicing masochistic degenerate and the marines had taught me self-discipline and I applied it religiously for 30 days non-stop prior to the tournament date. I didn't play anyone for those 30 days, just practiced by myself hitting ball after ball. People would ask me to play and I would politely say no and keep hitting the balls.

On tournament day, Paul and I showed up, with my stomach containing more butterflies than the whole country of Brazil. Paul and I separated as I have a tendency to do on tournament day and I found a table to pound some more balls. I was playing the best pool of my life at that moment in time and I knew it. The only problem is that no one else did so I would not be putting any fear in anyone but that didn't matter. I just wanted to do the best that I could.

My first match was against non other than Shannon Daulton. Shannon showed up for the match and probably looked me over like a piece of dessert. I won the flip or the lag and it was a race to 4. All I could think about was I wanted to play my best and let the chips fall where they may. I knew I was as prepared as I could be. I make a great break which Shannon couldn't get out of and win that first game. The next game Shannon makes a terrible break and I managed to win that one handily as well. The third game Shannon wins but struggles.
The fourth game goes to me and now I am up 3-1 against one of the best players in the world. I was on cloud nine.
The fifth game Shannon gets out of my break and promptly calls for a break and decides to take a 15 minute allowable break to cool my streak and let me sweat a little more. He leaves me at the table chilling and I don't like it but what can a guy do so I spot a table not in use and go over to the table and just start hitting balls into the holes not doing anything except trying to release the tension that was building in my body. My body was tight very tight almost like a coiled spring. I don't remember any rules at this time about practicing while your opponent takes a break but practice I did. I never stopped hitting balls until Shannon walked back up to the table and after he played a rather nice safety I banked a ball in the hole and got up on him like 6-2 and he howled and wailed and I just refused to listen and buried my eyes in the table intent on a mission and an opportunity of a lifetime. :-) Shannon complained about the table leaning and how lucky I was. They were both true and I wasn't going to discuss it with him and refused to talk or engage him with banter because I knew he was the better talker. I was petrified as I got close and close to my goal and played worse and worse but the lead was too great and managed to win the last game 8-5 and win the match.

Well you would have thought I had just slayed a dragon. The locals came out of the stands like I was a hero or something congratulating a somewhat stunned JoeyA. Shannon's girl friend got in a big argument with every around her who just happened to be Louisiana residents saying, "Shannon is a champion. You people just don't understand he is going to win this tournament." She had a few other choice words about the match and me but it was met with laughter and smiles. I shook Shannon's hand and practically apologized. He shook my hand and his head and walked away a little stunned as well.

What took place next was what made this the most memorable match of my life. Shannon went on to play out of the loser's bracket. Me, I took a nose bleed from Joe Salazaar who slow played his way to victory (I'll never forgive you for that Joe ;-) ) Grady had to call our match and make it a race to 3 because Joe was taking so much time to shoot. He got me out of stroke andbeat me 3-2 even though I come out of the gate pretty good on him. I lose my next match to Charlie Owens who caught a gear I had never seen before. He banked balls in at rocket speed from everywhere on the table. He just out shot and out played me and sent me to the sidelines to watch. I can't remember who Shannon played but it was a LOT of CHAMPIONS, one after the other and then I started thinking: My God, what if Shannon continues this winning streak and makes it to the finals and then plays for the TITLE. I would have been the only person to beat him in the tournament and then I thought that this would be unlikely and nearly impossible as there were champions eveywhere you looked. The thought still, raced through my head and now I couldn't even remember the name of even one of his opponents. I pulled every object ball he shot toward his hole and I willed the cue ball to obtain perfect shape each and every shot and it was like a dream as Shannon continued to pound on one opponent after another beating them all and winning THE LEGENDS OF ONE POCKET tournament for at least his second time. Shannon barely acknowledges me these days as I'm sure he realized that I just got lucky and luck can only carry you so far.

Alright Steve. I gave it my all. Let's here yours.
AND ALL OF THE REST OF YOU AZERS.......give it up. Let's hear about your most memorable match. You too, Travis Trotter.
JoeyA
 
JoeyA said:
I started to send Steve Lipsky a Private email and ask him to tell me the details of his most memorable match against Nick Varner and then I realized that other people would want to hear about other people's memorable matches.

So here's hoping that Steve will tell all.

Here's mine.

I think it was 1992. It was in Baton Rouge, LA hosted by Grady Mathew and one of the casinos on the Mississippi River. I had taken to one pocket and became enamored with it, playing it almost exclusively for about 10 years mostly getting weight from the local champs.

Myself and Paul Laplace decided to go have some fun and throw our hat in the ring. When would I ever be able to play a professional anyone/anything?

