PoolSynergy21: Questions for La Voyante!

 Dear La Voyante, the Mysterious: 

I an older player, and I have been away from pool for a very long time. How can I improve my game after such a long lay-off? I'd like to get back up to speed, but I don't even know where to begin! With your mysterious arcane abilities, I know you can help me.

 Signed,
 Rufus from Texas


Funny you should ask, Rufus. As it turns out, the very same question has been posed for the 21st edition of the PoolSynergy project, the online collaborative effort in which pool bloggers write about a single topic. As a fond reader of PoolSynergy and a devout practitioner of the arcane arts, I, La Voyante the Mysterious, have bent my entire will to answering this very excellent question.

Joe "The Meatman" Balsis

The stars tell La Voyante that the answer you seek is in the possession of one Joe Balsis, a professional pool player. The stars also tell La Voyante that Mr. Balsis has unfortunately been dead since 1995, so getting instructional advice from him may be a challenge.  However, no man, living or dead, is better suited to seek it than La Voyante!

Why is Joe Balsis, the one they call "The Meatman," the key to your question? It is simply this: Mr. Balsis was a national champion as a young boy, abandoned the game shortly after World War II, but then came back 17 years later to become champion again. Historians tell La Voyante that Mr. Balsis holds the American record for the longest layoff in championship pool. 

La Voyante is a great man, but also a humble one, and so he turns to the expertise of George Fels, the Billiards Digest columnist, for more information about the one they call The Meatman. La Voyante has learned from reading Mr. Fels' expert columns that The Meatman was the son of a poolroom owner from Minersville, Pennsylvania, won the Philadelphia City Boys Championship in 1932 at age 11, and then went on to win four consecutive National Junior Pocket Billiard Titles. So famous was young Joe Balsis that his picture appeared in The New York Times, right next to fellow pool stars Ralph Greenleaf and Willie Hoppe.

George Fels

But Joe Balsis abandoned the game shortly after World War II. Instead of pool, Joe Balsis went to work for his father-in-law's meat business.  “Thus began the professional game’s longest known layoff,” Mr. Fels tells us.  The Meatman earned both a good living and his troubling descriptive nickname during these years.

Another of La Voyante's Favorite Books

It was after the birth of his third child that Joe Balsis returned to pool. The sport was gaining again in popularity, largely the result of the Paul Newman film, The Hustler, which was released in 1961. (You can read about the renaissance sparked by that book in one of La Voyante's favorite books, Hustler Days.) In 1964 a Philadelphia room owner sponsored Joe Balsis for the prestigious Billiard Room Proprietors Association of America tournament, held in New York. It would be the first big tournament after his comeback. The Meatman finished with a 7-6 record, just passably good, but then would go on to win the BRPAA tournament outright the following year. Joe Balsis could now claim junior and world championships an incredible 32 years apart.

In 1966 Joe Balsis placed second to Irving Crane in the Billiard Congress of America’s inaugural straight pool U.S. Open in Chicago, won the Johnston City all-around, and took out Willie Mosconi during a high-profile competition in California as Mosconi was attempting his own return to pool. Mr. Balsis during this California event beat Mr. Mosconi in the finals and also pocketed an average of 22 balls per inning during the tournament, shattering an old record held by Mosconi. (You can read more about this tournament and about the prickly Mr. Mosconi in The Hustler & The Champ, another of La Voyante's favorite books.)

La Voyante's Pool Instructional Device

According to Mr. Fels: “In the first 28 months of his professional pool career, Balsis competed in 10 major tournamens, wining five, second once, two fourths, two fifths. Overall, between 1965 and 1975, he may well have been the world’s best player … His peers shuddered at the thought of taking him on just as they once had been in awe of Mosconi.”

Mr. Balsis was inducted into the Billiard Congress Hall of Fame in 1982.

So, Rufus, back to your question: How should one train after a long lay-off from the sport? Only Joe Balsis can know for sure. After all, no man, dead or alive, has made such a come back as The Meatman. For your answer, La Voyante shall continue to consult his Ouija board. When La Voyante hears from the great beyond, so shall you!

About PoolSynergy
PoolSynergy is an online collaborative effort by pool and billiard bloggers, in which each agrees to write about a single theme. To read a list of the other fine contributions this month, check out PoolBum's excellent blog, which you can find here.  If you have a question for La Voyante or a suggested topic for the PoolSynergy project, please send it to R.A. Dyer, care of this email address. 

PoolSynergy20: The Hustlers' Jamboree

I’ve been thinking a lot about Johnston City lately, especially given that the 50th anniversary of the Hustlers Jamboree is just around the corner.  For those who have never heard of it, the famous tournament started out as a tiny backwoods affair. Eventually, however, it grew into one of the most celebrated pool competitions in American history.   The first Johnston City event featured one-pocket only and almost no spectators. The last had nine-ball, straight-pool, one-pocket — and so much gambling that it was raided by federal agents.


