Your First Pool-Room Experience

Mr. Bond

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I had already learned how to shoot on a home table, but wasn't old enough to go into a pool hall. So I did what most kids did and went to the arcade.

You remember the old school arcade? When there were only pinball machines, the air hockey table, that baseball game in the corner, a Rockola jukebox, and a single pool table.

Sometimes this old grey haired fat cat would come in to play pinball and smoke cigars. He'd play for hours on a dollar. A true gamer you could tell. I'd watch, amazed, how he worked the machine as if he owned it. Sometimes, if I watched long enough, he'd give me the free credits he won before he left..

...Years later when I finally reached 18, I was legally allowed to go into the pool hall (in the daytime hours at least). But for many months, I didnt have the nerve. I knew thats where the hustlers were, and I knew they'd be watching, the second I stepped in the door.

I finally built up the courage one day and just decided that I would play dumb - as if I had never played the game before and was just looking for a way to pass the time. No one was gonna make a sucker outa me.

My heart pounded. My mind raced. The walk to the pool room door from the car seemed like it was 10 miles. What kind of evil looks was I about to get?

I eased in the door...it was black inside except over the tables...my eyes needed to adjust so I looked down as if to check my shoe for something...I could feel the beads of sweat on my head as the waft of the door closing hit me... ok now. you. must. walk. in. and. face. the. room. I forced my feet forward and took off walking across the room like I owned the place.

As my head returned back up to level, to my surprise, I was met with the sight of a 12 foot snooker table... with a game laid out on it, well in progress. I didnt know much about snoooker at the time so it was intriguing to say the least....what was this giant table for? What the hell are so many balls doing on the table and why do they all have the wrong number?

The fear of the unknown room... the darkness and smoke...the leary faces...the giant strange table...it was all becoming to much....

...maybe I should leave......

When all of a sudden...a big boomy fat-cat santa claus voice rings out across the room...HEYYYYYY LITTLE MAN ! WHERE YA BEEN!

what? surely this is a mistake? someone is talking to me?

It was the fat cat from the arcade...there he was in the pool hall, parked at the snooker table, next to a cigar and a rocks glass, hollering for me to come over and see him.

What he didn't realize is - by calling me over like that, out loud, he had just automatically made me the coolest kid in the room!

I was IN like FLYNN. Of all the people in the room to hang with, I was hanging with THE fat cat....

Shoooooot.... all you tourists better look out now.

I lived at that room for about four years straight.


*cue dramatic music*

Fat Cat taught me to play a hard game on a large table. Something I have been grateful for ever since. Because once you can master a 10 or 12 foot snooker table...a standard 9 foot pocket table is a walk in the park.

He passed away many years ago, but props to you Fat Cat. I hope they have some sweet tables in Heaven.
 
First Pool Room Experience

I think it was the room in the Neil House here in Columbus in the 1950s . I was about 7 or 8 years old and we were only there a few minutes , I remember the feel of the place, I have never been in another room that was that opulent since.
I wonder if any of them even exist any more?
I would travel just to see them.
 
I remember in the 60's going to Pete's Pool Hall in joliet,illinois...It was in the basement of a 4 story commercial building built approx 1910...Soon as you entered you were met with a room completely filled with thick cigarette smoke..No windows no ventillation....
Another pool hall was in a building built about in the 1880's...It had ceilings about 16 ft high....The old decorated tin was on and the entrance to the building had 2 huge doors at least 2 inches thick and at least 8 ft tall...It had radiator heat and in the coldest of winter there was ice that had formed on one of the brick walls...
 
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Glad to see a thread for this, brings back so many memories. My first experience with this great game was when I was to short to even see over the table. My father was a carpenter by trade, and would usually take me along to work when he couldn't find a babysitter.

After work we'd stop by the local pub on the way home and he'd keep me entertained by putting the balls on the table and setting me on top of it. I'd get a kick out of pushing them around and rolling them into each other. As I got older, I got tall enough to actually see over the table and hold a cue level.

Probably the biggest adjustment I had to make when learning how to play was both cradling the cue and holding it level enough to shoot straight. The next biggest lesson after that for me was learning how to plan the game and play shots out in my head before making them. Learning how to use english to get good position was a challenge, but very necessary.

During college my friends and I would go to pool halls to rent out the regulation tables. Bigger tables, smaller pockets, so after playing for a few hours on these table we'd leave and start making rounds at the local bars, playing for small money. Was very fun, shots were easy after playing on regulation tables, and there were many nights we didn't even have to pay for drinks(loser buys the winner a beer is a great wager).
 
I grew up with a table in my house and a father who wasn't a player but would play with me a lot. He would always hit the cue ball just hard enough to make the ball, and only used one kind of enligsh, follow.