I decided that I would practice for 30 days playing by myself for at least 4-6 hours every day. I really didn't know all of the moves in one pocket at that time but I am a practicing masochistic degenerate and the marines had taught me self-discipline and I applied it religiously for 30 days non-stop prior to the tournament date. I didn't play anyone for those 30 days, just practiced by myself hitting ball after ball. People would ask me to play and I would politely say no and keep hitting the balls.

On tournament day, Paul and I showed up, with my stomach containing more butterflies than the whole country of Brazil. Paul and I separated as I have a tendency to do on tournament day and I found a table to pound some more balls. I was playing the best pool of my life at that moment in time and I knew it. The only problem is that no one else did so I would not be putting any fear in anyone but that didn't matter. I just wanted to do the best that I could.

My first match was against non other than Shannon Daulton. Shannon showed up for the match and probably looked me over like a piece of dessert. I won the flip or the lag and it was a race to 4. All I could think about was I wanted to play my best and let the chips fall where they may. I knew I was as prepared as I could be. I make a great break which Shannon couldn't get out of and win that first game. The next game Shannon makes a terrible break and I managed to win that one handily as well. The third game Shannon wins but struggles.
The fourth game goes to me and now I am up 3-1 against one of the best players in the world. I was on cloud nine.
The fifth game Shannon gets out of my break and promptly calls for a break and decides to take a 15 minute allowable break to cool my streak and let me sweat a little more. He leaves me at the table chilling and I don't like it but what can a guy do so I spot a table not in use and go over to the table and just start hitting balls into the holes not doing anything except trying to release the tension that was building in my body. My body was tight very tight almost like a coiled spring. I don't remember any rules at this time about practicing while your opponent takes a break but practice I did. I never stopped hitting balls until Shannon walked back up to the table and after he played a rather nice safety I banked a ball in the hole and got up on him like 6-2 and he howled and wailed and I just refused to listen and buried my eyes in the table intent on a mission and an opportunity of a lifetime. :-) Shannon complained about the table leaning and how lucky I was. They were both true and I wasn't going to discuss it with him and refused to talk or engage him with banter because I knew he was the better talker. I was petrified as I got close and close to my goal and played worse and worse but the lead was too great and managed to win the last game 8-5 and win the match.

Well you would have thought I had just slayed a dragon. The locals came out of the stands like I was a hero or something congratulating a somewhat stunned JoeyA. Shannon's girl friend got in a big argument with every around her who just happened to be Louisiana residents saying, "Shannon is a champion. You people just don't understand he is going to win this tournament." She had a few other choice words about the match and me but it was met with laughter and smiles. I shook Shannon's hand and practically apologized. He shook my hand and his head and walked away a little stunned as well.

What took place next was what made this the most memorable match of my life. Shannon went on to play out of the loser's bracket. Me, I took a nose bleed from Joe Salazaar who slow played his way to victory (I'll never forgive you for that Joe ;-) ) Grady had to call our match and make it a race to 3 because Joe was taking so much time to shoot. He got me out of stroke andbeat me 3-2 even though I come out of the gate pretty good on him. I lose my next match to Charlie Owens who caught a gear I had never seen before. He banked balls in at rocket speed from everywhere on the table. He just out shot and out played me and sent me to the sidelines to watch. I can't remember who Shannon played but it was a LOT of CHAMPIONS, one after the other and then I started thinking: My God, what if Shannon continues this winning streak and makes it to the finals and then plays for the TITLE. I would have been the only person to beat him in the tournament and then I thought that this would be unlikely and nearly impossible as there were champions eveywhere you looked. The thought still, raced through my head and now I couldn't even remember the name of even one of his opponents. I pulled every object ball he shot toward his hole and I willed the cue ball to obtain perfect shape each and every shot and it was like a dream as Shannon continued to pound on one opponent after another beating them all and winning THE LEGENDS OF ONE POCKET tournament for at least his second time. Shannon barely acknowledges me these days as I'm sure he realized that I just got lucky and luck can only carry you so far.

Alright Steve. I gave it my all. Let's here yours.
AND ALL OF THE REST OF YOU AZERS.......give it up. Let's hear about your most memorable match. You too, Travis Trotter.
JoeyA
Click to expand...

Nice!! Great story wish I had one as good but mine mostly end in defeat .
Philw
 
Great story Joey! That must have been such a thrill... it's what keeps us playing, I guess ;) Wish I was there to see you take him down!

The inaugural World Summit of Pool in 2003 was held in my home room of Amsterdam Billiards. The atmosphere in the days leading up to the tournament was electric... when your home room is the center of the pool universe, it's a wonderful thing. You get to share all your victories, your defeats, and your stories with all your friends. It's so much different than coming back from a big tournament and trying to relate all the stories to everyone. It's really very special.