I've written plenty about Johnston City over the last several years and as a consequence I've received several letters from folks who witnessed all the mayhem first hand.  For my PoolSynergy contribution this month I figured I'd turn those letters into gold. Our assignment was to describe what makes for a great tournament experience.  Who better to opine about this topic than folks who were present for America's great Hustler Jamborees?

But before we get going, let me first provide the Cliff Notes explanation as to why you should care about Johnston City. As noted previously, the first of these events was conducted in 1961. The last was in 1972. They were organized by the brothers George and Paulie Jansco and drafted off the popularity of The Hustler, the famous movie featuring Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason. The tournaments were noteworthy for many reasons, not the least of which was their elevation of nine-ball as the official tournament game of pool and because they helped to establish Minnesota Fats as America's most famous pool player.  The tournaments were also the first significant pool events to bring gambling out of the shadows. In fact it was the gambling —and the romance that surrounded it —that attracted the national media to Johnston City.  Whether for good or bad, this is simply a fact.

Ross Parker Simons, center, with his Dad and unidentified man.

For those who are unfamiliar with the events, I've written a retrospective essay in this month's Billiards Digest. You can find it here.  There's also plenty of information about Johnston City in Hustler Days and The Hustler & The Champ.  I maintain a separate Johnston City blog with plenty of anecdotes, pictures and video about the event, which you can find here. And just above I've reproduced a video of the famous Minnesota Fats holding forth in Johnston City.

And now on to the letters:


          Gary Carlson writes that in 1965 or 1966 he piled into a Chevy Impala with a friend and the two drove down from Decatur, Illinois to Johnston City. And that's where he witnessed the famous "toilet brush" incident.


"I didn’t know what was going on — I knew nobody. The place was wall-to-wall packed. Difficult to see the action and it seemed somewhat disorganized. After watching endless 9-ball, we learned that the more interesting stuff was going on “out back.” I can’t recall (after all, this was about 45 years ago) if it was in a part of the same room walled off or a small building separate from the main room. I think we paid $5 for entry. It was north of the main building (which was like fifties deco), the latter which sat on the northwest quarter of the intersection. In any case, we were there only maybe a couple hours and the only memory I have was in this back room. I recall or heard of or saw “Jersey Red,” Eddie “Knoxville” Taylor, and “Big Daddy Warbucks” who I much later learned was Hubert Cokes. The match I recall was between Big Daddy and somebody else — I can’t recall who —seems like Taylor, but I’m not totally sure if Taylor or Red were even there that year and I just heard their names — but it was certainly Big Daddy. I also remember a LONG conversation about what the handicap would be. The game was going to be 8-ball and a race to something for $100 (good money back then). Now, instead of their bridge hand, Warbucks was to use his hat for a bridge and the other guy went into the toilet and returned with a big toilet brush." 

And here’s a note from John Rousseau, who read my Billiards Digest essay: 

“I am glad I went to Southern Illinois during that period and got to go to Johnson City every day. Grades sucked but it was quite an experience on life. I was there that night thanks to my deceit and larceny. The tickets for the broadcast were very expensive so I bought extra tickets for the regular tournament as they had no date or reference to ABC. We made a stink at the front door when they refused to admit us when Jim McKay yelled out, this is f------ live, let the a**holes in!”

Ross Parker Simons in 1965 with Boston Shorty.

Ross Parker Simons was just 13 when he want to Johnston City. That’s a picture of him on the right and above. Here's what he has to say: 

“When I was 13, my father took me out of school is Wisconsin for a road trip to Johnston City and the Jansco Brothers 1965 tournament. I don't recall my mother's reaction, although she couldn't have been too mad as she packed a cooler with fried chicken and seven ounce bottles of Schlitz for the overnight drive. ... Although I don't recall much about the games, I knew good pool and remember that Harold Worst was impressive.  Looked like a haberdasher and shot like a machine.  I also liked to watch one pocket.  What's funny about the picture of Boston Shorty now that I look at it is his bored sneer... like beat it kid.  But I don't remember anyone being rude to me, even the imperious Daddy Warbucks.  Saw Handsome Danny Jones there and he was, in fact, quite handsome.” 

You can read more at the Johnston City blog, including some recollections of Karen Fox, whose husband co-authored the autobiography of Minnesota Fats. And if you were old enough to remember Johnston City, please drop me a line.

Before I sign off, I would like to leave you with this last thought. I believe it's high time that George and Paulie Jansco, the late promoters of Johnston City, were inducted into the Billiard Congress Hall of Fame. They've already been inducted into the One Pocket Hall of Fame, but now it's time for them to be honored by the BCA. If you agree (or even if you don't) send a note to Billiards Digest or your favorite pool magazine.

