hemicudas said:
Larry Price defeats Louis Demarco in the banks final. As Lil Jon looks on.
That's a pretty cool graphic shot, Hemi!
When Keith hit the State of Maryland, 'bout 5 years ago right after the conclusion of Capital City Classic, he landed himself on Pulaski Highway and settled in quite nicely at Hot Shots, a pool room in Baltimore.
The action was plentiful. There was always a little bit of EVERYTHING at Hot Shots. Kentucky might boast about its fine bump players, but Maryland is known for its coin tossers, some of the best in the country. Urban legend has it that local billiard parlor owner Greenie lost his pool room up on Randallstown Road to another, gambling out back.
Hot Shots definitely was the place to enjoy games of stake during this era, and about midnight, the place would be jumping with the likes of local action players Piano Man, Cigar Tom, Squirrel, White Max, Bobby Hawk, Black Henry, Fat Wayne, Little Petey, Black Brandon, and Timmy Crown, just to name a few. Keith nestled in real snug, lodging at a facility right next door, the Regal Inn, worthy of a thread of its own.
Keith made a few scores at Hot Shots, but he sometimes wore the infamous target on his back, being hit by quite a few local players, whose game Keith didn't know. The above-referenced Greenie took him off for a few sandbags tossing coins out front, and Virginia Young Gun Pooky, when he used to shoot pool, negotiated a huge spot from Keith and gobbled himself up a nice fat dime for his efforts. White Max and Keith had an all-night back-and-forth one-pocket marathon, with Max coming out on top. Win or lose, though, Keith was digging the non-stop action.
One night, a couple of regulars knocked on Keith's hotel door, telling him to come quick, that there was a road player in the room wanting to gamble it up big. Keith rose from the dead and scurried himself next door to Hot Shots. He checked out the road player, made brief eye contact with him, and then quickly excused himself, leaving almost as fast as he came. As it turned out, the road player was Larry Price from West Virginia, and being a friend of Larry's, Keith didn't want to be a knock. So he took a night off from Hot Shots that evening, giving Larry a little respect, something old-school players are wont to do.
Larry did find himself some action, but I can't remember who he played or what the outcome was. The next day, I got a chance to talk to Larry. In the pool room, his demeanor is low key, and he's quiet as a churchmouse, but out of the pool room, he's got a good ol' Southern twang and seems quite amiable.
Hot Shots used to be on every road player's atlas, but in recent times, the action in the great State of Maryland has diminished. The pool rooms available today, at least within driving distance for me in D.C., are generally non-smoking, alcohol-serving sports lounges with blood-mud food and very loud music.
Larry Price is a rare breed, indeed. A true road player. I enjoyed seeing the picture of him at the DCC, reminding me of the last time I saw him. His hair is a little shorter in the pic. Thanks for sharing.
JAM