Playing Off the Rail with Tony Annigoni

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jjohnson

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The last time I saw Tony was at Hard Times, Bellflower. He was playing Ismael "Morro" Paez in one of Hard Times' frequent tournaments. I bet Calvin $20 on Tony. Tony was playing very strong. And you need to, to beat Morro. But he missed a fairly routine shot just when he was about to seal the deal, and he couldn't recover from there, as Morro maintained his usual consistent strong play. Who knows. With pool players sometimes it's hard to say what's going on with them. When asked about it, he just brushed it off.

Anyway, Tony is the only player from my neck of the woods that I ever met at Hard Times so I was pleased to see him. I only met him once before at a pool hall he played out of off El Camino Real, I think it might have been in the Palo Alto area, around 1976 (or was it 1971.) He was an intense total hustler, all business, in it for the money player.

I had this book where he was prominently featured and asked him to sign it. This is the only autograph of anyone of any "renown" that I have ever gotten. I think it's pretty cool to have. But I really don't have much personal emotional attachment to it. I don't even know if it has any monetary value. But it is cool.

"Anthony, Don't believe everything you read... It was much worse than that. Good luck. Tony Annigoni."
 

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I read the book many years ago. It was insightful as to the reality of life on a hustler’s road. Tony saying that the reality was actually much worse makes a lot of sense- given some knowledge of what that world can be in truth.

In times throughout history since the 1920s - when there were enough rooms and enough action to sustain even a fringe existence—- the call of the wild to pick up a cue, put in the time, and then journey out into the jungle and the combat—— books and movies can only touch the fringes of such a reality of making a living.

Tony’s words about this hustler’s world and his own tragic ending , as was the case for so many other guys who ventured down this road, serve to remind us that constant risk can bring short term rewards, but often leads down a very narrow road to long term success and satisfaction.
 
Yes PLAYING OFF THE RAIL is a great book and a great title. I found this book in a hardback version in a public library - I enjoyed the read.
 
Relentless energy, good to be in his presence.
Often had Diarrhea of the mouth, not because it was bad.... Butt.......when he got goin' he never shut up, that's kinda of a trait of allot of pool players back then and now.
Last two times I was around em was.... 89 palm springs and in Los Angeles doing an 8 show shoot for a pool competition/w Ed Fugate.
And once at Stoniers place in N. Cal, where Fats showed up once. 76-81
Also matched up with Tony there.... 7 ahead 9 ball.

Movie.....

Tony couldn't stop telling the producer how to do his work.
We soon stopped production.
too much ''an ah gone knee.' goin' on. :)
He was always himself with a great smile and someone who you could trust, outside of a pool game. :)
 
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Never saw Tony in action, but Playing Off The Rail is the best book about the road life that I've ever read. What made it even more relatable were the cameos in there about shortstops I've played many times, like the late Danny Green and the late Jimmy McAdam (AKA Jimmy Mack). I got my copy from a book reviewer when it first came out, and by now I must have read it close to half a dozen times.
 
Still got my hard back copy. First time I played Tony was in Redwood City Ca. He did a first class job in setting up the Q-
Club (the old Cochrans) in San Francisco back in the early 90's.
 
Whenever I have heard about Tony Annigoni, I have thought again about a passage from Playing Off The Rail. I have posted it several times now, but maybe some new eyes will see it here. It's the best short thing I've ever read about the appeal of the game of pool (or billiards). Beauty ... heart ... renewal -- it's all there in two brief paragraphs.