About PoolSynergy
PoolSynergy is an online collaborative effort by pool and billiard bloggers, in which each agrees to write about a single theme. PoolSynergy submissions are published simultaneously by each of the participating blogs on the 15th of every month. To read a list of the other fine contributions this month, check out Mike Fieldhammer's excellent Billiard Coach blog, which you can find here.

-- R.A. Dyer

Boston Shorty versus Harold Worst

Boston Shorty, four-time winner of the Johnston City One-Pocket competition,  is remembered as one of the greatest one-pocket players ever. Harold Worst won the 1965 Johnston City tournament outright, as well as that year's Stardust Open. Worst could have been remembered as the most dominant player of the 1960s if not for his premature death (at age 37) from cancer.

You can watch the two legendary players battling it out in the video above. I really love the groovy jazz music in the background. Very atmospheric. And if you want to learn more, there's also Hustler Days. The book includes information about the famous Johnston City  tournaments, Worst's dominant play in 1965, and a reference to Jersey Red's travels with Boston Shorty. Freddy "The Beard" Bentivegna also has a link to a Jim McKay interview with Worst, which you can find here.

Wimpy Lassiter's World War II records

[You can also read this post and more at the poolhistory.com website]
Wimpy Lassiter spent most of World War II on one of three Coast Guard cutters, all of which operated just off Norfolk. The Navy subsumed the Coast Guard during the war, and the cutters were tasked with picking men from the burning wreckage of German u-boat attacks. By all accounts, Lassiter made for a terrible sailor. Eyewitnesses tell us that he was sick most of the time. Lassiter himself told a friend that he wanted to crawl off and die because of the motion sickness.

While researching Hustler Days I reviewed Lassiter's military records and put together a timeline. I've reproduced it below. You might come across a few of my typos here and there because this is pretty much how the timeline appeared in my raw, unedited notes. I find the entry for May 8, 1943 particularly instructive. The military records for that day indicate that Wimpy neither desired a job, nor had requested to attend a service school. This shouldn't come as a surprise, as Wimpy already was making himself rich in Norfolk. He was said to have amassed several hundred thousand dollars in pool winnings in the  pool halls during these years -- and remember, this was the 1940s. Under such circumstances, why would he want to attend a service school?

Lassiter would go on to win eight major 14.1 titles during the 1960s -- and that's not counting his four straight pool victories at Johnston City. He also picked up five nine ball championships in Johnston City, a Johnston City one-pocket victory, and he won the Johnston City all-around championship five times.

I've also posted this time line of his early years in my separate Wimpy Lassiter blog. You can find it here.

Total time in Service: Three years, 10 months, and 7 days.
Spent time aboard vessels: CG 83511, CG 74307, CG 74306


September 1934 - Dec. 14, 1937
Attended high school. In letter by Edgar E. Bundy, Superintendent of Schools to recruiting board, Wimpy was said to have left school for work.

1938-1940
Employed by J.C. Connery, Burgess Street, Grocer man (according to Coast Guard application), drinks intoxicating liquors on ``rare occasion,’’ never convicted of crime.

April 2, 1941
Walks into recruiting station, Norfolk, to sign up. Signs special temporary enlistment contract. Employment was shown as clerk; enlisted or three years; described as 22 years old, 5’10’’, weighing 136.5, with blue eyes, black hair, fair complexion,

April 22, 1941
Receives physical examination that reports: 20-20 vision, not color blind, hearing normal, height 70 inches, weight 136.5 pounds, chest (exhale) 34; (inhale) 31 pulse before exercise 84, after exercise 100, after three minutes 84. Tonsillectomy, 1931. Age 22 years, 6 months.

April 25, 1941
A form he fills out shows no experience in any trade.

May 1, 1941
Accepted for service in Norfolk, VA. Receives clothing bounty pay of $112.75 Immediately transferred (at 2:30 p.m. that day) to Curtis Bay, Maryland for training.

May 1, 1941
In designation of Beneficiaries for Death Gratuity, names mom, Florence L. Lassiter as beneficiary. No mention of dad. Signed by recruiting officer.

Aug. 12, 1941
Requests transfer to Elizabeth City, where Wimpy understands vacancies exist in Seaman branch.

Aug. 27, 1941
Transfer denied.

Sept. 1, 1941
Advance from rating from Seaman to Seaman second class.

Dec. 2, 1941 (1730)
Depart for temporary duty, course of instruction at the Internal Combustion Engine School, Norfolk, upon completion report to the senior Coast Guard officer, Fifth Naval District, for assignment.


Dec. 3, 1941-Feb. 14, 1942
Class assembles. Names of classmates listed in records. Special qualifications record shows:
"Norfolk training station, 2-14-42, completed operators’ course in Internal Combustion Engines, with a final mark of 76.3 or 3.1, 43rd in a class of 45 men."

Dec. 6, 1941
World War II begins.