So the tournament had 65 players in it, which meant two very unlucky people had to play a match just to get into the tournament proper. They did the draw the night before, and word spread like wildfire... Steve Lipsky vs. Nick Schulman. Not only two regulars of the room, but best friends no less. It was heartbreaking... we were both looking forward to the tournament for so long, and one of us was going to be on the loser's side before the first round. To make matters worse, the winner of our match would have to play Jonathan Smith in the next round. Jon was another great friend and another great player. Three months of anticipation and I was sick.

In the morning match, Nicky was off and I was on, and I got through with the victory. Later, I played Jon, and although the match was closer, I got past that one too. I should've been happy with my performance thus far but it was so bittersweet.

So my next match was against Mr. Varner, and it was slated for the night session... lots of spectators, and most of them (because of the home room) were probably pulling for me. Which made me want to vomit, lol. As I mentioned before, it's so different playing in front of a home crowd. Most of my "big tournament" experience thus far had been at things like the US Open, where whenever I played a big name I just figured people were hoping I'd lose so the superstar would advance, lol. This was much different, and it added a lot of pressure.

We started the match, and Nick was just so nice. He really is such a gentleman, a true tribute to the game. I got off to a great start, and was quickly up 6-2 in the race to 11. Running out the next game, I literally told myself something like, "Wow, I'm going to beat NICK VARNER easily!" My next shot I probably missed by about 17 diamonds (who knows, maybe I didn't even hit the object ball), and I told myself - "That's it... he smells weakness and he's going to torture me."

I tried to hang in there, but he was hitting me with a barrage. He made the score 10-8 in his favor. All the negative stuff was entering my mind, "you had him, and you let him go..." I wish I remember how I won my 9th game, but I don't.

The 10th game I ran out to the 9, and got too close on it. I played a good safe, which he returned fairly nicely given what he had. He left me sort of a spot shot, but with the cueball way down table. I popped it in, and in a rare display of emotion, sort of shook my stick to pump myself up.

I broke the hill game, and we sort of had a safe battle on the 1. I don't remember how I ended up with a shot on it, but I did... the only problem was that it was a tough shot and I couldn't decide if I wanted to really go for it, or just make it and settle with subpar position on the 2. I was going back and forth on it for quite a while, first aiming at the top of the cueball, prepared to shoot with soft speed - then switching to the bottom of the cueball, looking to fire it. I finally told myself that if I settled, the layout was such that I was going to slowly get more and more out of line. It made my decision. I was playing well, and I had to go with it.

I fired it in with low, coming off two rails for perfect position on the 2. From there, the out was there, though still a little touch-and-go, especially considering the situation. When I was on the 5, I noticed that Nicky and Ginky, who were playing on the table adjacent to me, had momentarily stopped their match to sweat me. That meant so much to me. I used the extra support, and got out, never getting out of line.

The place went berserk. It was only at that moment that I realized the whole room was watching that last game, not just the side of the room with my table. I was very cognizant of the fact that I wouldn't allow myself to show much emotion with Varner, because I didn't want to disrespect such a wonderful player. There was already a match in the tournament where a tri-state area underdog beat a heavily-favored player from the south and went NUTS right in his face. The heavily-favored player was later heard to say he was mortified by us New Yorkers, and given what happened to him, it was not hard to understand. So... I made sure to very deferentially shake Nick's hand and let my glee out a little later, among friends. I don't like losing to significant underdogs, and I'm sure Nick didn't either - but you wouldn't have seen it on his face. He was disappointed, but I'll say it a thousand times, he's such a gentleman and he said very nicely, "Nice match, Steve". If pool could melt the heart, there it was, man.

In a nice side-note, Nick Schulman went on to come in 9th in the tournament, all the way through the losers bracket. He did better than I did, winning a great match against Jimmy Wetch along the way.

The whole event was definitely my most memorable pro tournament ever.

- Steve

P.S. Thanks for letting me share the memory, Joey.
 
Steve Lipsky said:
Great story Joey! That must have been such a thrill... it's what keeps us playing, I guess ;) Wish I was there to see you take him down!

The inaugural World Summit of Pool in 2003 was held in my home room of Amsterdam Billiards. The atmosphere in the days leading up to the tournament was electric... when your home room is the center of the pool universe, it's a wonderful thing. You get to share all your victories, your defeats, and your stories with all your friends. It's so much different than coming back from a big tournament and trying to relate all the stories to everyone. It's really very special.

