Taxi, is this you? Washington Post Article about Pool Nicknames

JAM

I am the storm
Silver Member
Taxi at Randolph Hill Billiards in Maryland. I remember the place well, where I met Geese.

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Here's the article in yesterday's (December 4, 2022) Washington Post:

Back when I was 13 or so and living in England, there was a kid at school named Jonathan Hutt. Everybody called him “Shed.” I wasn’t sure why, so I finally asked someone.

I was told that “Hutt” sounds like “hut” and a shed is a sort of hut. Get it?

Some nicknames need an explanation. Maybe the best ones do. It’s not much of a stretch to call a tall person “Stretch.” But to call him “Cirrus,” after the highest clouds in the atmosphere, shows a bit of creativity.
I admit that “Cirrus” is an awful nickname. Nicknames need to be punchy. “Punch” is a good nickname.
Kensington, Md.’s Andy Moursund has spent a lot of time thinking about nicknames. He shoots pool, and pool halls are veritable petri dishes of nicknames.

Or at least they used to be. Every week, Andy drives to Elkridge, Md., to play in a tournament at a billiard hall called the Triple Nines.

“I’m the only player out there who doesn’t go by his (or her) real name,” he wrote. “Since most of the other players there are about half my age (I’m 78), I guess you might say my name has been grandfathered in.”

And what is the name Andy goes by in those weekly tournaments? Taxi.

“My own moniker was given to me when I walked into Roman Billiards in Silver Spring one day in 1967 wearing a Montgomery County taxi cab badge,” Andy wrote. “The name stuck, and to this day 99 percent of the players I encounter in the few remaining rooms I frequent only know me by a name I was given 55 years ago.”

Andy Moursund once walked into a pool hall wearing a taxi driver's badge, earning him his permanent nickname: Taxi. (Andy Moursund)
It doesn’t matter that Andy actually drove a cab for a scant three months while he was waiting for his draft notice. The name lives on.

Andy is a bit of a collector. He used to own a used bookstore in Bethesda, Md. A die-hard pool room habitue, he says he more or less lived with a cue in his hands for long stretches from the late 1960s to the early ’80s. He played in Durham, N.C., when he was at Duke and was a regular at the aforementioned Roman Billiards, as well as Brunswick Billiards at 14th and Irving streets NW, Guys and Dolls in Silver Hill, Md., and Jimmy’s Golden Q at Seventh and T streets NW, right across from the Howard Theatre.

And during that time, he collected nicknames. There was Booty Green, who always came in wearing his Army uniform, and Maalox, an older gent who swigged from a bottle of Maalox to calm his stomach. Khrushchev was a dead ringer for the Soviet leader.
Probably the most accomplished player was Melvin “Strawberry” Brooks, a famed hustler of one-pocket pool from the District.
According to Brooks’s 2006 obituary, Strawberry got his nickname as a child when he and his friends would shoplift their lunch from grocery stores.

“Assigned the drinks, he always took strawberry pop,” wrote my colleague Adam Bernstein.

Some nicknames have less colorful explanations. Rocky Semmes of Alexandria, Va., had an uncle named Harry. Harry was named after his father and thus was “Junior.” But as a youngster, he had trouble pronouncing that word.

“The best he could ever muster was ‘dune,’” Rocky wrote. “So from his earliest days my Dad’s oldest brother was known throughout his long life as Dune to all family, friends and familiars.”

The nickname of Dune’s younger brother, David, came from a windup grandfather clock in the house.

Wrote Rocky: “Young David could never quite imitate the ‘tick-tock’ noise it made, and the closest he came to it was ‘tick-tick-tick-tick.’”

He was forever known to the world as “Tick.”

This is obviously a family that loves nicknames. (And has trouble with pronunciation?) When Harry — Dune, you will recall — had a son, the boy was also named Harry.

“Harry III was fond of turtles but he could never quite get his mouth around the word ‘turtle’ and it always came out as ‘turko,’” Rocky wrote. “So, you guessed it, he has been known by all in this world as Turko to this very day.”

And what about Rocky? He’s named after his father, Raphael Semmes. Raphael Sr. was a boxer in his youth, nicknamed “Rocky” after Rocky Marciano. The nickname passed from father to son.
Do you have an unusual nickname? Or a nickname with an unusual or convoluted backstory? Send the details — with “Nickname” in the subject line — to me at john.kelly@washpost.com.


Andy Moursund once walked into a pool hall wearing a taxi driver's badge, earning him his permanent nickname: Taxi.

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Source: https://www.washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2022/12/03/unusual-nicknames/ [Retrieved 5 December 2022]
 
Jam
thanks for the link
nice read
btw
how did "Geese" get his nickname?

His family used to live next door to the Golden Cue in Bladensburg. Papageorge was running a pool tournament in the Golden Cue. Somebody wrote Geese's name on the chart as "Geece," which should have been, of course, "Gerace." Papageorge called out Geese's name for his match was up: "Geese. Geese, you're up." The name stuck with Geese ever since. :p

Photo of Tom-Tom (Wirth) and the late Papageorge at Champions in Laurel, Maryland, circa early 2000s.

tom tom and pops.JPG
 
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His family used to live next door to the Golden Cue in Bladensburg. Papageorge was running a pool tournament in the Golden Cue. Somebody wrote Geese's name on the chart as "Geece," which should have been, of course, "Gerace." Papageorge called out Geese's name for his match was up: "Geese. Geese, you're up." The name stuck with Geese ever since. :p

Photo of Tom-Tom (Wirth) and the late Papageorge at Champions in Laurel, Maryland, circa early 2000s.

View attachment 674228
Tom Tom looking young there 👍
 
Taxi at Randolph Hill Billiards in Maryland. I remember the place well, where I met Geese.

View attachment 674223

Here's the article in yesterday's (December 4, 2022) Washington Post:

Back when I was 13 or so and living in England, there was a kid at school named Jonathan Hutt. Everybody called him “Shed.” I wasn’t sure why, so I finally asked someone.

I was told that “Hutt” sounds like “hut” and a shed is a sort of hut. Get it?

Some nicknames need an explanation. Maybe the best ones do. It’s not much of a stretch to call a tall person “Stretch.” But to call him “Cirrus,” after the highest clouds in the atmosphere, shows a bit of creativity.
I admit that “Cirrus” is an awful nickname. Nicknames need to be punchy. “Punch” is a good nickname.
Kensington, Md.’s Andy Moursund has spent a lot of time thinking about nicknames. He shoots pool, and pool halls are veritable petri dishes of nicknames.

Or at least they used to be. Every week, Andy drives to Elkridge, Md., to play in a tournament at a billiard hall called the Triple Nines.

“I’m the only player out there who doesn’t go by his (or her) real name,” he wrote. “Since most of the other players there are about half my age (I’m 78), I guess you might say my name has been grandfathered in.”


And what is the name Andy goes by in those weekly tournaments? Taxi.

“My own moniker was given to me when I walked into Roman Billiards in Silver Spring one day in 1967 wearing a Montgomery County taxi cab badge,” Andy wrote. “The name stuck, and to this day 99 percent of the players I encounter in the few remaining rooms I frequent only know me by a name I was given 55 years ago.”

Andy Moursund once walked into a pool hall wearing a taxi driver's badge, earning him his permanent nickname: Taxi. (Andy Moursund)
It doesn’t matter that Andy actually drove a cab for a scant three months while he was waiting for his draft notice. The name lives on.

Andy is a bit of a collector. He used to own a used bookstore in Bethesda, Md. A die-hard pool room habitue, he says he more or less lived with a cue in his hands for long stretches from the late 1960s to the early ’80s. He played in Durham, N.C., when he was at Duke and was a regular at the aforementioned Roman Billiards, as well as Brunswick Billiards at 14th and Irving streets NW, Guys and Dolls in Silver Hill, Md., and Jimmy’s Golden Q at Seventh and T streets NW, right across from the Howard Theatre.

And during that time, he collected nicknames. There was Booty Green, who always came in wearing his Army uniform, and Maalox, an older gent who swigged from a bottle of Maalox to calm his stomach. Khrushchev was a dead ringer for the Soviet leader.
Probably the most accomplished player was Melvin “Strawberry” Brooks, a famed hustler of one-pocket pool from the District.
According to Brooks’s 2006 obituary, Strawberry got his nickname as a child when he and his friends would shoplift their lunch from grocery stores.

“Assigned the drinks, he always took strawberry pop,” wrote my colleague Adam Bernstein.

Some nicknames have less colorful explanations. Rocky Semmes of Alexandria, Va., had an uncle named Harry. Harry was named after his father and thus was “Junior.” But as a youngster, he had trouble pronouncing that word.

“The best he could ever muster was ‘dune,’” Rocky wrote. “So from his earliest days my Dad’s oldest brother was known throughout his long life as Dune to all family, friends and familiars.”

The nickname of Dune’s younger brother, David, came from a windup grandfather clock in the house.

Wrote Rocky: “Young David could never quite imitate the ‘tick-tock’ noise it made, and the closest he came to it was ‘tick-tick-tick-tick.’”

He was forever known to the world as “Tick.”

This is obviously a family that loves nicknames. (And has trouble with pronunciation?) When Harry — Dune, you will recall — had a son, the boy was also named Harry.

“Harry III was fond of turtles but he could never quite get his mouth around the word ‘turtle’ and it always came out as ‘turko,’” Rocky wrote. “So, you guessed it, he has been known by all in this world as Turko to this very day.”

And what about Rocky? He’s named after his father, Raphael Semmes. Raphael Sr. was a boxer in his youth, nicknamed “Rocky” after Rocky Marciano. The nickname passed from father to son.
Do you have an unusual nickname? Or a nickname with an unusual or convoluted backstory? Send the details — with “Nickname” in the subject line — to me at john.kelly@washpost.com.


Andy Moursund once walked into a pool hall wearing a taxi driver's badge, earning him his permanent nickname: Taxi.

View attachment 674224

Source: https://www.washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2022/12/03/unusual-nicknames/ [Retrieved 5 December 2022]
Very definitely it was me. Glad to see someone else still reads newspapers, and thanks for sharing it with the forum. I sent Kelly many more nicknames, but due to space limitations he could only use a handful.

Speaking of Geese, he's the front page photo of a series of photos I have on one of my Flickr albums, called Washington, DC Pool Players of the 70's. I'm sure you'll recognize a bunch more. My favorite is the one of Mickey and Maalox----of course Mickey was known as "Peaches", or "Dr. Hemingway" to his sports betting customers. About 20 years later he won the 9 ball tournament at Champions in Rockville on his 80th birthday, beating Freddie Boggs in a hill-hill match in the final round. This gives me something to aspire to about 19 months from now. :cool: Mickey is my all time sports hero.
 
And what about Rocky? He’s named after his father, Raphael Semmes. Raphael Sr. was a boxer in his youth, nicknamed “Rocky” after Rocky Marciano. The nickname passed from father to son.
I would have guessed he was named after a racoon.:D
 
Very definitely it was me. Glad to see someone else still reads newspapers, and thanks for sharing it with the forum. I sent Kelly many more nicknames, but due to space limitations he could only use a handful.

Speaking of Geese, he's the front page photo of a series of photos I have on one of my Flickr albums, called Washington, DC Pool Players of the 70's. I'm sure you'll recognize a bunch more. My favorite is the one of Mickey and Maalox----of course Mickey was known as "Peaches", or "Dr. Hemingway" to his sports betting customers. About 20 years later he won the 9 ball tournament at Champions in Rockville on his 80th birthday, beating Freddie Boggs in a hill-hill match in the final round. This gives me something to aspire to about 19 months from now. :cool: Mickey is my all time sports hero.
We went to Mickey's wake in Old Town Rockville when he passed. It was like a who's who in the pool world attending. His lovely daughters were there. I saw people I hadn't seen in a long while.

We all knew "Mr. Johnson" was Old Man Mickey. Roman Billiards may have been the pool room where Old Man Mickey the bookmaker worked. Old Man Mickey aka "Mr. Johnson," as he was called on the telephone in the pool room, used to book all the players sports' bets. When I worked at the pool room, someone would call and ask for Mr. Johnson, and I knew right away that itw as Old Man Mickey. When he passed away, you should have seen the crowd at the funeral home for the wake. I learned then that he put his daughters in college, unbeknownst to them, with his gambling exploits.

I wish I had a a photo of Old Man Mickey wearing that cap of his. He taught me how to make a one-rail bank with spin when the angle is off. He also taught me how to break in 9-ball. I was a barbox shooter originally when I met Geese but soon became familiar with the big tables, a whole nother world.

Him beating Freddie Boggs was a good feat. Freddie was definitely a one-pocket mechanic. I miss those days. I enjoy going down memory lane in this thread.
 
Taxi at Randolph Hill Billiards in Maryland. I remember the place well, where I met Geese.

View attachment 674223

Here's the article in yesterday's (December 4, 2022) Washington Post:

Back when I was 13 or so and living in England, there was a kid at school named Jonathan Hutt. Everybody called him “Shed.” I wasn’t sure why, so I finally asked someone.

I was told that “Hutt” sounds like “hut” and a shed is a sort of hut. Get it?

Some nicknames need an explanation. Maybe the best ones do. It’s not much of a stretch to call a tall person “Stretch.” But to call him “Cirrus,” after the highest clouds in the atmosphere, shows a bit of creativity.
I admit that “Cirrus” is an awful nickname. Nicknames need to be punchy. “Punch” is a good nickname.
Kensington, Md.’s Andy Moursund has spent a lot of time thinking about nicknames. He shoots pool, and pool halls are veritable petri dishes of nicknames.

Or at least they used to be. Every week, Andy drives to Elkridge, Md., to play in a tournament at a billiard hall called the Triple Nines.

“I’m the only player out there who doesn’t go by his (or her) real name,” he wrote. “Since most of the other players there are about half my age (I’m 78), I guess you might say my name has been grandfathered in.”


And what is the name Andy goes by in those weekly tournaments? Taxi.

“My own moniker was given to me when I walked into Roman Billiards in Silver Spring one day in 1967 wearing a Montgomery County taxi cab badge,” Andy wrote. “The name stuck, and to this day 99 percent of the players I encounter in the few remaining rooms I frequent only know me by a name I was given 55 years ago.”

Andy Moursund once walked into a pool hall wearing a taxi driver's badge, earning him his permanent nickname: Taxi. (Andy Moursund)
It doesn’t matter that Andy actually drove a cab for a scant three months while he was waiting for his draft notice. The name lives on.

Andy is a bit of a collector. He used to own a used bookstore in Bethesda, Md. A die-hard pool room habitue, he says he more or less lived with a cue in his hands for long stretches from the late 1960s to the early ’80s. He played in Durham, N.C., when he was at Duke and was a regular at the aforementioned Roman Billiards, as well as Brunswick Billiards at 14th and Irving streets NW, Guys and Dolls in Silver Hill, Md., and Jimmy’s Golden Q at Seventh and T streets NW, right across from the Howard Theatre.

And during that time, he collected nicknames. There was Booty Green, who always came in wearing his Army uniform, and Maalox, an older gent who swigged from a bottle of Maalox to calm his stomach. Khrushchev was a dead ringer for the Soviet leader.
Probably the most accomplished player was Melvin “Strawberry” Brooks, a famed hustler of one-pocket pool from the District.
According to Brooks’s 2006 obituary, Strawberry got his nickname as a child when he and his friends would shoplift their lunch from grocery stores.

“Assigned the drinks, he always took strawberry pop,” wrote my colleague Adam Bernstein.

Some nicknames have less colorful explanations. Rocky Semmes of Alexandria, Va., had an uncle named Harry. Harry was named after his father and thus was “Junior.” But as a youngster, he had trouble pronouncing that word.

“The best he could ever muster was ‘dune,’” Rocky wrote. “So from his earliest days my Dad’s oldest brother was known throughout his long life as Dune to all family, friends and familiars.”

The nickname of Dune’s younger brother, David, came from a windup grandfather clock in the house.

Wrote Rocky: “Young David could never quite imitate the ‘tick-tock’ noise it made, and the closest he came to it was ‘tick-tick-tick-tick.’”

He was forever known to the world as “Tick.”

This is obviously a family that loves nicknames. (And has trouble with pronunciation?) When Harry — Dune, you will recall — had a son, the boy was also named Harry.

“Harry III was fond of turtles but he could never quite get his mouth around the word ‘turtle’ and it always came out as ‘turko,’” Rocky wrote. “So, you guessed it, he has been known by all in this world as Turko to this very day.”

And what about Rocky? He’s named after his father, Raphael Semmes. Raphael Sr. was a boxer in his youth, nicknamed “Rocky” after Rocky Marciano. The nickname passed from father to son.
Do you have an unusual nickname? Or a nickname with an unusual or convoluted backstory? Send the details — with “Nickname” in the subject line — to me at john.kelly@washpost.com.


Andy Moursund once walked into a pool hall wearing a taxi driver's badge, earning him his permanent nickname: Taxi.

View attachment 674224

Source: https://www.washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2022/12/03/unusual-nicknames/ [Retrieved 5 December 2022]
Great stories!

I wanted to enhance this picture for you, also, but there is just too little detail. This is the best I could come up with with a brief amount of effort:

Taxi in Maryland 02.jpg
 
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My buddy, Rhino (his self given nickname) is the undisputed king of nicknames. Here's some of the nicknames he's given our local players.

Little Boy: Given because he's small in stature
Fat Baby: Given because he's portly and complains a lot
Seabiscuit: Given because he comes from behind
Elephant: Given because he's stocky and muscular
Johnny 5: To this day, I don't know why he calls him that
Amigo: Again, I don't know why he calls him that. The guy isn't even Hispanic
Hollywood: Presumably given because the guy was a regular at Hollywood Billiards
Ketchup: Again, no idea why
Tall Donkey: Given because he's tall and would sell out a lot in ring games
The Kid: Given when he first started coming to a local pool hall years ago to learn the game
9 Ball Bob: Given because he rides the 9B every chance he gets

There are more, but they're escaping me at the moment.
 
I skipped a lot (got excited)😉
Flyboy was my favorite nickname. He was a tail Gunner on a B-52. They were on call for extended period. With a pool table in the ready room.🤷
I was humble d when he introduced himself. I had just started to explain 9 ball tournament to him on Sunday as I stood at the bar getting a beer to watch the finals.
 
We went to Mickey's wake in Old Town Rockville when he passed. It was like a who's who in the pool world attending. His lovely daughters were there. I saw people I hadn't seen in a long while.

We all knew "Mr. Johnson" was Old Man Mickey. Roman Billiards may have been the pool room where Old Man Mickey the bookmaker worked. Old Man Mickey aka "Mr. Johnson," as he was called on the telephone in the pool room, used to book all the players sports' bets. When I worked at the pool room, someone would call and ask for Mr. Johnson, and I knew right away that itw as Old Man Mickey. When he passed away, you should have seen the crowd at the funeral home for the wake. I learned then that he put his daughters in college, unbeknownst to them, with his gambling exploits.

I wish I had a a photo of Old Man Mickey wearing that cap of his. He taught me how to make a one-rail bank with spin when the angle is off. He also taught me how to break in 9-ball. I was a barbox shooter originally when I met Geese but soon became familiar with the big tables, a whole nother world.

Him beating Freddie Boggs was a good feat. Freddie was definitely a one-pocket mechanic. I miss those days. I enjoy going down memory lane in this thread.
Mickey bought Roman Billiards from "Phil" (the original owner) a few years before it closed. But when he moved his er, "operation" to Randolph Hills, his customers always asked for "Dr. Hemingway", not "Mr. Johnson". When I'd call to place a bet, I'd sometimes ask for "Dr. Faulkner" or "Dr. Michener", and Mickey always knew to take the call. That picture of Mickey and Maalox depicted Maalox screening his calls for him. I made a poster out of that one and hung it in my book shop. Tom-Tom and Little Petey used to come into that shop on occasion, and they appreciated the tribute to our beloved Peaches. Truly one of a kind.