Feb. 21, 1942
Transfer to CG-140 (There is some uncertainty on this entry).

Nov. 17, 1942
Also shows him aboard CG 73406.

March 21, 1942-Nov. 20, 1944
Transfer to CG 74306.

June 8, 1942
Raises in rank to Ffc (something first class -- uncertainty on this entry).

March 15, 1942
Landing party boat training, New River, N.C..

Nov. 17, 1942
Promoted to machinist mate second class.

May 31, 1943
Becomes machinist mate first class.

July 31 1943
Trains on Camp Glen Rifle Range, receives expert rifleman’s medal on 14 Aug. 1943.

April 30, 1944
Enlistment involuntarily extended for the duration of war, plus six months.
Vessel Designation: CG 74307, at CG base: 05-013.

May 1, 1944
Enlistment involuntarily extended for duration of war, plus six months.


May 8, 1943
Coast Guard Enlisted Qualification Card Shows: 7 years grammar school, ending in 1931; three years High School, ending in 1934 (which means six years of playing pool before the service), And Grades of 80 in social studies, 66 in Arithmetic, and 79 in Mechanical aptitude. Shows no service schools qualified for, and no service schools desired. Weight then: 158 pounds. Main occupation: no jobs.
Says: "No jobs, no service schools desired."


Nov. 7, 1944 (1145) -Nov. 24, 1944
Received inpatient treatment for Pyelonephritis. Vessel designation CG-74306.

Nov. 20, 1944-Nov. 29, 44
Aboard CG 74306.

Nov. 29, 1944 through Sept. 12, 1945
Stationed aboard CG 74307.

Sept. 12, 1945
On leave, from vessel CG 74307.

Sept 16, 1945
Transferred to CG 83511 for duty, CG Patrol Base, Municipal Pier, Norfolk, VA; apparently from CG 74307.

Oct. 1, 1945
Letter from J.I. Crews states: "Lassiter ... has completed a continuous period of three years’ active service on 4 April, 1944, with no mark in conduct of less than 4.0. Accordingly, appropriate entry has been made of the service record and above named man has been authorized to wear appropriate (ribbon) in lieu of issue of actual award at this time."

Oct. 10, 1945
1300 hours, letter addressed to Wimpy in Norfolk, Virginia says, "Proceed to: Portsmouth, Virginia, CO.CG Personnel Separation Center, No. 5, Crawford Street. Discharge from the Coast Guard on Draft No. Nornor-56."


October 11, 1945
Discharge papers show that he weighs 161 pounds. Apparently gained 25 pounds in the service (up from 136.5 pounds).

October 12, 1945
Discharged in service


-- R.A. Dyer

Pool Synergy 10: Don "Cincinnati Kid" Willis

The two out-of-towners are relatively short men, in their thirties, the unfortunate age when the paunch begins to show. Neither carries a pool cue. They've appeared unannounced and unexpected in a back-water pool room, which they immediately size up.  Who in here has some gamble to them?  They get a table. They rack for nine-ball. They start shooting.

"Remember how I beat that boy down in Nixonton," says one, a bit over loudly.  He makes his shot, but it wobbles in. "Kid never had a chance." He blasts in another ball, but the shape is awful. "Look at that," he says, admiring his own game. "Ever seen anything like it?" He keeps shooting, keeps boasting. He makes some balls and he misses some. He plays passable pool. Not great pool, but passable pool.  And yet he keeps on. The boasts keep getting bigger. Louder. Remember this? Remember that?

And then here it comes. Here it comes. He looks over to the local boy at the next table.  Hell, I bet I can even beat this guy right here, he says. Hey buddy you wanna play?

Maybe the local says yes and maybe he says no. Maybe he has these strangers pegged as hustlers, or maybe he has them pegged as hapless and helpless braggarts.  It doesn't really matter. This is how it starts: A few games a passable pool, a few boasts, some loud taunts. And then the trap is sprung. In less time than one might expect the challenge is met. Some hot shot local will approach the strangers or someone will call in a ringer from the pay phone. Hurry down. Bring your stick. When the hustle works just right, when the know-nothings are loud enough and the locals are sufficiently irritated, whoever steps up will have some gamble to him.

And then it's all over.

This is the Big Hurrah hustle, performed regularly over several years by Wimpy Lassiter and his road partner Don Willis. That's a picture of Willis at the upper left and Lassiter at the right. The task we've been assigned for this month's Pool Synergy edition is to write about a pool player's support network.  As this blog is devoted to pool history I've decided to devote my essay to Don Willis, Lassiter's long-time wing man.

Lassiter, of course, is a man that all serious pool players should already have heard of. He dominated the Johnston City tournaments during the 1960s and is still considered by many as the greatest nine-ball player of all time. Lassiter also won and lost a fortune in Norfolk during his World War II Coast Guard days.