One year we went to a campground for an entire month during the summer. I was probably about 10 or so. Wolf's Den in Knox, PA. They had an arcade that introduced me to what would become my favorite game for the month, Truxxon. (Some spaceshit shooting game that was also known as "RaidenII" i think.

Oh and the arcade also had a pool table, but it was in horrible shape - dirty balls a a vast selection of crappy dinged up curved, old sticks. I didn't care to play on it at all, as I wasn't really into pool that much. At the time, I would just play with my dad for fun to spend time together.

One day while waiting in line for Truxxon (yes, there was a line, because it was the coolest game in the arcade!) some older kid was maybe halfway through playing a game of 8 ball with his cutie-pie girlfriend. Some unknown force pulled me in that direction as I went over and put up my quarters and after about 20 minutes they finished their game. I don't remember much in between the time I racked the balls and when his fist bloodied my nose for embarassing him in front of his her, but I remember running back to the camper crying and didn't care to play any more pool that month.
 
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For the longest time growing up at home, whenever I would go downstairs and play pool, my dad would come down and play with me for hours and hours. After a while he would only come down near the end of the night and put up two quarters on the light and grab "Midnight" (he had a black metal cue that seemed so awesome at the time) and we'd play our big money game of the night. This lasted a few months, then eventually he stopped coming downstairs to play, and I'd have to remind him to come downstairs to play. Then I'd have to come up and beg and plead for him to come down and play at all. My dad was the first person to ever "quit me" playing pool, I think it happened when I was 13 or 14.

A few years later, it was "about time" to pay the big bucks to get the felt re-done for the first time since he bought the table. It had the same felt on it since I was in diapers. There was a stain in the "kitcken" to prove it. The rail cushions had stuff growing on them on the outside of the felt.

Mike Steiner from the Q Club (now closed) came and refelted it with red Mali wool cloth and put new rails on it and then even stuck around played a few games with me, then said he'd play a few more, then a few more. I didn't understand why at the time, but he told me to never change the way I shot pool. I had an underhand (palm up) grip on the butt of the cue, and used a praying mantis bridge, and he was just giddy about watching me shoot i guess. He was the person who taught me a proper closed bridge and also how to do a curve shot, which I practed a looooot afterwards. It feels so natural to elevate the cue for a curve when you have an underhand grip, FYI. I ended up being able to curve a cue ball around a blocker, probably before I could consistenly make a spot shot, LOL.

He told me about the Q Club pool hall he had and told me I should come by some time to play in their weekend tournament. The first time I showed up happened to also be the first time I ever played a game of 9 ball. Luckily for me it was a handicapped tourney. I don't remember what they made me play as, but I do remember grabbing a cue off the rack and missing an easy shot to take 3rd place against a bunch of much older men, some of which were grumpier than others regarding my handicap or fundamentals or pool hall etiquette. I won just enough money to buy my first "nice" cue. It was a plain Mali cue, lol, but it was a Balabushka compared to the the screw on tip cues from Koenings that I had been playing with for years.

I liked it so much, that about a year later I had a master craftsman friend of mine (named Duane Roberts) make his very first pool cue case. It was very simple case design (especially compared to the last one he made me - see my signature), but had some very pretty wood. He took a piece of black walnut and routed out slots for the butt and shaft then took a piece of curly maple for the lid, connected the two with a couple hidden barrel hinges, put on a handle, put it all together and BAM - I felt like Tom Cruise in the Color of Money.

"What's in the case?"
"DOOM!"

LOL, those were good times. I totally thought I was awesome at pool back then. (sigh)

(I kinda wish I still had that cue and case just as a conversation piece. lol)
 
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Chicago, mid to late seventies, a place called either "House of Lords" or "Lords Billiards", I can't remember which, was in the basement at the Harlem and Irving Plaza shopping center. My buddy from grade school and I, wanna be pool bums, used to walk about three miles to go there and usually get chased out. We were 13 or 14 but looked older so, if it wasn't crowded, the guy would let us stay. Learned to play there from the "sharks" if they weren't busy in a money game. I did'nt have any. Place closed around 1979 or so and we started going to a place called the "Corner Pocket" at Milwaukee & Devon. Had a car by then, real beater but got me to the pool hall. Great times!
 
Charleston, SC

I grew up having a table in my garage. After playing what I though was 'awesome pool', I ventured out. My first experience in a 'real' pool hall was the Family Gameroom in Charleston. The first time I stepped foot in the Gameroom was on my 18th birthday. I had just graduated from high school and thought I was Cock of the Walk. I figured out pretty quick that I had a long way to go as far as my pool game was concerned. The place was friendly as there was no alcohol served there. There were 5 or 6 BGC 9foot tables, 25 4 X 8 tables and one tight playing barbox in the back. A jukebox and 6 or 7 stand up video games lined the walls. The place was next door to a pool hall / bar called Burbon Street. There was a ton of action in the Gameroom back in the late 90's - early 2000's. Tony Ellin and Archer would show up fairly regular. Great place to learn and you didn't have to worry about the drunks.