Playing Off The Rail, by David McCumber, Random House, 1996, pages 276-277. It is presented as the author's thoughts while watching a masterfully played 9-ball match.​
​
"Tony broke, and made two balls, and I could see the table unfold in my mind, and I knew he could see it even better, and would run it. As he made the shots I was overpowered by the beauty of this game, at once immutably logical, governed by physical inevitabilities, and at the same time infinitely poetic and varied. This game at its best, as it was being played before me, had the transcendent power of a Handel chorus.​
​
I thought about what an impressive mental exercise it was for Tony, after a miserable session against an unremarkable player two hours earlier, to reinvent himself so completely. It was a question of heart, a gathering of everything stored inside a man, a refusal to fall after stumbling. It was a very rare thing for a player to take such advantage of the game's intrinsic quality of renewal, the fresh start with each match, each rack, each shot. Nothing pharmaceutical could ever exceed the jolt of bliss that comes with the self-mastery that sort of play entails: knowing the ball is going in, knowing the cue ball is going to stop precisely where you willed it to, knowing that the next shot is going in too. I thought of Willie Hoppe, running an astonishing twenty-five billiards in an exhibition in 1918, seeing all those rails and angles and spins and caroms in his head like presents waiting to be opened. It was no accident that Hoppe was the most disciplined and controlled player of his era. Power over the cue ball, over the object ball, is power over ourselves. It is the sweetest irony that pool has gathered the reputation of being a game for louts and idlers, when, to be played well, it demands such incredible discipline of movement, of thinking, of emotion."​
 
yea he lied and cheated the players at the peppermill tournament in reno about 15 years back. ruined his reputation and made casinos reluctant to let them have pool tournaments from not big name businesses.

his claim to fame was he played well but not top speed, and had few that liked his bullshit.
oh he is dead so all things should be sugar coated.
 
It was a great book. I believe the writer embellished a bit and made a few things up. A long time ago I brought up the book to Ernesto Dominguez mentioning that he was in it, and he smiled and said “that guy never beat me”. I later heard that a few other notable players in the book claimed what was said wasn’t true.

I actually got to meet Tony years later at a tournament. I didn’t bring up what Ernesto had told me but he did tell me outright that not everything in the book was true. He offered to sign my copy but I didn’t have it with me. I remember being in awe of how great his fundamentals were. He had a beautiful stroke.
 
Just another player Maha, making a buck in the pool world, tough nut to crack.
 
Who cares if your book has any monetary value or not? I'd guess it doesn't, but it sure is cool. Some things are just valuable, even if only to ourselves, and only for a time.

Nice post. Thanks for sharing.
 
AtLarge said:
Whenever I have heard about Tony Annigoni, I have thought again about a passage from Playing Off The Rail. I have posted it several times now, but maybe some new eyes will see it here. It's the best short thing I've ever read about the appeal of the game of pool (or billiards). Beauty ... heart ... renewal -- it's all there in two brief paragraphs.

Playing Off The Rail, by David McCumber, Random House, 1996, pages 276-277. It is presented as the author's thoughts while watching a masterfully played 9-ball match.​
​
"Tony broke, and made two balls, and I could see the table unfold in my mind, and I knew he could see it even better, and would run it. As he made the shots I was overpowered by the beauty of this game, at once immutably logical, governed by physical inevitabilities, and at the same time infinitely poetic and varied. This game at its best, as it was being played before me, had the transcendent power of a Handel chorus.​
​
I thought about what an impressive mental exercise it was for Tony, after a miserable session against an unremarkable player two hours earlier, to reinvent himself so completely. It was a question of heart, a gathering of everything stored inside a man, a refusal to fall after stumbling. It was a very rare thing for a player to take such advantage of the game's intrinsic quality of renewal, the fresh start with each match, each rack, each shot. Nothing pharmaceutical could ever exceed the jolt of bliss that comes with the self-mastery that sort of play entails: knowing the ball is going in, knowing the cue ball is going to stop precisely where you willed it to, knowing that the next shot is going in too. I thought of Willie Hoppe, running an astonishing twenty-five billiards in an exhibition in 1918, seeing all those rails and angles and spins and caroms in his head like presents waiting to be opened. It was no accident that Hoppe was the most disciplined and controlled player of his era. Power over the cue ball, over the object ball, is power over ourselves. It is the sweetest irony that pool has gathered the reputation of being a game for louts and idlers, when, to be played well, it demands such incredible discipline of movement, of thinking, of emotion."​
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It is a great piece of writing.
 
maha said:
yea bill but when you cheat your friends and those trusting you, then you drop down to the lowest in my book. some differ.
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No argument there.... that move was at his ''roots''.
Childhood....
 
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