Willis, however, is much less known. He eschewed tournaments, and not until his later years would he even consent to be photographed for publication. I describe him here for the sake of thematic convenience as Lassiter's wing man, but that really is to sell Willis very much short. He regular beat the great nine-ball player and took occasional scalps from other giants, including, supposedly, both Ralph Greenleaf and Willie Mosconi.  Willis was an intimidating player. As Lassiter once said: "If I ever had to have someone else shoot pool for my life, win or lose, live or die ...  the man that I’d have shooting for me is Don Willis." Now that's a support network.

The so-called Cincinatti Kid was born on May 1, 1909. Like Lassiter, he began playing seriously during the Great Depression, as a teenager. His long partnership with Lassiter began shortly after venturing into Lassiter's hometown of Elizabeth City, North Carolina, during a road trip. Willis challenged Lassiter to a game of nine ball, on Lassiter's home turf, and then had the temerity to beat him. Lassiter was so startled by this outcome that he immediately befriended the Ohio-native. They then spent the next decade and a half together.

"I think my best friend is Wimpy Lassiter," Willis told author Thomas Fensch, for his 1970 book The Lions and the Lambs. "What a team we were. We were together for 15 years. In 1959, he came to Canton and stayed a year. We practiced together and played together. We never had our own cues when we were out on the road. It used to be when you came into a new house with a cue under your arm, everyone’d say, ‘who’s this guy with the cue?’

"We just out-shot everyone. We never lost either -- never left town broke. Sure we were down low at times, but there was always someone else to play."

Willis was a master of all sorts of proposition bets, such as running backwards, making basketball free throws, and making wing shots.  Twice during his life he made 42 in a row. "They called me Wing-Shot Willie," he once said.  He was also a card player (which came in handy plenty on the road), could juggle three pool balls and the chalk, and play an excellent game of ping-pong and horseshoes. "I’ve even also won bets on the proposition that I can't name in order the 130 largest cities of the U.S. There are 130 cities over 100,000 population. It’s easy."

But Willis never was a tournament player. He said he'd rather play a nobody for $7 than a world champion for nothing. That's where Willis found the fun of pool -- in the gambling. "I never practiced just for the sake of practicing. I always wanted to play -- to play someone," he said. In the pantheon of pure action players, few were better.   Playing the Big Hoorah hustle, he could beat anybody. Anybody who stepped up.  And then after he had wrung the last dime from one sucker, Lassiter would step up and beat another. The pigeons didn't stand a chance.

"Lassiter was the one who said I had the heart of a lion and I think that’s the best thing anyone has said about me," Willis told auther Fensch.

Willis died on March 2, 1984, at the age of 74. He and his wife Mary were parents to six children and had 13 grandchildren.

You can read more about Don Willis in the excellent retrospective at the Greater Canton Amateur Billiard Association website, which you can find here.  (The picture of Don Willis at the top left was retrieved from that website, although it was originally published in the Army Weekly, on Oct. 27, 1944.) Author John Grissom also penned a fine essay about Don Willis in his book Billiards. I found that essay reprinted here. I also have a section about Don Willis in Hustler Days, and Robert Byrne describes Willis in his 1996 book, The Wonderful World of Pool & Billiards.

As for Lassiter, he's also referenced extensively in Hustler Days. The picture of Lassiter, at the upper right, is from that book but was originally published in Billiards Digest.

-- R.A. Dyer

Daddy Warbucks and Johnston City

Gary Carlson, a former graduate student from Southern Illinois who wrote recently about a chance encounter he had with Minnesota Fats, also sent in a note about stumbling into a poolroom owned by George and Paulie Jansco. This was sometime back in the late 1960s. The Janscos were the creators of the famous Johnston City tournaments, which I write about in Hustler Days. Carlson appears to have stumbled into a game with Hubert "Daddy Warbucks" Cokes, although his memory is a bit fuzzy on the point. Carlson says the players appeared to be off their game and ended up spending a good part of the evening arguing about the spot. That's a picture of Daddy Warbucks, below, although he's standing there next to another young fan (not Carlson). Right above this post I've included a picture of the Johnston City sign. Cokes was known for his fondness of one-pocket and firearms.


Here's Mr. Carlson's note:

Prior to the experience with Fats, maybe it was 1965 or 1966, I lived in Decatur, Illinois and was finishing up my bachelor degree in Chemistry at Millikin University. A buddy of mine who I played pool with said we should go down to southern Illinois to watch a major pool tournament. So, we piled into his ’58 Chevy Impala and away we went. I have no idea how he learned of the tournament, but the drive took longer than I had anticipated.

