The Encyclopedia of Pool Hustlers

[freddy the beard]

WOW!!! Super comprehensive. This will be a must have! Do I assume correctly that Vern Elliott will be in the "E" section??? (-:

He showed me how to shoot the Impossible Bank Shot. Did it on the 3rd try!!!

(-:

Since you asked, but this will be the last excerpt for awhile:

Vernon Eliot
In 1972 I was in Johnston City with my second wife, Theresa and my new born baby daughter, Catherine. I got up early one morning and I stopped into the "Back Room." That’s where all the action took place. It was a building across the parking lot behind the Show Lounge.
Vernon was banging balls around and telling stories to some younger players. He had been up all night. He set up this ridiculous cross- corner and said that he had been shooting it as a proposition earlier in the night. He said at first he was stalling around with it, and getting many shots to make it, but only for cheap money. He said it was only when he said he could make it in two tries that the smart money showed up and tried to bust him.
He bragged that he made a carload of money by then making it in 2 pops. I looked at the shot, it looked impossible, and I stupidly challenged him. "Well, you can go ahead and bust me too with those 2 tries!" I just figured he was one of those country boy, bull-shitter types. I knew he could play, but that shot made no sense. "I don’t want your money kid; I know you're here with your wife, and that new baby. I won enough last night to buy an aircraft carrier." He pulled out a giant lump from his pocket, but that still wasn’t enough for me. Like a dummy, I'm still insisting that he go ahead and bet me. "Forget about it, kid. Watch this," and he shot and made this incredible cross-corner on the first attempt! From then on I was a Vernon Eliot believer, and we became good friends. I would still try him some banks from time to time, and he always won. I finally managed to come three games ahead playing him in Hot Springs, AR. I was happier than a knocker with the first cell phone.
Buddy Hall said this about Vernon, "Yeah, those shots he sets up are impossible, but don’t bet he can’t make 'em."

Beard

 

[jhanso18]

I can't wait for this book!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

[jay helfert]

A book that the Whalen's were in is the "Gangster Squad"; it was also made in to a movie with Sean Penn. Sounded like Freddie was quite the hustler.

In the book Jack was shot in a restaurant, but Jay knows stuff so I might believe his account.

http://www.huntingtonnews.net/41035

Yes, he was in the phone booth in the restaurant. All the restaurants had them in those days. Once inside you were trapped! It was two guys with 45's who got him. They emptied both guns into him. Got that info straight from his dad. The gangsters were afraid of Jack, who didn't even carry a gun. He could kill them with his bare hands!

 

[dorabelle]

I can't wait for this book!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It think the movie version of this book would save pool. A few short stories based on crazy pool hustlers.

 

[Voodoo Daddy]

I love how Pancho has like 6 names...made me smile!

Voodoo~~hope you all are doin' well!

 

[dorabelle]

Hats off to all the people keeping these stories alive. Thanks.

 

[Donkey Puncher]

This is like the only interesting thread I have seen on here in weeks

 

[backplaying]

Since you asked, but this will be the last excerpt for awhile:

Vernon Eliot
In 1972 I was in Johnston City with my second wife, Theresa and my new born baby daughter, Catherine. I got up early one morning and I stopped into the "Back Room." That’s where all the action took place. It was a building across the parking lot behind the Show Lounge.
Vernon was banging balls around and telling stories to some younger players. He had been up all night. He set up this ridiculous cross- corner and said that he had been shooting it as a proposition earlier in the night. He said at first he was stalling around with it, and getting many shots to make it, but only for cheap money. He said it was only when he said he could make it in two tries that the smart money showed up and tried to bust him.
He bragged that he made a carload of money by then making it in 2 pops. I looked at the shot, it looked impossible, and I stupidly challenged him. "Well, you can go ahead and bust me too with those 2 tries!" I just figured he was one of those country boy, bull-shitter types. I knew he could play, but that shot made no sense. "I don’t want your money kid; I know you're here with your wife, and that new baby. I won enough last night to buy an aircraft carrier." He pulled out a giant lump from his pocket, but that still wasn’t enough for me. Like a dummy, I'm still insisting that he go ahead and bet me. "Forget about it, kid. Watch this," and he shot and made this incredible cross-corner on the first attempt! From then on I was a Vernon Eliot believer, and we became good friends. I would still try him some banks from time to time, and he always won. I finally managed to come three games ahead playing him in Hot Springs, AR. I was happier than a knocker with the first cell phone.
Buddy Hall said this about Vernon, "Yeah, those shots he sets up are impossible, but don’t bet he can’t make 'em."