So the tournament had 65 players in it, which meant two very unlucky people had to play a match just to get into the tournament proper. They did the draw the night before, and word spread like wildfire... Steve Lipsky vs. Nick Schulman. Not only two regulars of the room, but best friends no less. It was heartbreaking... we were both looking forward to the tournament for so long, and one of us was going to be on the loser's side before the first round. To make matters worse, the winner of our match would have to play Jonathan Smith in the next round. Jon was another great friend and another great player. Three months of anticipation and I was sick.

In the morning match, Nicky was off and I was on, and I got through with the victory. Later, I played Jon, and although the match was closer, I got past that one too. I should've been happy with my performance thus far but it was so bittersweet.

So my next match was against Mr. Varner, and it was slated for the night session... lots of spectators, and most of them (because of the home room) were probably pulling for me. Which made me want to vomit, lol. As I mentioned before, it's so different playing in front of a home crowd. Most of my "big tournament" experience thus far had been at things like the US Open, where whenever I played a big name I just figured people were hoping I'd lose so the superstar would advance, lol. This was much different, and it added a lot of pressure.

We started the match, and Nick was just so nice. He really is such a gentleman, a true tribute to the game. I got off to a great start, and was quickly up 6-2 in the race to 11. Running out the next game, I literally told myself something like, "Wow, I'm going to beat NICK VARNER easily!" My next shot I probably missed by about 17 diamonds (who knows, maybe I didn't even hit the object ball), and I told myself - "That's it... he smells weakness and he's going to torture me."

I tried to hang in there, but he was hitting me with a barrage. He made the score 10-8 in his favor. All the negative stuff was entering my mind, "you had him, and you let him go..." I wish I remember how I won my 9th game, but I don't.

The 10th game I ran out to the 9, and got too close on it. I played a good safe, which he returned fairly nicely given what he had. He left me sort of a spot shot, but with the cueball way down table. I popped it in, and in a rare display of emotion, sort of shook my stick to pump myself up.

I broke the hill game, and we sort of had a safe battle on the 1. I don't remember how I ended up with a shot on it, but I did... the only problem was that it was a tough shot and I couldn't decide if I wanted to really go for it, or just make it and settle with subpar position on the 2. I was going back and forth on it for quite a while, first aiming at the top of the cueball, prepared to shoot with soft speed - then switching to the bottom of the cueball, looking to fire it. I finally told myself that if I settled, the layout was such that I was going to slowly get more and more out of line. It made my decision. I was playing well, and I had to go with it.

I fired it in with low, coming off two rails for perfect position on the 2. From there, the out was there, though still a little touch-and-go, especially considering the situation. When I was on the 5, I noticed that Nicky and Ginky, who were playing on the table adjacent to me, had momentarily stopped their match to sweat me. That meant so much to me. I used the extra support, and got out, never getting out of line.

The place went berserk. It was only at that moment that I realized the whole room was watching that last game, not just the side of the room with my table. I was very cognizant of the fact that I wouldn't allow myself to show much emotion with Varner, because I didn't want to disrespect such a wonderful player. There was already a match in the tournament where a tri-state area underdog beat a heavily-favored player from the south and went NUTS right in his face. The heavily-favored player was later heard to say he was mortified by us New Yorkers, and given what happened to him, it was not hard to understand. So... I made sure to very deferentially shake Nick's hand and let my glee out a little later, among friends. I don't like losing to significant underdogs, and I'm sure Nick didn't either - but you wouldn't have seen it on his face. He was disappointed, but I'll say it a thousand times, he's such a gentleman and he said very nicely, "Nice match, Steve". If pool could melt the heart, there it was, man.

In a nice side-note, Nick Schulman went on to come in 9th in the tournament, all the way through the losers bracket. He did better than I did, winning a great match against Jimmy Wetch along the way.

The whole event was definitely my most memorable pro tournament ever.

- Steve

P.S. Thanks for letting me share the memory, Joey.
Click to expand...

And a great memory it was, Steve. You too have CLASS.
Thanks,
JoeyA
 
philw said:
Nice!! Great story wish I had one as good but mine mostly end in defeat .
Philw
Click to expand...

Hey Phil, it doesn't have to be a win, just a match that you remember vividly.
Give it up, man.
JoeyA
 
I have seen many a memorable match in the past several years, and it is hard to pick a favorite. :p

One tournament I will never forget took place in April 16-17, 2004, at the Golden Cue in Albany, New York. I was a broke dog and didn't want to go to the Joss event because I had just paid out a huge amount of taxes to Uncle Sam.

However, for the love of pool and my counterpart, I bit the bullet and drove up to Albany, hoping for the best. After all, the Joss tournaments occur on the weekend, so how much could we get stuck, I figured.