I didn’t know what was going on — I knew nobody and certainly didn’t see nor hear anybody named "Minnesota Fats." The place was wall to wall packed. Difficult to see the action and it seemed somewhat disorganized. After watching endless 9-ball, we learned that the more interesting stuff was going on “out back.”I can’t recall (after all, this was about 45 years ago) if it was in a part of the same room walled off or a small building separate from the main room. I think we paid $5 for entry. It was north of the main building (which was like ‘50’s deco), the latter which sat on the northwest quarter of the intersection. In any case, we were there only maybe a couple hours and the only memory I have was in this back room. Frankly, I wasn’t very impressed with the caliber of play – but what did I know? I thought I saw people just as good back in Decatur. I used to watch Don Tozer play there. Anyway, I recall or heard of or saw “Jersey Red,”Eddie “Knoxville” Taylor, and “Big Daddy Warbucks” who I much later learned was Hubert Cokes. The match I recall was between Big Daddy and somebody else – I can’t recall who – seems like Taylor, but I’m not totally sure if Taylor or Red were even there that year and I just heard their names – but it was certainly Big Daddy. I also remember a LONG conversation about what the handicap would be. The game was going to be 8-ball and a race to something for $100 (good money back then). Now, instead of their bridge hand, Warbucks was to use his hat for a bridge and the other guy went into the toilet and returned with a big toilet brush. As I said, the play was unremarkable. I expected long runs, “magic” shots, etc. I was young.

Now I regret that during 1966-1969 when I was in Carbondale, I never bothered to even go back there to watch again – even though it was just east a few miles. Curiously, I did play in a band and we actually played a couple of gigs there at that location. I’ve forgotten the name of the place. It might have been “Janscos."

-- R.A. Dyer

Memories of Minnesota Fats

 
Minnesota Fats was a fixture in southern Illinois during the 1960s, which was the heyday of the Johnston City tournaments and the pool revival I described in Hustler Days. The famous tournaments were created by George and Paulie Jansco, who are both members of the One Pocket Hall of Fame. I got to thinking about George and Paulie and Fats after receiving a letter the other day from Gary Carlson, a former graduate student from Southern Illinois. In it, Gary describes a chance encounter he had with Minnesota Fats. It was a small encounter, and yet the sort that appears to have taken on added meaning for Gary as he has learned more about Fats. That's because it quietly reflects some of the great qualities of Fats: he loved playing pool, he loved being around people and -- despite his hustler reputation -- there was a certain kindness about him.

Here's Gary's note:

From 1966 to 1969, I was a graduate chemistry student at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, Illinois. I used to research my project from time to time during the wee hours and then go to a small hamburger place on the north side of Carbondale where they had 2 or 3 pool tables. I was usually the only one there and after a hamburger, I’d shoot some pool. I was only a fair player. One night (late 1968 – mid 1969), there was a guy sitting at the counter talking to the owner – I paid little attention to them. I had my hamburger, got a cue off the wall and began practicing.

Before long, the guy at the counter strolled over, watched a bit, and asked if I wanted to play a couple of racks. I said OK and asked if he wanted to bet a dollar a game. He laughed and said “A whole dollar”? I didn’t know if he was mocking me or couldn’t afford a dollar so I said “OK, how about 50 cents then”? He smiled and just said “Let’s play a bit for nothing and we’ll see what happens.” Well, he beat me several games with no trouble, shook my hand and left. The counter man said “Do you know who that was”? I told him I didn’t – and he told me it was Rudolph Wanderone – Minnesota Fats. I just said “Oh”. I had no idea who he was. Later, I saw a picture of him somewhere and realized who he was. Later still, I learned he was living not too far from Carbondale.

You asked for some remembrances of the man. That was mine. Recently I’ve read about him and from everything I understand, he was a pretty nice fellow.

Thanks to Gary. And, like he notes: I'm always looking for memories of the great ones. If you have one, send it in. If you'd like to learn more about Johnston City (or see another Johnston City video), check out my separate blog on the topic, which you can find here.


-- R.A. Dyer

Johnston City -- 1962?

Spring cleaning continues. This is a picture sent to me by Charles Howard, the son of Norman "Jockey" Howard. It shows the players at the famous Johnston City tournaments. Charles sent me this photo in 2006. I had it posted up elsewhere, and now I'm posting it up here. That's Jockey Howard on the far right. Although the photo is labeled "1961, first tournament held in Johnston City", I don't believe that can be right. Although Paulie and George Jansco are clearly there seated in the middle, there's also Luther Lassiter and Cisero Murphy in attendance. They were not at the first Johnston City meet. Charles said his dad went to Johnston City in '62 and '63.


Here's another photo from Charles Howard. This one shows his dad, "Jockey" Howard, with the great Willie Mosconi. This picture was definitely not taken at Johnston City. I know this because I know that Mosconi never set foot into the hustler's den that were the Johnston City tournaments. By contrast, Charles said his dad was a full-time pool hustler. "He never entered tournaments that generated national attention," said Charles, "(But) he was best man at Cornbread Red's wedding and has played with some of the greats such as Mosconi and Fats."

