Thanks again for your interest in this crazy era of my life.
Okay, somewhere around '94? I was engaged and made a deal with my bride to be. I was gonna take $2000'ish? and go trout fishing in Red River Arkansas. Now, the deal was, I was gonna play pool all of the way there and all of the way back. This would be my last road trip as a single guy. Might be back in a week, might be a month. Whenever I got down to $500, I had to come home. That was the arrangement.
So, I left Asheville on a Thursday, early in the morning. I was gonna take Hwy40 the whole way. My 300zx was packed down with all kinds of gear, including a Tim Scruggs Sneaky and Schon Limited. Man, I was excited. Well, my first stop was in Knoxville. Now, I will condense the parts leading up to Little Rock, Arkansas. (For the more detailed, wait for the publishing of "Clouded, A Collection of Tales and Billiards") Anyway, I picked up around $400 in the bars and headed for Nashville.
Nashville, it is Saturday night. I wore a suit into JOB and had a fine young gentleman hustle me giving me the seven, eight and the break. Sidenote: just because a guy is in a tie, doesn't mean he's a tourist or vic (victim). Anyway, I ended up playing him even and charging him around $300. Man, I was on a roll. I was buying drinks for people and eating out like I had inherited a sultan's oil field. Anyway, on to Red River for the trout. I had planned to fish and then play my way back.
I get to Red River and the whole area is flooded. I was pissed to say the least. Well, there's always pool. So, I made my way to Little Rock and began my usual sh#@. The first poolroom, I used line #12. "I'm here for lessons." A young man prompted me to a large, hat-wearing guy who wanted to charge me $50 an hour. "No, I'm here to give'em." I had already clocked everyone in the room. Bottom line, I win around $200? He politely tells me he quits and directs me to a poolroom/bar where there's "plenty of action."
I think it was the Silver Dollar or some sh#$ like that. Anyhow, I walk in and put my Kmart box case with the Scruggs beside me and order a Bud. (Evidently you guys in Arkansas only have Budweiser because the bartender looked at me like "city folk" when I asked for a Natural Light.) I tall guy came up and asked me if I was looking for action. "Sure, something cheap." "Well, you can play Sam some." Now, Sam looked Hispanic and kind of quiet. In my past experience, you leave those guys alone. But, being up for the trip and set on go, I said, "Sure, what's the bet?" Sam says, "Race to nine on the bartable for $200?" (May have been $300, can't recall) "Let's get it on."
9-2 or 9-1, can't remember. This guy was a machine. Pissed, I asked him to tee it up again. 9-3? 9-2? I can't remember. I do know I was down 2 sets and had made only two mistakes. So, now I ask to take a break and I stepped outside and call Mike Coltrain. "Hey, what's he look like?" I describe him. "Where are you again? Dude, there's a big tournament going on next week. You are describing Rudolfo Luat. Go back in and ask him to raise the bet and say 'Rudolfo' to him. Oh yeah, you might need a little more than you need from me."
"Hey, Rudolfo. Wanna raise the bet and give up something." "Sure, what do you want?" I was fu#4ed. Mentally, and drunk as a skunk. It's 2:00 am and I'm in the middle of nowhere. Pissed and had enough, I got into the car and headed for the mountains of NC. I fu@#ing drove straight through. I even held my head out of the window for the first hour. I'm not sure what time it was when I got back, but my fiance' was laughing at the door. I had been calling her the whole way. It was in the teens of hours drive, but man was I happy to get back home. Looking back, the whole trip was great except I didn't get to fish and got punked on the place I thought I was the favorite.
Rudolfo can play, boys. He can play. And...his name isn't Sam. And... not all people that look Hispanic are Hispanic, some are Pinoy. Don't fu#4 with the Pinoys.
Okay, somewhere around '94? I was engaged and made a deal with my bride to be. I was gonna take $2000'ish? and go trout fishing in Red River Arkansas. Now, the deal was, I was gonna play pool all of the way there and all of the way back. This would be my last road trip as a single guy. Might be back in a week, might be a month. Whenever I got down to $500, I had to come home. That was the arrangement.
So, I left Asheville on a Thursday, early in the morning. I was gonna take Hwy40 the whole way. My 300zx was packed down with all kinds of gear, including a Tim Scruggs Sneaky and Schon Limited. Man, I was excited. Well, my first stop was in Knoxville. Now, I will condense the parts leading up to Little Rock, Arkansas. (For the more detailed, wait for the publishing of "Clouded, A Collection of Tales and Billiards") Anyway, I picked up around $400 in the bars and headed for Nashville.
Nashville, it is Saturday night. I wore a suit into JOB and had a fine young gentleman hustle me giving me the seven, eight and the break. Sidenote: just because a guy is in a tie, doesn't mean he's a tourist or vic (victim). Anyway, I ended up playing him even and charging him around $300. Man, I was on a roll. I was buying drinks for people and eating out like I had inherited a sultan's oil field. Anyway, on to Red River for the trout. I had planned to fish and then play my way back.
I get to Red River and the whole area is flooded. I was pissed to say the least. Well, there's always pool. So, I made my way to Little Rock and began my usual sh#@. The first poolroom, I used line #12. "I'm here for lessons." A young man prompted me to a large, hat-wearing guy who wanted to charge me $50 an hour. "No, I'm here to give'em." I had already clocked everyone in the room. Bottom line, I win around $200? He politely tells me he quits and directs me to a poolroom/bar where there's "plenty of action."
I think it was the Silver Dollar or some sh#$ like that. Anyhow, I walk in and put my Kmart box case with the Scruggs beside me and order a Bud. (Evidently you guys in Arkansas only have Budweiser because the bartender looked at me like "city folk" when I asked for a Natural Light.) I tall guy came up and asked me if I was looking for action. "Sure, something cheap." "Well, you can play Sam some." Now, Sam looked Hispanic and kind of quiet. In my past experience, you leave those guys alone. But, being up for the trip and set on go, I said, "Sure, what's the bet?" Sam says, "Race to nine on the bartable for $200?" (May have been $300, can't recall) "Let's get it on."
9-2 or 9-1, can't remember. This guy was a machine. Pissed, I asked him to tee it up again. 9-3? 9-2? I can't remember. I do know I was down 2 sets and had made only two mistakes. So, now I ask to take a break and I stepped outside and call Mike Coltrain. "Hey, what's he look like?" I describe him. "Where are you again? Dude, there's a big tournament going on next week. You are describing Rudolfo Luat. Go back in and ask him to raise the bet and say 'Rudolfo' to him. Oh yeah, you might need a little more than you need from me."
"Hey, Rudolfo. Wanna raise the bet and give up something." "Sure, what do you want?" I was fu#4ed. Mentally, and drunk as a skunk. It's 2:00 am and I'm in the middle of nowhere. Pissed and had enough, I got into the car and headed for the mountains of NC. I fu@#ing drove straight through. I even held my head out of the window for the first hour. I'm not sure what time it was when I got back, but my fiance' was laughing at the door. I had been calling her the whole way. It was in the teens of hours drive, but man was I happy to get back home. Looking back, the whole trip was great except I didn't get to fish and got punked on the place I thought I was the favorite.
Rudolfo can play, boys. He can play. And...his name isn't Sam. And... not all people that look Hispanic are Hispanic, some are Pinoy. Don't fu#4 with the Pinoys.