Beard

Happier than a knocker with the first cell phone. Now thats funny, got to use that one.

 

[freddy the beard]

Last excerpt for awhile. I put this up on Onepocket.org in order to bust a certain player's balls over there. So I but I might as well put it up here too.

Cisero Murphy
Brooklyn, NY
As great a player as Cisero was, his fundamentals were appalling. His stroking arm made left and right hand during his backstroke; somehow his delivery retraced those same paths and straightened out just before he hit the cue ball.

Cisero was also one of the funniest guys I knew. When an earthquake hit a Fred Whalen tournament in LA, all the pool players were staying at the Elks Club. Cisero and I were staying up on the top floor, the 9th. In the midst of all the chaos, like running down the stairs to get out of the building because the elevators were not working, Cisero quipped, while flying 9 floors down the stairs, "I'm never going on the road without my parachute again."

Cisero played a challenge Straight-pool match of 1500 points against Luther Wimpy Lassiter in Wimpy's home poolroom in Elizabeth, NC. Wimpy at that time was rated #1 in the world. Cisero beat him handily while having a high run of over 200 balls.

In 1970, Cisero was the first player I had to play at Johnston City in the One-pocket tournament. He was my first opponent in my first major tournament. The bookmakers opened me up as a 5 to 1 underdog.

Things started with me gambling in the Back Room playing a One-pocket set with Brooklyn Charlie. I was struggling badly but Charlie wasn’t playing very well either so the outcome was still up in the air. George Jansco came into the room and told me that my match with Cisero was up and I would have to finish my set with Charlie later.

As I headed to the tournament room I was filled with trepidation; it was my first big match against a great player, and I had played terribly against Brooklyn Charlie. However, as soon as I stepped down into the “pit” area by the tables, something came over me. All the tables had a fabulous lighting system over them. They were using high intensity spot lights encased in a 4 ½’ x 9’ canopy. The lighting set something off in me and I instantly knew that I was somehow in dead stroke.

I won the lag, broke the balls and sold out. Cisero ran five off of my break but dogged the 6th ball badly and I ran 8 and out from there. The rules then were winner breaks, so I broke again, made a powerful break; Cisero tried unsuccessfully to play a safety, left me a shot and I ran 8 and out again. It was my break again and I made another good break. This time Cisero played a decent safety but I was able to bank a ball at the stack, one went into the pocket and I ran 8 and out – again. Next game I made another ball on the break, and yes, another 8 and out! Four 8 and outs in a matter of seven innings! This feat was chronicled in the old Billiard News in Earl Newby’s column on the 2nd page.

Epilogue:
Now I had to return to the Back Room and finish my set with Brooklyn Charlie. Charlie had been in the stands watching my match with Cisero. He must have thought that I had been stalling with him all along, because when we resumed our match he became totally helpless and I won easily. The irony in the whole matter was that as soon as I returned to the Back Room I knew that I had returned to earth and was no longer in dead stroke. I had gone back to playing the same low speed that I was playing before I went into the tournament room. I was only able to beat Charlie because his game had gone into a dead faint.
That was pretty much how my whole tournament went that year because I beat a lot of top players, Wade Crane, Steve Cook, Junior Goff, St Louis Blackie LeSeur, etc. I would become Superman in the tournament area and then revert to Clark Kent in the Back Room. To this day I still haven’t figured out why.