-- R.A. Dyer

Minnesota Fats: "A whole buck?"

Minnesota Fats with John Ogolini

I've reproduced here a charming letter I received a few years back from one Gary Carlson. Gary recalls unexpectedly bumping into the Fat One down in Johnston City. The picture above shows Fats with whom I believe is his friend John Ogolini. The picture was probably taken in Fats' home. I was given this photo during one of my trips to Southern Illinois to research Fats' life for Hustler Days.

OK, here's Gary's note:

"I was about 22 or 23 at the time (1964? 1965?) living in Decatur, IL. My friend, Bob Arthur mentioned there was a pool tournament in a town outside of Carbondale. So we got into his '58 Chevy Impala and away we went. I think we paid maybe $5 (???) to get in and then there was another charge to watch the action in the back room. I recall "Daddy Warbucks" playing someone else a handicap game. Warbucks used his hat as a bridge while the other fellow used a toilet brush from the restroom. They played $100 a game.

In 1966 I attended graduate school at Southern Illinois University and went to Johnston City once or twice for the tournament. I also played in a rock band which was hired for one weekend at the Jansco's place.

My major was chemistry and I would work sometimes until 1-2 am in the lab. Afterwards, I would frequently go to a small pool hall with 3 or 4 tables and good hamburgers. I was usually the only one there. I didn't really know much about the game or it's characters. One night a fat guy at the counter asked if I wanted to play a game since we were the only customers. He'd been laughing with the counter man and already knew I was very much an amateur. I said OK and he asked if I played for money. I said I guessed a buck would be OK. He said 'a whole buck?' I said 'If that's too much, how about 50 cents?' He laughed and said he'd try to fit it into his budget. He beat me pretty badly for 2 games and I quit a buck down. He bought me a hamburger and left. Later, the counter man told me it was Minnesota Fats and he lived nearby in Dowell, Illinois. It wasn't until some years later that I appreciated who he was."

-- R.A. Dyer

Minnesota Fats: The Quiet Thrashing

This is the first of a series of posts written in coordination with other online pool writers. It's part of the Pool Synergy project at www.poolstudent.com. Our first topic relates to pool strategy. Look for more installments in the future.

Strategic thinking is often associated with men and women of great dignity. Think Kasparov wordlessly sacrificing a rook for checkmate in three moves, or Napoleon – without panic – wedging his army between two opposing forces in order to defeat both. Pool also has had its share dignified strategic thinkers -- players like the unflappable Allison Fisher, for instance, who was named in 2005 as one of the world’s 50 smartest people. Or there’s the great Efren Reyes, the reserved one-pocket genius.

But what about the loud-mouthed and the brash? Pool has plenty of those sorts too. And believe it or not some of the greatest strategic moves in pool – especially with regards to getting action — have been executed not by men of quiet deliberation, but by those oafish players who so commonly dot our history.

Take for instance Minnesota Fats, one of pool’s great gasbags, a man who never made it through high school and may even have been illiterate. (You can get a sense of Fats' ridiculous schtick in the video at the top of this post.) At least outwardly Fats exhibited none of the reserved grace typically associated with great minds. However, one of my favorite examples of strategic thinking is attributed to Fats.

Here’s the story. Back in 1970 Minnesota Fats was in Johnston City, Illinois making games with Richie Florence, a young player then considered one of America’s best. Florence was flush with cash from a recent score in Alabama. He would have been about 25 years old. Fats was pushing 60.

Witnesses recall that the two players started cheap, maybe $100 or $200 a game, with Richie giving Fats weight. They said Richie was probably beating Fats to begin with, but not by much. That's because every time Richie got hot, Fats would interrupt his shooting by insisting on a bathroom break or by getting a sandwich. Fats also whined incessantly about the spot, about the playing conditions, and about the knucklehead railbirds. Anything to interrupt Richie's concentration.

After a few hours of playing like that, Fats quit, declaring he’d had enough. But he also promised to come back the following night. This, then, was where the real hustle would begin. Because instead of showing up at the appointed hour, Fats called in the next night with some bullshit excuse. He wouldn't be making it in, said Fats -- but maybe he'd come by the following night.

Now, Fats would have known when he placed that call that Richie, then in the spring of his youth, would not simply go back to his motel room to sleep. The wise and sage Fats knew with something close to 100 percent certainty that Richie would instead continue partying, possibly for the entire night.

The next night Fats left Richie waiting again. It was only after a delay of some hours, only after letting Richie drink and gamble unchecked for a while longer, it was only then that Fats showed up again to demand a game. And even then Fats kept interrupting Richie's shotmaking with his multitude of bathroom breaks and phone calls and white bread sandwiches.

Witnesses said this went on for two weeks, with Fats coming in at unpredictable intervals, fresh as a baby. The older player may have even been calling his poolroom spies to discreetly get a handle on Richie's shape. If Richie was playing too strong, Fats would wait a bit longer. When Fats came in it was a simple matter to taunt the less experienced player back into the trap.

