Weldon Rodgers and “Bakersfield Bob” were both from a small town in Arizona, Eloi I think. I don’t remember, for a goodly number of years, anybody beating any of us playing even up bar pool. Weldon and Bobby played great with the big rock while I did most of the small cue ball playing.
We ended up being around each other quite a bit in Woodward, Oklahoma, (pronounced with the second w silent). We all thought it was home to the best steak house in the world. We certainly tested it every night. There was a ton of action at the Hilltop Bar and Motel. Sixty miles away in Longdale resided Bill Duggan, a weak player who might arrest you and throw you in jail for not gambling. When Bill said “the store is open” that meant you could bet anything you wanted.
Players like “One Eyed Tony”, Andy O’Gean, and a host of other excellent players who’s names don’t come immediately to mind, frequented this great action spot. Ten miles south of Woodward, in Moreland, lived Verl Horn. Verl owned the local body shop and tow truck company and rolled out the red carpet for all visiting pool players. It wasn’t uncommon for him to give a gentleman such as myself a couple of thousand dollars and the use of a new Cadillac while I was in town. Later in life, Verl dabbled in cue making and did a pretty good job at that.
I knew Weldon and Bobby before the Woodward era. We had had a very good friend and a sure to be top player named Johnny Draine, from Tucson. Johnny sadly died in Vietnam in the service of his country.
After reflecting back about all the years in my pool playing life, I have to say Weldon (Those of us who were close to him, prefer to call him Junior.) was the greatest pool hustler who ever lived. To wit: 1... He started his trips with $10,000 or more; that’s $80,000 in today’s money. 2...He carried a thousand dollar bill in his hatband. 3...He tried to get a good game and he was a very fine game maker and then bet as much money as possible. 4...He was honest to a fault with those with whom he did business. 5...He raised his family properly and if you were Junior’s friend, you just couldn’t have a better guy in your corner.
I was asked what I meant by using the Weldon Rodgers school of gambling. When I had lost a game of Snooker for $300 and raised the bet to $1,000 a game, even though my opponent had run the entire table. In a famous match of Junior’s. He was with our mutual friend Will Willingham and playing Johnny Edwards in Bowling Green, Kentucky. The first set was an eight ahead and Johnny ran the whole set out. Instead of quitting, as many modern day greats would, Weldon and Will doubled the bet. Junior ended up getting the money.
One time in Woodward, I had “stalled” with Indian John, a shortstop player and gotten him to spot me a seven ball. It was a work of art on my part and Junior was in with it. I won $3,000 and was delighted with the effort. We had played in Longdale and we drove back to Woodward to our motel. As we were pulling into our parking space in front of our room, Weldon hollered at me, “There’s John. He’s still got $300 left. I’m gonna go get it.” “Junior,” I cautioned, “we’ve already got almost all the money. Why don’t you leave the poor guy alone?” But Weldon liked to get all the money, so he lost the entire $3,000 plus $1,500 of ours. Please don’t get the wrong idea. This was a rare exception. Weldon practically always got the money.
He was fast, actually winning two or three foot races when we were together. The most famous of which was against Eddie Bellmore, a smart guy who got crippled for life in Los Angeles when he got robbed and wouldn’t give up his watch. Weldon and I got shot at a couple of times and threatened with being tarred and feathered but we survived and enjoyed our times together greatly.
I’ve been conversing with Freddie the Beard and I’m going to put a little teaser out there for you interested readers. We’ve been threatening for years to put together a Top Ten Rogues’ List. I don’t know exactly when this will come about but we will get it done and I promise we really have some qualified candidates.
We ended up being around each other quite a bit in Woodward, Oklahoma, (pronounced with the second w silent). We all thought it was home to the best steak house in the world. We certainly tested it every night. There was a ton of action at the Hilltop Bar and Motel. Sixty miles away in Longdale resided Bill Duggan, a weak player who might arrest you and throw you in jail for not gambling. When Bill said “the store is open” that meant you could bet anything you wanted.
Players like “One Eyed Tony”, Andy O’Gean, and a host of other excellent players who’s names don’t come immediately to mind, frequented this great action spot. Ten miles south of Woodward, in Moreland, lived Verl Horn. Verl owned the local body shop and tow truck company and rolled out the red carpet for all visiting pool players. It wasn’t uncommon for him to give a gentleman such as myself a couple of thousand dollars and the use of a new Cadillac while I was in town. Later in life, Verl dabbled in cue making and did a pretty good job at that.
I knew Weldon and Bobby before the Woodward era. We had had a very good friend and a sure to be top player named Johnny Draine, from Tucson. Johnny sadly died in Vietnam in the service of his country.
After reflecting back about all the years in my pool playing life, I have to say Weldon (Those of us who were close to him, prefer to call him Junior.) was the greatest pool hustler who ever lived. To wit: 1... He started his trips with $10,000 or more; that’s $80,000 in today’s money. 2...He carried a thousand dollar bill in his hatband. 3...He tried to get a good game and he was a very fine game maker and then bet as much money as possible. 4...He was honest to a fault with those with whom he did business. 5...He raised his family properly and if you were Junior’s friend, you just couldn’t have a better guy in your corner.
I was asked what I meant by using the Weldon Rodgers school of gambling. When I had lost a game of Snooker for $300 and raised the bet to $1,000 a game, even though my opponent had run the entire table. In a famous match of Junior’s. He was with our mutual friend Will Willingham and playing Johnny Edwards in Bowling Green, Kentucky. The first set was an eight ahead and Johnny ran the whole set out. Instead of quitting, as many modern day greats would, Weldon and Will doubled the bet. Junior ended up getting the money.
One time in Woodward, I had “stalled” with Indian John, a shortstop player and gotten him to spot me a seven ball. It was a work of art on my part and Junior was in with it. I won $3,000 and was delighted with the effort. We had played in Longdale and we drove back to Woodward to our motel. As we were pulling into our parking space in front of our room, Weldon hollered at me, “There’s John. He’s still got $300 left. I’m gonna go get it.” “Junior,” I cautioned, “we’ve already got almost all the money. Why don’t you leave the poor guy alone?” But Weldon liked to get all the money, so he lost the entire $3,000 plus $1,500 of ours. Please don’t get the wrong idea. This was a rare exception. Weldon practically always got the money.
He was fast, actually winning two or three foot races when we were together. The most famous of which was against Eddie Bellmore, a smart guy who got crippled for life in Los Angeles when he got robbed and wouldn’t give up his watch. Weldon and I got shot at a couple of times and threatened with being tarred and feathered but we survived and enjoyed our times together greatly.
I’ve been conversing with Freddie the Beard and I’m going to put a little teaser out there for you interested readers. We’ve been threatening for years to put together a Top Ten Rogues’ List. I don’t know exactly when this will come about but we will get it done and I promise we really have some qualified candidates.
....Gerry