Fatboy said:
Bob Wallace, who owned the place had the exact same birthday as me. July 19, 19--. He was Keith's first mentor and a real father figure for him. He passed away a few years back. One helluva guy.
Toupee Jay!!
- Thread starter Russ Chewning
- Start date
Bob Wallace, who owned the place had the exact same birthday as me. July 19, 19--. He was Keith's first mentor and a real father figure for him. He passed away a few years back. One helluva guy.
hemicudas said:
The way it was relayed to me was that Bob Wallace and his family saved Keith from life as a ward of the State.
When Keith's mother passed away, he was a young boy, and his family literally busted up. There was no family unit anymore. His two older brothers scrammed to do their own thing, and Keith's father had some problems of his own that he was dealing with which interfered with the raising of three sons.
At this time, though, young Keith had already become very passionate about pool. According to Keith's older brother Mark, Keith still attended school on a regular basis at this time and had a 4.0 average. He would most days eat breakfast in the pool room, go to school, and then return to the pool room for dinner. His mentors growing up were pool players, gamblers, stakehorses, and horse people. Sometimes the owners of the pool room would actually lock up the pool room at closing, with young Keith sleeping inside safely and out of harm's way.
One day, Keith won a whole bunch of money at the horse races and didn't know where to keep it when he went to school that morning. His first class was physical education, and he didn't want to leave his monies in his locker. So he asked his gym teacher if he wouldn't mind holding it for Keith during class, to which the teacher said sure. When Keith forked over the dough, it was a very large amount, five figures, and the gym teacher became suspicious, taking Keith to the principal's office. That is when the State got involved in Keith's home life and soon thereafter put him in foster homes.
Bob Wallace and his family liked Keith a bunch and decided to go to court and fight for Keith to be a part of their family; thus, Keith was adopted and was afforded an opportunity to be a part of a real family unit. It is something that Keith is very appreciative of today. He has fond memories of the Wallaces.
JAM
When Keith's mother passed away, he was a young boy, and his family literally busted up. There was no family unit anymore. His two older brothers scrammed to do their own thing, and Keith's father had some problems of his own that he was dealing with which interfered with the raising of three sons.
At this time, though, young Keith had already become very passionate about pool. According to Keith's older brother Mark, Keith still attended school on a regular basis at this time and had a 4.0 average. He would most days eat breakfast in the pool room, go to school, and then return to the pool room for dinner. His mentors growing up were pool players, gamblers, stakehorses, and horse people. Sometimes the owners of the pool room would actually lock up the pool room at closing, with young Keith sleeping inside safely and out of harm's way.
One day, Keith won a whole bunch of money at the horse races and didn't know where to keep it when he went to school that morning. His first class was physical education, and he didn't want to leave his monies in his locker. So he asked his gym teacher if he wouldn't mind holding it for Keith during class, to which the teacher said sure. When Keith forked over the dough, it was a very large amount, five figures, and the gym teacher became suspicious, taking Keith to the principal's office. That is when the State got involved in Keith's home life and soon thereafter put him in foster homes.
Bob Wallace and his family liked Keith a bunch and decided to go to court and fight for Keith to be a part of their family; thus, Keith was adopted and was afforded an opportunity to be a part of a real family unit. It is something that Keith is very appreciative of today. He has fond memories of the Wallaces.
JAM
My Chicago name
Nobody in Chicago called me Freddy the Beard (except Bugs). Only Freddy the Banker. The Beard nickname I picked up in Miami and followed me wherever I went on the road. Louis Esposito from Philly anointed me the Beard at Congress Billiards in N. Miami.
The Banking Beard
hemicudas said:
Nobody in Chicago called me Freddy the Beard (except Bugs). Only Freddy the Banker. The Beard nickname I picked up in Miami and followed me wherever I went on the road. Louis Esposito from Philly anointed me the Beard at Congress Billiards in N. Miami.
The Banking Beard
freddy the beard said:
And Billy anointed you Freddie The Beard, Without The Beard!
Danny D
Naw, actually it was Danny DiLiberto. Billy picked it up from Danny.
the Beard who still has a beard
jay helfert said:
Naw, actually it was Danny DiLiberto. Billy picked it up from Danny.
the Beard who still has a beard
Gamesmanship
I can't help myself, I must respond to this gamesmanship post and cite a perfect example of how powerful it can be. I was playing in Monroe Brock's big tournament in Richmond, KY at the Maverick Club. Keith was my opponent and we were playing 6 out of 11 short rack 9ball banks. The score was 5 games for Keith to my zero when I broke the balls and did'nt make anything. Keith banked 4 and missed a tough bank for the session ball and left me hanging in the corner pocket at the foot of the table with no shot. Responding criminally to a hopeless situation, I took a ball out of the ball return and put it on the spot, giving myself a cross-side. Keith, thinking HE had broke the balls and made one, did'nt bat an eye. I banked 3 from there, played safe, and wound up winning that game and the next five to take the session! There were sweators in the bleachers that knew what had happened, and they were writhing in their seats trying to mentally tip Keith off. Later, Keith after counting the balls left, knew something was wrong, but couldnt put his finger on it. I cooled him out by arguing that no matter what, he still needed 1 ball, thats the one thing we were both in agreement about. He also agreed that I banked 3, so what was it we were arguing about? Gamesmanship was my compensation for my weak shot-making skills.