Every night Fats won several hundred dollars, but generally no more than a $1,000 or so. For high rollers, it didn't seem like much. But by the end of it, Fats had extracted $20,000 from Richie Florence. “Fats played him like a child, that’s what happened,” recalled Ed Kelly, an eyewitness to the quiet thrashing. “He got Richie doing what he wanted Fats to do, see? Fats was a champion of it.”

An interview with Karen Fox, widow of Minnesota Fats biographer Tom Fox

Karen Fox, widow of Tom Fox, attended the first Johnston City tournaments with her writer-husband in 1961. Both Karen and Tom worked at the Evansville Courier and Press, a newspaper published from the hometown of backroom legend Hubert "Daddy Warbucks" Cokes. Tom Fox would later help Minnesota Fats pen the "The Bankshot and Other Great Robberies," which was republished by Lyons Press in 2006.

What follows is a partial transcript of various interviews with Karen Fox, the first conducted in August of 2000.

"Tom was a sports writer at the time, and he was a very good newsman, as well as being a good sports writer. Somebody called at the sports desk at the Evansville Sunday Courier and Press, and told him that this great Evansville Indiana pool player, Hubert Cokes, an oilman, was going to be participating in the tournament. They said that Tom, with his love for characters, should go to Johnston city, and watch Cokes play.

And this guy, on the phone, said that Cokes was a heavy money-player.

He and I had just started dating, and we had just seen The Hustler a couple of weeks before he got that call. He could not believe that out in the middle of nowhere, in Southern Illinois, were all these incredible pool players. They had this really good tournament room, with good acoustics, and bleachers, in the back. There was a concrete block room where, after the tournament was over, there were heavy-duty gambling. And Tom knew it was a national story.

We got to see it first hand. You know, television has a way of sterilizing stuff like that. ... But what we saw was pure, and raw, and real. There was a moment in time, a freeze frame, that we had that privilege to see. Those guys were incredible characters.

Oh my god, it was awesome. When tom started going over there, he took a bunch of us the 90 miles from Evansville. It was a drive. I worked at the paper too. We had just met. And he e took a whole load of us over there. He had a station wagon. It was so far, that (eventually ) everybody else stopped going, but I loved it."

Lassiter & Shorty in Johnston City

Here's another great video of Wimpy Lassiter and Boston Shorty playing one-pocket in Johnston City, Illinois. It's from ABC's Wide World of Sports. Lassiter won everything there was to win at Johnston City. You can read more about the famous tournaments an the newly renamed Johnston City Hustler Tournament blog. (It was formerly the George Jansco blog. Same content. Just more stuff.) That's a picture of Shorty, on the left, with fan Ross Parker Simons in 1965. You can read more about Shorty at Onepocket.org, which has inducted him into its Hall of Fame. Shorty also won big in Johnston City.

Great Story about the Knoxville Bear

Chris Wohlwend, writing for Like the Dew: A Journal of Southern Culture and Politics, has penned a great story about Eddie Taylor, the famous Knoxville Bear. Remembered as one of the greatest bank pool players ever, Taylor is a member of both the One Pocket Hall of Fame (2004 inductee) and the BCA Hall of Fame (1993 inductee). He was also the winner of the all-around title in Johnston City in 1964 and the Stardust Open in 1967.

Wohlwend draws upon some old conversations with Taylor for his story. For instance,the story quotes Taylor describing some of his technique for road hustling:

“A guy in Lexington, Kentucky, showed me how to lose games on purpose. How to talk a big game until the money got big, then start really playing. I’d go on about how good I was, how I’d played Ralph Greenfield the week before and they’d all be laughing at me. They knew I meant Ralph Greenleaf, and thought I was too stupid to know his real name. I’d lose and then I’d say, ‘Well, I can’t really play unless we’re playing for big money.’"

Pool & Billiards Magazine editor Thomas Shaw has noted in a separate article that Taylor was born in the mountains of Anderson County, about twenty miles from Knoxville, on October 1, 1918.

"When I was about eight years old my Daddy bought me a little toy table," Taylor told Shaw. "Later on we lived near the amusement park where the fella who owned the batting cage bought a 2 1/2 x 5 foot table and I got to playing on that. Then we moved downtown near the YMCA and I played on the table there. It just seemed that everything came natural. This boy and I used to go across the street from the school and the guy would let us play one game of rotation for a nickel. Then I started laying out from school and playing. My mother finally caught me and threatened to blow up the poolroom but I just found another place until she caught me again."

Taylor died of cancer on Sept. 5, 2005, at his home in Bossier City, outside Shreveport, Louisiana. Want to read more? Billiards Digest ran an interview with the Bear back in 2005. Onepocket.org also ran a long interview in 2004.