We went to the Golden Cue early, before the high noon cut-off time, so that Keith could get a little practice in. Soon the players began to arrive, and it was an all-star cast, with some of the best guns in Yankee Country, to include Jerry Slivka, Karen Corr, Julie Kelly, Kid Delicious, Santos, Danny Hewitt, Pooky, Mike Davis, Frankie Hernandez, Ryan McCreesh, Tony Ruberto, and Mike Zuglan, just to name a few.

The tournament was full of excellent match-ups. Ryan McCreesh was getting ready to knock Keith in the losers' bracket in this double-elimination format, with a straight-in shot on the 9-ball in the side pocket. Maybe it was the pool gods that Saturday that were on Keith's side because Ryan miscued badly, and the 9-ball popped straight up in the air and landed on the floor. Keith swooped in and took the set. You could have fried an egg on Ryan's head at that moment. :mad:

But now I come to the match that I will always remember. It was between Spanish Pete and Frankie Hernanez, both from the Big Apple. Frankie was hitting 'em strong that weekend and was plowing right through Spanish Pete. Frankie seemed to be unbeatable.

Racing to 9, Frankie had Pete stuck 8 to 2. Spanish Pete was sitting in his chair looking quite dejected, like he gave up, and just when it should have been all over, Frankie missed the case shot, leaving Pete a safety. :eek:

Frankie, thinking it was a done deal, then began to unscrew his stick and pack his gear. Spanish Pete looked at him in disbelief and decided to show Frankie a thing or two. He glared at Frankie long and hard. It was as if he got a second wind. Spanish Pete won the next 7 games in record time, defeating the cocky Frankie Hernandez, 9 to 8, as Frankie never won another game, knocking him in the loser's bracket. :o

I was standing outside smoking a butt, when I saw Spanish Pete exit the premises to light up. He was still shaking from the set, but he was one proud man. He told me, "I couldn't believe that guy, just packing up his gear like I was dead meat. He disrespected me, and that's all I needed to get back in stroke." The moral of this story is don't ever give up the ship until it's sunk. ;)

But my story doesn't end there, even though that is one of my favorite matches of all time. By Sunday, Keith was still on the winners' side, bless his little heart, and me, I'm happy as can be that he made the money rounds, thinking we were going to come home at least winner for the weekend. Ka-ching! :D

Soon the pool room filled up. Folks were enjoying the Italian delicacies provided by the owner, Rocco Spinelli, and his family, and it was standing room only. Even the tavern next door, Joe's Grill, emptied out, as all the patrons walked over to see the finals. Keith had made a few friends at Joe's Grill between matches, and he must have left an impression because they were all pulling for him. :cool:

Keith advanced to the finals, but who should he have to face, none other than Frankie Hernandez. I knew it was going to be a bloody battle. First place paid $1,620, and second place was $1,200. Having just cleaned out my checking account for the IRS, we really needed those monies to survive. :(

Keith had the crowd on his side, which is quite deadly for any opponent of his when this happens. It fueled Keith's engines, and he was ready to fly. Julie Kelly and Karen Corr came to sweat the finals match. Between shots, he'd bellow out to Julie sitting on the rail, "How do you like me now, Julie?" Julie and Karen were giggling throughout the finals. Keith really likes Karen and Julie a lot. :)

Soon Keith came to the pivatol shot for the almighty win, and I was sitting on pins and needles, but he fired at it and won. He immediately turned around and looked at me. The expression of his face was one of pure happiness, so proud that he put some much-needed monies in our pockets. It was one of the sweetest wins for me on the tournament trail. Actually, the whole tournament was pretty cool! :p

Here's a picture page of the event: http://hometown.aol.com/jamalloy/JossTourStopNo21-AlbanyNY.html

JAM
 
Great stories. I have this chick friend that I hangout with and one night this goober(ex-boy friend) at a pool hall would not leave her alone so she told him if he could beat me she would leave with him and it would be "just like old times for that night." I don't recall much about the pool match other than I beat the guy pretty soundly....Don't think I'll ever forget that night though as she is very valuable to me and it was an interesting evening:)
 
JAM said:
I have seen many a memorable match in the past several years, and it is hard to pick a favorite. :p

One tournament I will never forget took place in April 16-17, 2004, at the Golden Cue in Albany, New York. I was a broke dog and didn't want to go to the Joss event because I had just paid out a huge amount of taxes to Uncle Sam.

However, for the love of pool and my counterpart, I bit the bullet and drove up to Albany, hoping for the best. After all, the Joss tournaments occur on the weekend, so how much could we get stuck, I figured.

We went to the Golden Cue early, before the high noon cut-off time, so that Keith could get a little practice in. Soon the players began to arrive, and it was an all-star cast, with some of the best guns in Yankee Country, to include Jerry Slivka, Karen Corr, Julie Kelly, Kid Delicious, Santos, Danny Hewitt, Pooky, Mike Davis, Frankie Hernandez, Ryan McCreesh, Tony Ruberto, and Mike Zuglan, just to name a few.

