To Grady
I have four stories I would like to share about Grady.
The first revolves around my moving to St. Louis in the early 90‘s, where they all played a strange game I’d heard about, but never played: one pocket. No nine ball, no eight ball, no straight pool. Maybe a little bit of three cushion when all the pool tables were tied up. If I wanted to play (gamle), it had to be one pocket. What was a girl to do?
I was lucky in that the pool room I frequented at the time rented out Accu-Stats cassettes and many, if not most of them were, blessedly, one pocket videos. And a great many of them featured the legendary Grady “The Professor” Mathews in the commentary booth with the equally infamous Billy Incardona
What a team -- truly, one of the great commentary duos in sports. And so, I became one of their many acolytes, learning the right way to take the balls off the table; obscure position plays; ingenious safties; bank shots; how to play the score; and so much more. For that alone I will forever be in your debt, Grady. You taught me the right way to play one pocket and, over the years, it has paid off handsomely for me. Thank you.
My second Grady story is when I finally got to meet the man himself, in a rather odd, out of the blue kinda way. It was at the 2000 US One Pocket Open held in Kalamazoo, MI. I had drawn Harry Platis as my first round opponent. Back when Joey was still talking to me, he and I and John Lavin threw in a $100 a man and as Harry and I were about to lag I asked him if he wanted to "put $300 on the match" and he happily obliged. What I didn’t know was that Grady also likes to wager with Harry.
The version of events that I heard was that Grady was in the stands and asked who Harry was playing his first round. When told it was some guy named Lou Figueroa, Grady asked, "Well, how does he play?" Tim from Airway Billiards in Dayton told him, "Well, he's a nice guy, and always shoots his best. You'd probably have to give him 10-8." Apparently, that was enough for Grady and though he'd never seen me play he offered Harry a $500 “sweat bet” on the match. When I ended up hearing that (right before the match), I winced when I heard the size of Grady's "gentlemanly" bet on the unknown horse.
Well, I beat Harry 4-2 and an eruption followed. Harry was steamed. As he paid off Grady, Harry yelled, "OK, I've got my nose wide open. You bird-dogged me with this guy. You want to back him? I'll play him right now for $5,000." Grady just got a barely perceptible look of amusement on his face as he accepted the payoff and said, "Why Harry, you and I gamble all the time. I was just offering you a little courtesy bet on this match. I've never seen the guy play before." Harry shot back, "Yeah, well now that you've seen him play, you want to stake him?" And Grady replied as he walked away with his winnings, "Harry, the only person I bet $5,000 on, is me."
Grady, I am still waiting on my “jelly” from that win. (Just kidding.)
My third story involves a trip to South Carolina and actually getting to play Grady at his room. Grady was the total gentleman and, of course, beat me like a red headed step child. We played for several hours and I swear he never missed a cross corner. Didn’t matter if my hole was surrounded by balls and a miss would incur a severe penalty -- they were all hangers to him and it was one of the more impressive displays of banking I’ve ever witnessed. But here’s the kicker: all the while, over the course of perhaps four hours, I had been playing every shot “by the book” One Pocket as taught by Grady on Accu-Stats, always shooting the right shot.
And then, after several hours of this, I took a flyer.
One shot that clearly I had no business shooting. Just a couple of shots later Grady won that game and then, without saying a word, unscrewed. Clearly I had offended him and the game he loves. I deserved it and I learned a valuable lesson that day: *always,* every shot, play the game right. Thank you for teaching me that too, Grady.
And my last story involves seeing Grady at the DCC this year. Of course I knew of his recent medical battle, but I was pleasantly surprised to see him looking great, in a bright red silk shirt, shaking hands with everyone, though he could barely rasp out many words, post radiation therapy. I went up to shake his hand and, I will never forget this, he warmly greeted me like an old lost buddy, “Why, it’s my good friend, Lou Figueroa.” And he turned to his friend sitting next to him and said, “Hell of a player, from St. Louis.” Thank you for that memory too, Grady.
I will miss you my friend. But, we are all eventually headed to that great last pool room. I look forward to inevitably seeing you there and the warm greeting I know you will offer me.
Lou Figueroa