Beard

 

[jay helfert]

Last excerpt for awhile. I put this up on Onepocket.org in order to bust a certain player's balls over there. So I but I might as well put it up here too.

Cisero Murphy
Brooklyn, NY
As great a player as Cisero was, his fundamentals were appalling. His stroking arm made left and right hand during his backstroke; somehow his delivery retraced those same paths and straightened out just before he hit the cue ball.

Cisero was also one of the funniest guys I knew. When an earthquake hit a Fred Whalen tournament in LA, all the pool players were staying at the Elks Club. Cisero and I were staying up on the top floor, the 9th. In the midst of all the chaos, like running down the stairs to get out of the building because the elevators were not working, Cisero quipped, while flying 9 floors down the stairs, "I'm never going on the road without my parachute again."

Cisero played a challenge Straight-pool match of 1500 points against Luther Wimpy Lassiter in Wimpy's home poolroom in Elizabeth, NC. Wimpy at that time was rated #1 in the world. Cisero beat him handily while having a high run of over 200 balls.

In 1970, Cisero was the first player I had to play at Johnston City in the One-pocket tournament. He was my first opponent in my first major tournament. The bookmakers opened me up as a 5 to 1 underdog.

Things started with me gambling in the Back Room playing a One-pocket set with Brooklyn Charlie. I was struggling badly but Charlie wasn’t playing very well either so the outcome was still up in the air. George Jansco came into the room and told me that my match with Cisero was up and I would have to finish my set with Charlie later.

As I headed to the tournament room I was filled with trepidation; it was my first big match against a great player, and I had played terribly against Brooklyn Charlie. However, as soon as I stepped down into the “pit” area by the tables, something came over me. All the tables had a fabulous lighting system over them. They were using high intensity spot lights encased in a 4 ½’ x 9’ canopy. The lighting set something off in me and I instantly knew that I was somehow in dead stroke.

I won the lag, broke the balls and sold out. Cisero ran five off of my break but dogged the 6th ball badly and I ran 8 and out from there. The rules then were winner breaks, so I broke again, made a powerful break; Cisero tried unsuccessfully to play a safety, left me a shot and I ran 8 and out again. It was my break again and I made another good break. This time Cisero played a decent safety but I was able to bank a ball at the stack, one went into the pocket and I ran 8 and out – again. Next game I made another ball on the break, and yes, another 8 and out! Four 8 and outs in a matter of seven innings! This feat was chronicled in the old Billiard News in Earl Newby’s column on the 2nd page.

Epilogue:
Now I had to return to the Back Room and finish my set with Brooklyn Charlie. Charlie had been in the stands watching my match with Cisero. He must have thought that I had been stalling with him all along, because when we resumed our match he became totally helpless and I won easily. The irony in the whole matter was that as soon as I returned to the Back Room I knew that I had returned to earth and was no longer in dead stroke. I had gone back to playing the same low speed that I was playing before I went into the tournament room. I was only able to beat Charlie because his game had gone into a dead faint.
That was pretty much how my whole tournament went that year because I beat a lot of top players, Wade Crane, Steve Cook, Junior Goff, St Louis Blackie LeSeur, etc. I would become Superman in the tournament area and then revert to Clark Kent in the Back Room. To this day I still haven’t figured out why.

Beard

You always played to the crowd! You didn't like being buried on a back table.

 

[freddy the beard]

You always played to the crowd! You didn't like being buried on a back table.

You of course busted me, Jaybird. That was definitely my M.O.

Beard

 

[jay helfert]

You of course busted me, Jaybird. That was definitely my M.O.

Beard

Ha Ha! I'll never forget when I took you and Augie to the ghetto in L.A. cause you were looking for some Bank Pool and One Pocket action. Augie was the 9-Ball specialist on your team and Little Frankie was there to take off any unbelieving shortstops (Frankie was the best playing and gambling 13-14 year old I ever saw!). Okay, maybe Keith was his equal at a similar age.