The tournament was full of excellent match-ups. Ryan McCreesh was getting ready to knock Keith in the losers' bracket in this double-elimination format, with a straight-in shot on the 9-ball in the side pocket. Maybe it was the pool gods that Saturday that were on Keith's side because Ryan miscued badly, and the 9-ball popped straight up in the air and landed on the floor. Keith swooped in and took the set. You could have fried an egg on Ryan's head at that moment. :mad:

But now I come to the match that I will always remember. It was between Spanish Pete and Frankie Hernanez, both from the Big Apple. Frankie was hitting 'em strong that weekend and was plowing right through Spanish Pete. Frankie seemed to be unbeatable.

Racing to 9, Frankie had Pete stuck 8 to 2. Spanish Pete was sitting in his chair looking quite dejected, like he gave up, and just when it should have been all over, Frankie missed the case shot, leaving Pete a safety. :eek:

Frankie, thinking it was a done deal, then began to unscrew his stick and pack his gear. Spanish Pete looked at him in disbelief and decided to show Frankie a thing or two. He glared at Frankie long and hard. It was as if he got a second wind. Spanish Pete won the next 7 games in record time, defeating the cocky Frankie Hernandez, 9 to 8, as Frankie never won another game, knocking him in the loser's bracket. :o

I was standing outside smoking a butt, when I saw Spanish Pete exit the premises to light up. He was still shaking from the set, but he was one proud man. He told me, "I couldn't believe that guy, just packing up his gear like I was dead meat. He disrespected me, and that's all I needed to get back in stroke." The moral of this story is don't ever give up the ship until it's sunk. ;)

But my story doesn't end there, even though that is one of my favorite matches of all time. By Sunday, Keith was still on the winners' side, bless his little heart, and me, I'm happy as can be that he made the money rounds, thinking we were going to come home at least winner for the weekend. Ka-ching! :D

Soon the pool room filled up. Folks were enjoying the Italian delicacies provided by the owner, Rocco Spinelli, and his family, and it was standing room only. Even the tavern next door, Joe's Grill, emptied out, as all the patrons walked over to see the finals. Keith had made a few friends at Joe's Grill between matches, and he must have left an impression because they were all pulling for him. :cool:

Keith advanced to the finals, but who should he have to face, none other than Frankie Hernandez. I knew it was going to be a bloody battle. First place paid $1,620, and second place was $1,200. Having just cleaned out my checking account for the IRS, we really needed those monies to survive. :(

Keith had the crowd on his side, which is quite deadly for any opponent of his when this happens. It fueled Keith's engines, and he was ready to fly. Julie Kelly and Karen Corr came to sweat the finals match. Between shots, he'd bellow out to Julie sitting on the rail, "How do you like me now, Julie?" Julie and Karen were giggling throughout the finals. Keith really likes Karen and Julie a lot. :)

Soon Keith came to the pivatol shot for the almighty win, and I was sitting on pins and needles, but he fired at it and won. He immediately turned around and looked at me. The expression of his face was one of pure happiness, so proud that he put some much-needed monies in our pockets. It was one of the sweetest wins for me on the tournament trail. Actually, the whole tournament was pretty cool! :p

Here's a picture page of the event: http://hometown.aol.com/jamalloy/JossTourStopNo21-AlbanyNY.html

JAM
Click to expand...
That's a great story and some nice pictures JAM, thanks for sharing.
 
JAM, what a nice collage of memories. Thanks for sharing. The music on the web site was NICE. Keith looks so happy in the pictures you take, as he should be. There should be a thread about WHEN ALL IS LOST to depict the stories of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. I really liked the story about Spanish Pete feeling like he was being disrespected by Frankie and he was. I like Spanish Pete even though I have never met him. What is his age or better yet what was his age abd Frankie's age when this event occurred?
Thanks,
JoeyA
 
Dead Money said:
Great stories. I have this chick friend that I hangout with and one night this goober(ex-boy friend) at a pool hall would not leave her alone so she told him if he could beat me she would leave with him and it would be "just like old times for that night." I don't recall much about the pool match other than I beat the guy pretty soundly....Don't think I'll ever forget that night though as she is very valuable to me and it was an interesting evening:)
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That's what I call betting it up. VBG
JoeyA
 
The finals of the US Open, TKO against the scorpion. God was in the room and Tommy was seeing grapefruits that day. His run to the finals was littered with allot of wins (Incardona booked allot of losers with me that day), but the finals were special.
 