Did I feel guilty? Nah.
the Beard
jrhendy said:
I can't help myself, I must respond to this gamesmanship post and cite a perfect example of how powerful it can be. I was playing in Monroe Brock's big tournament in Richmond, KY at the Maverick Club. Keith was my opponent and we were playing 6 out of 11 short rack 9ball banks. The score was 5 games for Keith to my zero when I broke the balls and did'nt make anything. Keith banked 4 and missed a tough bank for the session ball and left me hanging in the corner pocket at the foot of the table with no shot. Responding criminally to a hopeless situation, I took a ball out of the ball return and put it on the spot, giving myself a cross-side. Keith, thinking HE had broke the balls and made one, did'nt bat an eye. I banked 3 from there, played safe, and wound up winning that game and the next five to take the session! There were sweators in the bleachers that knew what had happened, and they were writhing in their seats trying to mentally tip Keith off. Later, Keith after counting the balls left, knew something was wrong, but couldnt put his finger on it. I cooled him out by arguing that no matter what, he still needed 1 ball, thats the one thing we were both in agreement about. He also agreed that I banked 3, so what was it we were arguing about? Gamesmanship was my compensation for my weak shot-making skills.
Did I feel guilty? Nah.
the Beard
freddy the beard said:
Nice move Freddie. You are too slick.
Gamesmanship ll
Ok, I cant help myself again, one more prime example of how strong gamesmanship can be. I was in Milwaukee, WI playing in the National 8ball bar team league championships in 82 or 84 (I forgot). There were about 200 teams and this was the final shot of the final game of the final match. My team was a strong one, Artie Bodendorfer, Johnny Abbruzzo (greatest team 8ball player ever), George Powalski (a legitimate 250 ball runner) and me, I was the anchor man. I wound up frozen on the long rail, with the 8 ball between the foot spot and the pocket, and dead straight in. It was not that hard a shot but it was worth $5000, and it was hard to keep the trembles from showing. Needless to say, I dogged it brutally and I miscued. Now I may have been shaky, but I hadnt lost my ability to think on my feet, so as the cue ball drizzled away from the rail, I caught it with the bottom of the shaft of my stick and rolled it back to be refrozen to the rail, leaving my opponent a tough cut shot on his last ball. It all occurred in one smooth motion, and in those days you could make a guy shoot again after a foul but there was no cue ball in hand. My opponent shot, missed and left me the length of the table away from the 8. Revitalized now, and with nothing else left to lose, I had already embarassed myself, I hit the 8 as hard as I could, and the q ball flew around the table and fortunately didn't scratch. We made the front page of the Billiard News.
When you are not blessed with natural talent, you have to develop other skills.
the Beard
Ok, I cant help myself again, one more prime example of how strong gamesmanship can be. I was in Milwaukee, WI playing in the National 8ball bar team league championships in 82 or 84 (I forgot). There were about 200 teams and this was the final shot of the final game of the final match. My team was a strong one, Artie Bodendorfer, Johnny Abbruzzo (greatest team 8ball player ever), George Powalski (a legitimate 250 ball runner) and me, I was the anchor man. I wound up frozen on the long rail, with the 8 ball between the foot spot and the pocket, and dead straight in. It was not that hard a shot but it was worth $5000, and it was hard to keep the trembles from showing. Needless to say, I dogged it brutally and I miscued. Now I may have been shaky, but I hadnt lost my ability to think on my feet, so as the cue ball drizzled away from the rail, I caught it with the bottom of the shaft of my stick and rolled it back to be refrozen to the rail, leaving my opponent a tough cut shot on his last ball. It all occurred in one smooth motion, and in those days you could make a guy shoot again after a foul but there was no cue ball in hand. My opponent shot, missed and left me the length of the table away from the 8. Revitalized now, and with nothing else left to lose, I had already embarassed myself, I hit the 8 as hard as I could, and the q ball flew around the table and fortunately didn't scratch. We made the front page of the Billiard News.
When you are not blessed with natural talent, you have to develop other skills.
the Beard
freddy the beard said:
Freddy, Did you play in the ring games with Shake and Bake et all, in those days, too?
Ring Game
Since I was a notorious slow starter, I played in few ring games. Too much time between innings. My body would start to harden like cement while I was waiting for a shot.
the Beard
Tennesseejoe said:
Since I was a notorious slow starter, I played in few ring games. Too much time between innings. My body would start to harden like cement while I was waiting for a shot.
the Beard
For the non believers,
Here is a PM from Avenger101:
George Pawelski
Freddy,
I am good friends with George Pawelski. He still lives in Racine and says hi. We visit Chicago frequently and would like to get together for dinner sometime.
Please give George a call at ************** He would like to talk to you.
I told him the story you posted a few weeks ago. You were teamed with Artie, George, and Abruzzo in a national team tournament and miscued on the hill-hill 8 ball. You then dragged the cue ball back to the rail. He stated that he remembers it like it was yesterday. Good story.
Give him a call.
freddy the beard said:
Here is a PM from Avenger101:
George Pawelski
Freddy,
I am good friends with George Pawelski. He still lives in Racine and says hi. We visit Chicago frequently and would like to get together for dinner sometime.
Please give George a call at ************** He would like to talk to you.
I told him the story you posted a few weeks ago. You were teamed with Artie, George, and Abruzzo in a national team tournament and miscued on the hill-hill 8 ball. You then dragged the cue ball back to the rail. He stated that he remembers it like it was yesterday. Good story.
Give him a call.