The Gameroom closed in 04' or 05'. Shame.

Anybody else play in Charleston??
 
Pool Hall

JAX was a pool hall near the corner of West King and Charlotte Streets in Lancaster. I was 15 and had played pool at my friend Scott's house. His brother used to hustle us kids playing 9-ball and "Mum". It was great fun.
On this occassion, Scott's brother Greg, took us into JAX with him. It was a concrete block building, with a little sign outside that just said "JAX". We had to walk up a short flight of rickety wooden steps with a landing at the top. When we opened the door, I could see a short dark hallway with lights and the clicking of the balls resonating at the end. When we reached the opening, I was amazed at the sight. It was not a huge room, but there were 7 or 8 old looking tables. Just to the left of the entrance was a small counter where this little dark haired guy sat. I discovered by observation, that this was where you clocked in and received the balls for a table.
The walls were wood paneled and there were big long lights over each table. There was sort of a church pew type bench against the wall that ran the entire length of the room. Those lights produced the only light in the room, so it was dark along the walls, which actually made for a comfortable feeling. There were mostly older guys playing points, smoking cigars and cigarettes. There was one pocketless table, which seemed odd to me.
When we entered the room, the little man behind the counter greeted Greg as if he knew him and at the same time, another gentleman approached us and begin giving Greg the dirt. I knew we were safe then. As it was, Greg got into some 9-ball action with the bantering man who had raised our attention at the doorway. Scott and I were given balls to one of the tables and we were on our own. Ths was to be the first 9' table I had encountered, as Scott had an 8' table at his house. I remember how I was going to show everyone how good I was. Scott and I grabbed a couple house cues and racked to play 9-ball. Scott broke the balls. Then I shot at the one and missed, Scott shot at the one and missed and I, well, we didn't need to worry about impressing anyone for sure. And, by looking around the room, nobody really cared.
I remember getting a kick at the wood score beads at each table and how easy they were to flick one across the wire with the cue stick when one of would win a game. Also, when the players at a table were done shooting, they would just hollar, "Time Browney!", to the little guy at the counter. Soon enough, we learned his name was "Browney". Because there wasn't much difference in height when Browney was sitting in the chair or standing to clock someone out, made us laugh.
When we packed it up for the day, Greg, apparently had won some money. So, he took care of the table time which was a whole $.50 an hour per person.
From there we went down to the Rendezvous Steak Shop and Greg treated us to the best cheese steak sandwich I had ever had.
What a day!
JAX closed in 1974. I later learned that Jack Gage was quite an accomplished Billiards player who could run 10's and more. The tables were old Victors. There were some good shooters that came out of JAX, Steve Knight, Lenny Elliott, Greg Smith, Doug Keane. Knight was the best of them.
In the year or two before JAX did close, it became known more for copping a bag or so, than shooting pool. Which was part of it's demise.
That would be the last poolroom in Lancaster until 1993.
I sure remember that day.
 
first time in a pool hall

Although I'd played on toy tables as a pre-teen, and bumper pool in a tavern with my dad at 12, the first time I ever got up the nerve to enter an actual pool room was in 1955. It was "George's" on Second Street in La Crosse, Wisconsin. There were four very old tables; I don't remember the maker. What I remember was the smell of beer and cigars, the ancient, smoke-stained house cues, the score strings over the tables, the spitoons, and most of all the wonderful "clack" of the old bakelite balls. Customers were required to be 18 (the legal age for beer back then), but during the day they would let kids in if they behaved themselves. Other pool halls in La Crosse included Ed's Cigar Store, Babe's and Sheldon's. Sheldon's had three old Brunswick pool tables and a beautiful 9-foot Brunswick billiard table. The place included a classic soda fountain, magazine and newspaper rack and the Vegas odds on sports events taped to the top of the candy counter. Pool was ten cents a game (with portly old "Romie" there to rack the balls and collect the dime) for two players, fifteen cents for ring games. Beer (Heileman's, Hamm's and Peerless) was fifteen cents for an 8 oz. bottle, and a quarter for a 12 ouncer. When Wisconsin instituted its first sales tax, Art Sheldon raised the price of everything by a penny, - eleven cents for a game and sixteen cents for a small beer! I could barely wait to get my fake ID at sixteen so I could play in these legendary establishments!
Donny Lutz
BCA/ACS C.I.
 
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