My most memorable match came at the 2001 U.S. Open. The one and only time I've ever played in that event.

My first loss came at the hands of Charlie Williams. I won the lag and proceeded to break in the 9. Cool, this guy ain't so tough, I thought. :-) Well, I came up dry on the next break, and next time I shot I was down something like 7-1 and looking at a 2 rail kick, jacked-up stuck to the rail. :) Anyway, I lose like 11-2 or 11-3. I remember being stuck in the chair, thinking like that PGA commerical... "These guys are good".

So on to the B side, I beat a couple guys whose names I don't recognize and I'm like 2 matches away from the money now. I look at the board for my next match, and there's another name I don't recognize, cool!

Scott Smith is doing his usual great job with the introductions, pumping up the crowd and getting huge applause for all the great players in the room. He gets to my table, announces me first, and gets.... dead silence. Then he utters the phrase I'll never forget: "And his opponent, the reigning European 9-ball Champion... Rico Diks!" Huge applause, and a few guys right behind me in the stands are going nuts. I glance back at them, and there is Mika, Ralf, and a couple other European players. My inner monologue from this point to the lag was not only comical, but probably would have gotten me commited for schizophrenia. :)

I hit the lag so bad, I didn't even let my ball stop rolling, I just grabbed it and went to rack. Rico stood there, admiring his lag before finally sending me the ball. I rack, hit the seat and Rico cracks it open, getting dead straight in on the one. I'm still sitting there, and finally Rico goes and sits down. Oh snap! He didn't make a ball. I was so out of it, I didn't even notice. Anyhow, I remember I got out to go up 1-0. I don't remember much from there to 6-5 my favor. At this point, I took my break and came back refreshed and put together a nice little 3-pack to go up 9-5. Three games later, it's 10-7 me, and Rico breaks dry. It's a pretty tough out, with the 5 in a bad spot, I remember thinking, if I can get straight on the 4, I'm gonna fire that bank on the 5 cross-side and this thing will be over. Sure enough, that's what I did. :)

The reason this match is so memorable for me isn't because I beat the European 9-ball Champion, it's because that day I learned that I could quiet that inner voice that had been my worst enemy.
 
I_Need_D_8 said:
...that day I learned that I could quiet that inner voice that had been my worst enemy.
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Every once in a while, a great truth is found in a single sentence. Thanks Robert, we can all learn from that.

- Steve
 
JoeyA said:
JAM, what a nice collage of memories. Thanks for sharing. The music on the web site was NICE. Keith looks so happy in the pictures you take, as he should be. There should be a thread about WHEN ALL IS LOST to depict the stories of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. I really liked the story about Spanish Pete feeling like he was being disrespected by Frankie and he was. I like Spanish Pete even though I have never met him. What is his age or better yet what was his age abd Frankie's age when this event occurred?
Thanks,
JoeyA
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Pete would be about 46 now, so he would have been 43. He's been a strong player for a while now, but has never played the game full time, so he has not made the impact that he could have.

I spoke to him a few weeks after that match and he was still aglow about that incredible victory!

Edit: I don't know Frankie's exact age, but he's somewhat younger. I'd put him in his late thirties.
 
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JoeyA said:
JAM, what a nice collage of memories. Thanks for sharing. The music on the web site was NICE. Keith looks so happy in the pictures you take, as he should be. There should be a thread about WHEN ALL IS LOST to depict the stories of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. I really liked the story about Spanish Pete feeling like he was being disrespected by Frankie and he was. I like Spanish Pete even though I have never met him. What is his age or better yet what was his age abd Frankie's age when this event occurred?
Thanks,
JoeyA
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Spanish Pete is a real gem of a player. He's one of the good guys, and even though he hails from Yankee Country, he's still tops in my book! :D

If you look at my picture page again, Joey, Spanish Pete is definitely one of "New York's best-kept secrets." ;)

JAM
 
I actually have two that really stick out for me for two totally different reasons...

1) About 1990 or so I was playing in the New Mexico State 9-Ball Championships in Albuquerque. My first round opponent was "Cowboy" Jimmy Moore. Now, of course, I knew Jimmy quite well by reputation and had even been introduced to him prior to this tournament, but he had no clue who I was and I'm sure he couldn't have cared less.

Well, for the first time in my fledgling pool career I hit absolute DEAD PUNCH in that race to 7 and beat Jimmy 7-1 in front of a shocked and somewhat angry partisan crowd. I know he wasn't the player he had been in the past, but he was the first player of any note I had ever beaten and I was thrilled to say the least.

2) Years later in San Antonio (ca. 1995) I was playing in a McDermott Tour stop at Galaxy Billiards. I was in the loser's bracket, depressed about my previous loss and just looking for any reason to get on with my long trip back home.