I took you to the most notorious joints where we were the only white guys in there. Those places were full of the most dangerous outlaws in the city; drug dealers, pimps and killers! You took on the best of 'em; The Iceman, Black Nate, Rush Out Red, California Shorty, etc. I don't think any of them could beat you playing Banks, so they gave up on that quick, then it was on to One Pocket. You held your own before Ice got the best of you by a few games. He was the best in L.A. after Marvin. I'm pretty sure you knew better than to tangle with magnificent Marv!

All the time you were the life of the party, telling jokes and keeping everyone in stitches. We laughed the whole night and all the "brothers" were having just as much fun. The game almost became secondary. You played pretty good in a spot that most hustlers were afraid to visit. After that, whenever I would run into any of the black players, they would ask me about you. They loved you in L.A., that's all I know. Win or lose, you were one of them. :thumbup2:

 

[freddy the beard]

Ha Ha! I'll never forget when I took you and Augie to the ghetto in L.A. cause you were looking for some Bank Pool and One Pocket action. Augie was the 9-Ball specialist on your team and Little Frankie was there to take off any unbelieving shortstops (Frankie was the best playing and gambling 13-14 year old I ever saw!). Okay, maybe Keith was his equal at a similar age.

I took you to the most notorious joints where we were the only white guys in there. Those places were full of the most dangerous outlaws in the city; drug dealers, pimps and killers! You took on the best of 'em; The Iceman, Black Nate, Rush Out Red, California Shorty, etc. I don't think any of them could beat you playing Banks, so they gave up on that quick, then it was on to One Pocket. You held your own before Ice got the best of you by a few games. He was the best in L.A. after Marvin. I'm pretty sure you knew better than to tangle with magnificent Marv!

All the time you were the life of the party, telling jokes and keeping everyone in stitches. We laughed the whole night and all the "brothers" were having just as much fun. The game almost became secondary. You played pretty good in a spot that most hustlers were afraid to visit. After that, whenever I would run into any of the black players, they would ask me about you. They loved you in L.A., that's all I know. Win or lose, you were one of them. :thumbup2:

Jaybird, that quote just found another spot in the LA/Hollywood pages of my new book. I have quoted you copiously so far.

Beard

 

[freddy the beard]

Ha Ha! I'll never forget when I took you and Augie to the ghetto in L.A. cause you were looking for some Bank Pool and One Pocket action. Augie was the 9-Ball specialist on your team and Little Frankie was there to take off any unbelieving shortstops (Frankie was the best playing and gambling 13-14 year old I ever saw!). Okay, maybe Keith was his equal at a similar age.

I took you to the most notorious joints where we were the only white guys in there. Those places were full of the most dangerous outlaws in the city; drug dealers, pimps and killers! You took on the best of 'em; The Iceman, Black Nate, Rush Out Red, California Shorty, etc. I don't think any of them could beat you playing Banks, so they gave up on that quick, then it was on to One Pocket. You held your own before Ice got the best of you by a few games. He was the best in L.A. after Marvin. I'm pretty sure you knew better than to tangle with magnificent Marv!

All the time you were the life of the party, telling jokes and keeping everyone in stitches. We laughed the whole night and all the "brothers" were having just as much fun. The game almost became secondary. You played pretty good in a spot that most hustlers were afraid to visit. After that, whenever I would run into any of the black players, they would ask me about you. They loved you in L.A., that's all I know. Win or lose, you were one of them. :thumbup2:

There was an interesting thing that happened to me during one of my forays into the danger zones of Watts and Culver City. At Tournament Billiards there was a mysterious black guy that gave me a “get-out-of trouble” card. He was well known by everyone out there. He had been an ex-gang leader and was at that time a big political force in the area. I won’t mention his name. He gave me his card. He had his name and picture on it, and on the back he wrote, "Freddy the Beard is a friend of mine, show him all the courtesy's that you would show me." I flashed it with great success in all those scary joints. Everybody usually froze up after I showed it.