Before Randolph Hills closed in early 1982, shortly after a front page story in the Post about drug use there had appeared, Mickey was getting involved in a fair amount of serious pool action against some first rate road players. $200 a game 9 ball matches were a fairly routine occurrence.

In the year or two before Mickey died, Little Petey used to visit him a lot in his Rockville apartment. I tried forever to get him to take notes about their many conversations, but without any luck. I do remember Mickey telling me about playing Minnesota Fats back around 1950, and also how he'd spent his 21st birthday in a Milwaukee jail. But for someone who hardly ever worked an "honest" day in his life, Mickey was the most honest person I've ever known. I once put down a $100 bet on the Raiders against the Vikings in the 1977 Super Bowl, and before the game began I left town on a two month road trip. On the day I got back, I parked my car in the Randolph Hills lot, and when I walked into the pool room there was Mickey, who greeted me at the door, shaking my hand with a smile and a "Welcome home, Possum". In his hand was a $100 bill.
 
My buddy, Rhino (his self given nickname) is the undisputed king of nicknames. Here's some of the nicknames he's given our local players.

Little Boy: Given because he's small in stature
Fat Baby: Given because he's portly and complains a lot
Seabiscuit: Given because he comes from behind
Elephant: Given because he's stocky and muscular
Johnny 5: To this day, I don't know why he calls him that
Amigo: Again, I don't know why he calls him that. The guy isn't even Hispanic
Hollywood: Presumably given because the guy was a regular at Hollywood Billiards
Ketchup: Again, no idea why
Tall Donkey: Given because he's tall and would sell out a lot in ring games
The Kid: Given when he first started coming to a local pool hall years ago to learn the game
9 Ball Bob: Given because he rides the 9B every chance he gets

There are more, but they're escaping me at the moment.
Here are some of the other names I gave Kelly that didn't appear in the article. I imagine lots of them will be familiar to many of you. Most of them stayed in one or two rooms in the 14th St. area, but a few were serious road players. At least a few of them (Jackie Robinson, Bus Driver, Tom-Tom and Cris) are still among the living, and hopefully some others as well. Most of them I saw at 14th & Irving, 14th & Park Rd. ("Baggy's"), Guys and Dolls, Coral Hills, Jimmy's Golden Q, Roman Billiards and Randolph Hills, with a few at Beanie's Jack and Jill.

Bird
Flip
Yogee
Fats
Fat Joe
Half Man (Fat Joe's very diminutive brother)
Shakey / Crip
Taxi Slim
Lefty Joe
Jackie Robinson
Joe Dimaggio
Bus Driver
Cigar
Sunglasses
Little Gus
Geese
Gump
Gimp
Goober
Jersey John
Lunch Money ("Taxi, you done beat me out of all my lunch money")
Drug Fair
Peaches
Little Nicky
Little Petey
Captain Slick
Jeeter
Bugs
Duke
Sheeby
Robbin’ John
The Schoolteacher
Tom-Tom
Weenie Beanie
Jimmy Mack
Crazy Jerry
Six Pack (of Gonorrhea) ("Taxi, you run on like a six pack of gonorrhea")
Seattle Sam
Cris (short for Crisco, a player who named herself in honor of her (not that) big butt)
 
About 50 years ago, we got a wrong number call asking for "Geese". My mother was very amused. The caller repeated the moniker a few times. I was not in the pool world at the time.
 
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Taxi, do you have a photo of Peaches (Old Man Mickey)? I'd love to see it. I cannot find one.

And how could I forget the late Jimmy Mack. We used to be good buddies when we'd see each other at the pool rooms. He was always the voice of reason and most definitely had game. And what about the ball room dancers? I can't remember their names.

We had our own nicknamed regulars at Hank Dietle's on the pike: Seabreeze, Fat Ernie, Rhinestone Cowboy, Peppy, Turtle, Norton, Fitz, Cab Driver Pete, Larry the Roofer, Greg the Banker, Mo the Iranian, Gene-Gene the Dancing Machine.

Oh, and Chester Morris. I bought my first Sneaky Pete from him. Somebody steered me to him because he could do trick shots. I asked him if he could please come to Hank Dietle's for me when "PM Magazine" came to do a shoot about the Miller Lite tournament we were having there. I was the TD. This was back in the days when I used to drink beer, and when I say drink, I mean I'd close the bar down very night.

The night before the "PM Magazine" shoot, I got wasted, as usual, and when I woke up at home the next morning, my car was not home with me. I could not remember where I left it. I had a blackout, I guess. I had to rush to Dietle's that morning to meet the "PM Magazine" crew. As was the norm at 10 a.m., Dietle's was dead as a doornail, with three "regulars" sitting at the bar, sipping their glass mugs of draught beer. I was so hung over that I forgot to put on my makeup on, and I wanted to look good for the TV cameras. So I went in the bathroom and used the blue pool chalk on my eyes for eye shadow. When the camera crew arrived, they asked me if I could get some of the "regulars" to stand around the table because the one-table bar looked like a ghost town at ten in the morning. None of the "regulars" would agree to be on camera because they were all playing hooky from work—or their wives.

The Miller Lite tournament happened that evening without a glitch. As usually, I was wolfing down the beers, and the place was literally packed, standing room only. I had not realized having a tournament with one pool table would take forever, but we all had a good time. The owner, Henry Dietle, came over to me the next morning with my tab in his hand, which was close to a hundred bucks. I used to be a happy drunk and would buy everybody beer. Henry ripped the paper tab up in front of me and said we were even and gave me a big smile. If you knew Henry Dietle, that was amazing to get a smile out of him. Because of that Miller Lite tournament, it was the most money Hank Dietle's ever made ever, and Henry was happy.

When road agents would come into Hank's looking for action, I had a rapport with Randolph Hills Billiards now after meeting Chester and a few other regulars. I would call over Randolph Hills from the telephone booth—nobody had cell phones back then—and ask who was there, that they should come over and play the road agents. A few times, West Virginia Frank Kroll would come and clean up. He's always give me a jelly roll. Gump used to come in Dietle's for a score too.

Hank Dietle's was the oldest bar in Maryland, was there when Rockville Pike used to be a dirt road. It caught fire on Valentine's Day a couple years ago. I wasn't a regular anymore, but when I rea about it, I had to drive up there to see for myself. Dietle's was a huge, huge part of my younger life. Much to my surprise, people I hadn't seen in 40 years were sitting in the parking, wanting to be close to the place we all spent so much of our lives in. Today Dietle's is a yup spot. They built it back up to be more of a bar with music and food. They still have a pool table, but it's moved over to the side on weekends so people can dance.

I'd love to see more photos if you have them of some of the Randolph Hills crew. Remember the Shifflets? They used to live behind Dietle's. And what about Mamoo? Memories conjuring up in my mind. 🥰

Owner Henry Dietle and one of the many bartenders, John Hovde

279227.jpg


Fireman Sweeney, me, and Quinn in Dietle's parking lot. I was a stone-cold tomboy, and nobody bothered me with my crew by my side. 😎

Sweeney me Mike Dietles.jpg


A few photos of Geese and me when we were an item. I ran the Maryland State Tournament at Champions in Silver Spring in 1986. Remember Big Ed? That's Big Ed and me behind him on the bottom right in Dietle's parking lot. Big Ed was Geese's best friend. Of course, Ed always had the best smoke. 😚

Geese, JAM, SIgel, and Sigel girlfriend.jpg


The way we were at Hank's on the Pike. Surliness and flies, no charge.

180052777_10158287334233020_5403852120560452660_n.jpg
 
jam
great stories and pics.....(y)
before your pool days were you in to photography ?
you have so many pics of your lifes journey.
at your early age i dont think i would have been thinking of "memories" for later
 
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jam
great stories and pics.....(y)
before your pool days were you in to photography ?
you have so many pics of your lifes journey.
at your early age i dont think i would have been thinking of "memories" for later
I only wish I had more. We didn't have the luxury of digital photograph back then. They sure help to keep happy memories on focus. :cool:
 
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