I was playing a young local in front of every person he ever knew it seemed. His family was there, his friends, his backers... Well, in short order I am down 8-0 in a race to 9 and he is breaking for the match. He blows the rack apart, makes the 9... and SCRATCHES! (100% true story).

I run the rack and over the course of the next few games make the 9 on the break a couple of times, hit a combo, break and run and play a couple of good safes to win games and get the match to 8-7. The crowd around our table had gotten quite large and there was a buzz in the room that someone had a good chance to come back from 8-0 down.

With the score 8-7 I broke dry and my opponent calmly stepped to the table and started running balls like a champion. He gets down on the 7 ball and DOGS it trying to shoot it straight into the corner. The rail went totally nuts when he missed and I had to wait a couple of minutes to shoot. I make the 3 remaining balls and we are 8-8.

I decide to gather myself in the bathroom and I come back out to try and break the balls and make some personal history. And here comes the funny part... The last game looked like it was played by a couple of students from the School for the Blind. I would love to tell you that one of us stepped up and showed the heart of a champion, but the two of us each had about five chances to win the game and we just kept dogging balls all over the place.

Well, I did end up making the 9 ball to a thunderous collective groan and did, indeed, come back from an 8-0 deficit to win 9-8. I won my next match to put me in the money, but lost right after that.

That match will always stick with me because it was my most personal experience with "Never, Ever, Quit."

I think it takes a combination of skill and luck to win a match like that, but you have to first be open to the possibility and I am thankful that I was.
 
McKinneyMiner said:
I actually have two that really stick out for me for two totally different reasons...

1) About 1990 or so I was playing in the New Mexico State 9-Ball Championships in Albuquerque. My first round opponent was "Cowboy" Jimmy Moore. Now, of course, I knew Jimmy quite well by reputation and had even been introduced to him prior to this tournament, but he had no clue who I was and I'm sure he couldn't have cared less.

Well, for the first time in my fledgling pool career I hit absolute DEAD PUNCH in that race to 7 and beat Jimmy 7-1 in front of a shocked and somewhat angry partisan crowd. I know he wasn't the player he had been in the past, but he was the first player of any note I had ever beaten and I was thrilled to say the least.

2) Years later in San Antonio (ca. 1995) I was playing in a McDermott Tour stop at Galaxy Billiards. I was in the loser's bracket, depressed about my previous loss and just looking for any reason to get on with my long trip back home.

I was playing a young local in front of every person he ever knew it seemed. His family was there, his friends, his backers... Well, in short order I am down 8-0 in a race to 9 and he is breaking for the match. He blows the rack apart, makes the 9... and SCRATCHES! (100% true story).

I run the rack and over the course of the next few games make the 9 on the break a couple of times, hit a combo, break and run and play a couple of good safes to win games and get the match to 8-7. The crowd around our table had gotten quite large and there was a buzz in the room that someone had a good chance to come back from 8-0 down.

With the score 8-7 I broke dry and my opponent calmly stepped to the table and started running balls like a champion. He gets down on the 7 ball and DOGS it trying to shoot it straight into the corner. The rail went totally nuts when he missed and I had to wait a couple of minutes to shoot. I make the 3 remaining balls and we are 8-8.

I decide to gather myself in the bathroom and I come back out to try and break the balls and make some personal history. And here comes the funny part... The last game looked like it was played by a couple of students from the School for the Blind. I would love to tell you that one of us stepped up and showed the heart of a champion, but the two of us each had about five chances to win the game and we just kept dogging balls all over the place.

Well, I did end up making the 9 ball to a thunderous collective groan and did, indeed, come back from an 8-0 deficit to win 9-8. I won my next match to put me in the money, but lost right after that.

That match will always stick with me because it was my most personal experience with "Never, Ever, Quit."

I think it takes a combination of skill and luck to win a match like that, but you have to first be open to the possibility and I am thankful that I was.
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I believe I remember that match. I was the general manager of Galaxy Billiards at the time. The crowd really went nuts!
 
My most memorable is and always will be every time I had the opportunity to play against Cowboy Jimmy Moore. He was one of the greatest EVER and provided me with a vast amount of knowledge,entertainment, and good advice. Thanks for that story Jeff - it brought back a lot of good memories.
 
JAM said:
Spanish Pete is a real gem of a player. He's one of the good guys, and even though he hails from Yankee Country, he's still tops in my book! :D

If you look at my picture page again, Joey, Spanish Pete is definitely one of "New York's best-kept secrets." ;)

JAM
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OH! I did see his picture but didn't know and he remained NY best kept secret until just now. I thought Spanish Pete might have been Lebron, the dumbass that I am. :o :D

JoeyA
 
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