Beard

Jay do you remember who that guy was? I forgot his name.

 

[jay helfert]

There was an interesting thing that happened to me during one of my forays into the danger zones of Watts and Culver City. At Tournament Billiards there was a mysterious black guy that gave me a “get-out-of trouble” card. He was well known by everyone out there. He had been an ex-gang leader and was at that time a big political force in the area. I won’t mention his name. He gave me his card. He had his name and picture on it, and on the back he wrote, "Freddy the Beard is a friend of mine, show him all the courtesy's that you would show me." I flashed it with great success in all those scary joints. Everybody usually froze up after I showed it.

Beard

Jay do you remember who that guy was? I forgot his name.

Yes, he is still alive as far as I know. He came into my last poolroom at Hollywood Park about seven or eight years ago. He was still sharp and bright and he must have been over 70 then. I should know his name but I can't think of it now (Roosevelt maybe?). Same guy who brought Gabby up to my poolroom in Bakersfield. He must have made a small fortune with him. He was a tall good looking man, very dignified looking. He was in with Marvin when he beat Ronnie for 6K. One of these guys who was always on the right side of a bet. :wink:

"Cowboy" was another of the big shots from the ghetto that loved pool and the pool players. He liked to play as well. Cowboy also visited my last poolroom a couple of times. I never asked him about his "business," but I later found out he was in with with Magic Johnson on some of his real estate projects. Cowboy had his own two engine plane that he flew out of Hawthorne and Compton airports. He offered me rides over to Vegas, but I'm allergic to small planes.

 

[fan-tum]

I am 90% done with it, but edits, reedits, and edits for publication take time. I am guessing 2 more months for low.

Beard

I'll be first in line if a movie ever comes out. Who could play Cokes..Gary Busey, Randy Quaid,Gene Hackman? I like Hackman for Cokes.

 

[freddy the beard]

Corn Bread Red at the Stardust

...Later that night Red and I were patrolling the Casino floor at the Stardust looking for anybody who could put us in action. Red spotted someone he knew sitting in the bar with his girl friend. Red said it was a heist-man friend of his from Detroit, and Red said he was going to get him to stake him against Bernie Schwartz. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea but I went along with him. Red asked the guy for $300 to play Bernie a set of Nine-Ball upstairs in the tournament area. The guy handed Red $300 like it was nothing and went back to his drinking.

We walked over to where the stairs were to go up to the tournament room, but directly in front of the stairs was a Blackjack table. As we got to the stairs, Red veered to the right and plopped down in a seat at the BJ table. I was flabbergasted that Red was going to risk this killer’s money square gambling. Red managed to last about 30 or 40 minutes before he went broke. Undaunted, he said he was going back to the heist-man for another $300 barrel. At this point I wanted to chicken out and I really didn’t want to follow Red into that bar. He dragged me along anyway, and told me to confirm with him that Bernie had gotten lucky and had shit in a bunch on Nine-balls. Red stuck his hand out and said in his inimitable way, “Gimme ‘nother three hunert!” The heist-man handed over another $300 but this time he eyed Red a little suspiciously, and said, “Well, this time my girl and I are going to go up and watch the match.” Red said, “Go on ahead, I’ll be up in a minute.”

This time I was absolutely sure that Red was going to go up and finally play Bernie. We walked up to the stairs and sure enough -- another right turn to the Blackjack table. I was now in a dead panic, I begged Red, “Surely you aint gonna gamble this money off with the guy waiting upstairs in the tournament room with his girl friend!” I myself wanted to walk away and take a duck out of that perilous situation, but curiosity got the better of me. I really just wanted to see how Red could possibly get out of that predicament.

As was to be expected, Red blew the $300. As a matter of fact he busted out on the last money just as the heist-man and his girl were walking back down the stairs, ostensibly to find out what had happened to Red. The heist-man looked at Red and just shook his head in disappointment and started to walk away. Not yet satisfied with the extent of the horror of the situation he had created, Red fired off a parting shot at the guy, “Yo’ money aint no mutha****in’ good!”

Beard

 

[Black-Balled]

...Later that night Red and I were patrolling the Casino floor at the Stardust looking for anybody who could put us in action. ...Red blew the $300.
...Red fired off a parting shot at the guy, “Yo’ money aint no mutha****in’ good!”

Beard

Nuts like Almond Joy! Humans...what a bunch of wack-os!

 

[freddy the beard]

This is an excerpt that I just had to post. I am leaving his name out of the post. If you want to learn his name you will have to buy the book as he will be officially named in the book.

David the Spaceman [/B]

South Carolina – Short-stop and greatest pool player dope-fiend

David had his throat cut by David Sizemore, another pool player, who himself was later murdered. He survived the throat cutting.
David sometimes went off on big dope benders and once devised the most creative apparatus to get high that I had ever heard of. He had made a nice piece of money dealing, and took his profits and bought a kilo of cocaine. Standard price back then was about $50,000. He had a specially prepared fish tank that he dumped the whole kilo into, filled it up with water and dissolved the whole “ki.” He had already figured out the exact proportion of coke to water needed to get the best “hit.” He had an intravenous injection pump on a timer, just like they use in hospitals, hooked up to a needle in his arm that would dispense a controlled dose every so many minutes. He even had it fitted with an extra long cord that would allow him to get up and go to the bathroom. He had someone bring his meals in to him so he never had to leave his bedroom. This particular bender lasted several months.
Needless to say he soon developed a very paranoid personality, so on ordinary benders in motel rooms; he would keep the bathtub filled to the brim so he could quickly dump the contraband in case the room got raided. Then becoming even more careful, he flooded the floor around the tub to gather up any granules that might make it to the floor. These precautions while good in theory, proved impractical because he slipped on the floor and busted his head. A few stitches later and he was good as new.


Beard

 

[jay helfert]

This is an excerpt that I just had to post. I am leaving his name out of the post. If you want to learn his name you will have to buy the book as he will be officially named in the book.

David the Spaceman [/B]

South Carolina – Short-stop and greatest pool player dope-fiend

David had his throat cut by David Sizemore, another pool player, who himself was later murdered. He survived the throat cutting.
David sometimes went off on big dope benders and once devised the most creative apparatus to get high that I had ever heard of. He had made a nice piece of money dealing, and took his profits and bought a kilo of cocaine. Standard price back then was about $50,000. He had a specially prepared fish tank that he dumped the whole kilo into, filled it up with water and dissolved the whole “ki.” He had already figured out the exact proportion of coke to water needed to get the best “hit.” He had an intravenous injection pump on a timer, just like they use in hospitals, hooked up to a needle in his arm that would dispense a controlled dose every so many minutes. He even had it fitted with an extra long cord that would allow him to get up and go to the bathroom. He had someone bring his meals in to him so he never had to leave his bedroom. This particular bender lasted several months.
Needless to say he soon developed a very paranoid personality, so on ordinary benders in motel rooms; he would keep the bathtub filled to the brim so he could quickly dump the contraband in case the room got raided. Then becoming even more careful, he flooded the floor around the tub to gather up any granules that might make it to the floor. These precautions while good in theory, proved impractical because he slipped on the floor and busted his head. A few stitches later and he was good as new.


Beard

I never knew his real name. His pool nickname (and the only name I knew him by) was the name of the state he came from. I won't say unless you ask me too. It was weird seeing him after that, with the long scar across his neck. He acted like it was no big deal. I got the chills every time I looked at him. Next couple of times I saw Sizemore I kept my distance. I had no idea he was that dangerous.

Last time I saw Sizemore was in Dayton, he and Youngblood did a little business for 400 with me in the middle. Nothing I could do about it as I was busy playing in the tournament. I had just made a serious 6K score, so it was small change to me at the time. Youngblood actually tried to cheat me playing Tonk but I beat him anyway. I won a hundred that he still owes me to this day! :wink: