GEAR: What’s in your case and why?

PoolSynergy's theme this month calls for their esteemed network of pool bloggers to examine their cue cases and explain, if they can, the odds and ends they carry around in them. The topic struck me as one that wouldn’t strain my limited mental resources, so I decided to contribute to the discussion. You can find the complete list of contributors at The Tip Jar, the site of this month's host Samm Diep.

Before I get to what’s in the pockets and pouches of my 3/7 Instroke cue case, let me say a quick word about pool cues in general – they ain’t magic wands. Frankly speaking, I played the best pool of my life, back in the 60’s (that’s 1960’s, not the 1860’s), with a spruced up one-piece house cue. Of course, I never played badly back then, but, if I had, I never would have thought of using the cue as an excuse. I mean, it was straight and it had a tip on it – what more could a guy want?

Back then, strangers carrying their own cues would occasionally invade our suburban New Jersey pool room, but we were not terribly impressed by their lacquered finishes or their fancy inlays – I guess we didn’t get it. Fact is we viewed these intruders with more than a little suspicion. Figuratively speaking, we were all dressed up in jeans and in came these guys decked out with more ruffles than Little Lord Fauntleroy. Know what I mean?

Anyway, fast forward to when, after a 38 year layoff, I started playing again back in 2000. I soon discovered there wasn’t one decent stick in the game room of the old fogies’ trailer park where I reside. So, I went shopping. Finding Kmart was out of their quality implements, I boogied down to Sports Authority where I found a stick for twenty bucks. It wasn’t all that but it was plenty good enough for a guy who could barely hit a rail. By the time I realized it was a piece of crap, I had been carrying it to the local pool room for over a year with no pangs of conscience whatsoever. When I did decide to upgrade, I went online and bought myself a $55 Players cue stick. I still have it, somewhere. I used that for a few years and, then, graduated to a $200 Falcon sneaky-pete. I liked that stick well enough, but, for no good reason, a year later I decided to get myself a custom made Josey sneaky which I’m still using. With it, I carry two other sticks: an ASKA break-jump cue I found on ebay and a 1990's vintage Meucci. I hardly ever use the Meucci; I just carry it around.

All that said, I’m still a firm believer that if a person can play, he or she should be able to make do with any kind of stick, including a broomstick. But just like golfers who invest in $5,000 clubs and still can’t break a hundred, there are a zillion poolplayers out there with $2,000 cues who can’t hit a rail. To each his own. Moving on…

There’s chalk in my case, plus a magnetic chalk holder. Chalk generally isn’t an issue at area pool rooms, but our local bars usually opt for that cheap gooey stuff they sell in Wal-Mart. If you want to use Master Chalk, you better bring your own. The danger, then, is that someone will hijack your chalk and claim it as their own. I had returned to my place at the bar after winning a match in our local bar tournament one night, when a guy came charging over and asked, “Did you take the Master Chalk that was on the back table?” I reached in my shirt pocket, flashed the chalk at him showing him the name sticker I had placed on the bottom of the cube and stated simply, “It’s mine.” Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Because I’m a bit of a germaphobe and don’t like sharing chalk with people who are sniffling and sneezing and otherwise snot-filled, I occasionally pull out my magnetic clip-on chalk holder. Of course, this is mostly a symbolic gesture since the infected one’s germs are crawling all over the balls, the rack, the rails and the cloth. That reminds me – it’s time for my flu shot.

I like a slick shaft and I carry several items that contribute to that end. I have talc in a plastic bottle and talc in a Slyde-Rite bag. I’ve got one of those blue scouring pads. I’ve got the Smooth Micro-Burnishing system plastic squares. I’ve got a few pieces of 2000 grit sandpaper, plus a leather pad and a couple small pieces of cloth for wiping down a dirty cue. I’m usually too lazy to dig one of these rags out of my case and opt instead to use my handkerchief. I know there are those who are of the opinion that you should never sand your shaft. I suspect they are afraid that repeated sandings can transform a shaft into a crooked, pencil thin wand. Good luck with that. Me, I’m a sander and a scourer. If, somewhere along the line, my shaft becomes too thin or crooked, I’ll get a new shaft or, more likely, a new cue.

I also have a steel version of the cue tip sander we’re all familiar with. More like a file, it works great, never needs new sandpaper, and, if necessary, could probably double as a parmesan cheese grater. The Porper Cut-Rite tool comes in handy to shave the sides off mushrooming tips.

Thinking about it, I could probably get by with just the talc. Plus, a little sandpaper. And, maybe, the file and those Micro-Burnishing squares. The Porper tool comes in handy, too. Hell, I might as well keep it all – that’s what those compartments are for.

Pool Room Etiquette: Shut the F#&K Up, Please

It ain’t tennis, or golf, or a chess match, but it isn’t a gin mill either – it’s a pool room and, as such, there are times when excessively working your mouth is inappropriate. Like when a big money game is going on. Back when I was a kid and literally hung out in the pool room, you could tell the moment you walked through the door that a money game was in progress. Except for the random clicking of balls, the place was immersed in thick, tense silence. Onlookers, staking out all the reasonable vantage points from which they could view the action, watched, hardly breathing. There were no signs on the walls, no announcements had been made, it was the natural way to behave.

Of course, the big money game was an exception rather than the rule. Most often players were involved in what nowadays are called “cheap sets.” Still, even for those games, there were accepted rules of decorum. For one thing, you would never charge up to the table and start shooting the shit with one of the players. Most often, you would approach someone on the periphery and ask if they were playing for something. “Playing for something” was how we referred to gambling. If guys were gambling, that meant they weren’t just screwing around – they were serious. If, for some reason, you did say something to someone who was gambling, as soon as he said “We’re playing for something” you knew enough to make yourself scarce. Like I said, none of this was written down, it was just the way things were, common sense.

Florida pool rooms are over-populated by old-timers who claim that they grew up in pool rooms and, of course, that they once could play much better than they do now. Unfortunately, ninety-nine per cent of the time, this is bullshit. These are people too uncoordinated to play golf, who may have occasionally played pool at their local watering hole or at the Moose Club, who have taken up pool again so they have excuses to get out of their houses and away from their wives. The problem is they don’t know how to act.

I was playing a guy, let’s call him Lenny, some cheap sets up at Capone’s the other day when an acquaintance of his comes sashaying up to the table with a drink in hand, plops his ass down on a stool next to him, and starts up a conversation. I, at the table, just froze. Lenny saw my reaction and told his friend that I didn’t want him hanging around while I was playing and, after rephrasing that a couple times, the guy finally took the hint. I really didn’t like the idea of Lenny making me the heavy. The way I see it, all he had to say to the guy is “We’re playing for something,” then the guy should’ve known enough to get lost. Instead, he made it appear I was unreasonable and that if it was up to him the guy could have stayed around for a good oldfashioned gabfest. WTF.

Lenny’s another guy who claims he once hung out in a pool room, in Brooklyn no less. I have a hard time believing that folks in Brooklyn would put up with that kind of shit while they were playing, but what do I know, I was 40 miles west in suburban New Jersey.

Speaking of Lenny, a couple months ago we were playing when, jacked up between a cluster of balls at the foot of the table, I tried to make an extremely thin cut. Well, I missed the shot and almost missed the object ball completely. In fact, it barely moved, then settled back where it had been. I told Lenny the ball moved and I guess he didn’t believe me because just last week we’re talking and he brings up something he refers to as “The Phantom Hit.”

Now, you might think he could have taken my word that the ball had moved and been done with it. After all, I was right there with my eyes glued to the balls while he was at the far end of the table engaged in smoking, farting and belching as he normally is. Beside that, during the time we’ve been playing each other, I’ve frequently called fouls on myself that he wouldn’t otherwise have known about. Just a couple weeks ago we were hill-hill and I called a foul on myself for a double hit on the cue ball. He had no idea I had fouled, but I did, so I called it. I doubt seriously that he would ever stop for a foul I had not noticed. At least, he never has. Just saying.

Anyway, you think he could give me the benefit of a doubt and take my word for it that the hit was good? No, two months later he brings up the “phantom hit.” And I wouldn’t doubt that he’s been telling his fellow nits the sad tale every chance he gets. Needless to say, he and I won’t be playing any more. I hate whiners. Maybe he can hook up with his nitwit buddy and they can shoot the shit till the cows come home.

First DJ’s Memorial 9-Ball Tournament A Success

Top players from around Pasco County converged at DJ’s Family Billiards last night, 8-12-2010, for the first annual Memorial 9-Ball Tournament. The night was dedicated to the memory of several special people, among them Tommy Moses, Albert Osanna, Bob May, New York Jimmy, Tommy Hill, special, not only to gathered friends and family, but to all in attendance because they shared an affection for the game of pocket billiards.

Three weeks before he got hit with his final illness, Bob May called me bright and early one Thursday to let me know he’d had a good night down at Stroker’s (Palm Harbor) the night before. Not only had he finished in the money, but on the way he had defeated local notables Dave Williams and Donny Mills. He was on top of the world.

Well, Bobby, I had a pretty good night last night at your memorial tournament. Not only did I finish in the money, but, like you, I managed to beat a few people I had no business beating. Unfortunately, my success had more to do with a streak of luck than great playing, but, what the hell, we have to take what we get.

Among those showing up for the tournament were Mike Davis, Billy Moses, Fast Eddie, Mark W., and Bobby Livrago. I, of course, slipped out as soon as I was eliminated, so I can’t report who won. I can tell you Mike Davis and Jared were still in it when I left.

The tournament was co-sponsored by my website AcesWebWorld.com.

The Me In Team

I don’t usually spend a lot of time thinking about the individual point standings of our local bar leagues. First of all, I never bring my reading glasses on league night so I can’t read the sheets. Plus, I’m not that conscientious about reporting to the scorekeeper every five or six ball run I make – if I miss a shot or fail to run out, everything that’s happened before often gets wiped from my mind.

None the less, because one of my teammates kept reminding me that he was hot on my heals – he trailed me by a scant six points with six weeks left – I knew I was leading the pack on Monday nights and wasn’t at all surprised when I finished in the number one spot.

Wednesday nights was a different story. Based on my own observations, I hadn’t played very well the last session – I hadn’t won enough games or made enough runs. So, when the captain of my team called explaining that the player who had been in the lead had had a bad final week scoring just six points and that both he and I had leapt past him in the standings, thereby finishing one two, I had a hard time believing it. But, it turned out to be true as the first place trophy on my shelf attests.

And to cap things off, my partner and I came in first in the blind-draw scotch doubles tournament that followed the trophy presentation at the league’s party.

This is small stuff, I realize, but being number one in both leagues is a kick, especially, at this stage of the game.

Here are some pics from the Wednesday night party at my team’s home bar, the Hayloft:

The Team - Ace, Rick, Boogie

Same Guys With Eye Candi

Sandi presents me with SharpShooter Trophy

Blood, Lust, Sex, Bullets, Money

My latest pool story has none of that. Check out Once A Weasel by Ace Toscano.

As in most of my fiction, the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

2010 Monday Night Sharpshooters Awards Party

Our team, wearing the Hayloft colors, consisting of Boogie, Billy Cook, Craig and yours truly were declared league champions for the winter session. And, once again, I was awarded a trophy as the league’s individual male points leader. Here’s my acceptance speech for the male points leader award:

 Left: Individual Points Leader; Right: 1st Place Team

“Thanks, everybody, I appreciate the applause. This trophy means a lot to me, not only because it was hard-fought, but because, realistically, with Billy Cook back from Ohio, it could very well be my last. But, hey, there’s nothing wrong with second place, is there Billy? (more applause) Anyway, seeing as I only won by seven points overall, I guess I can thank that 31 point night I had early on for clinching first place for me.

But, as proud as I am of coming in first in the individual points race, I’m prouder yet of the way I played – I never tried to shark anybody by jumping off my stool when they were trying to shoot; I always made an honest effort; and I always played by the rules. Though I can’t say that about all of you who have made it here tonight, (laughter) I can say it about a lot of you. And I just wanted you all to know that, regardless of how many games you won, or what place you came in, if you played by the rules and were a good sport, you have my respect and my friendship. Thanks for making this league fun for all of us. (applause) As for the rest of you - the cheaters, crybabies, sharks, and whiners - maybe you can find another league somewhere. (more laughter) Peace, love and peyote.”

Barrelz Ekes Out Victory in Challenge Cup Match

 Jeremy, Bobby, Jonny, T.J.

Now, let me preface my comments about the first-ever Hayloft-Barrelz Challenge Cup Match by saying my observations on said match may not be entirely accurate as I was heavily medicated at the time which also accounts for the fact that I couldn’t make a shot.

Unfortunately, I did not have a corner on problems interfering with performance at the table. Boogie, our number three player, was playing on short notice and hadn’t had time to put himself in the proper frame of mind. Billy “The Kid” Cook, our anchor, had been to a Rays game the night before sitting in seats so far removed from the field of play that he had developed eye-strain. Jimmy, a last minute addition to the squad who nearly made the eight on the break in two games, was victimized by bad roll after bad roll. As for me, I was heavily medicated as I may have mentioned before.

In the lead-off position, I missed what should’ve been easy position and managed to give the first game away. I think I followed suit with my second game, though, like I said, much of the happenings were obscured by a medicinal fog.

Heading into the match, I figured, if Billy and Boog won four games each, then I would only have to win one to cinch the match. That being said, I held up my end while my two amigos fell short. Jimmy was just there to fill out the roster so he shouldn’t be held accountable in any way for the massacre.

Barrelz, on the other hand, was living the charmed life – they didn’t get a single bad roll, nor did they have any medical emergencies. That’s the way it goes some times.

The Barrelz four - Bobby, T.J., Jeremy and Jonny – have sworn to give us a chance to get even though it seems, now, the Port Hole team has injected itself into the mix. We’re looking forward to a renewal of the competition, though we would hope they set things up for a day more hospitable to our side.

BTW, if you’re ever in the area, stop by Barrelz (8115 Us Highway 19, Port Richey, FL) for some pool, beer and pizza. You’ll be glad you did.

The Jackhammer Break Cue - A Tale of Gullibility

I just received the new jump/break cue I found on ebay, an Aska Jump Break AR Professional, which reminds me of the last jump/break cue I bought via that vast shopping mall, The Jackhammer.

The Jackass's Jackhammer

What’s with the name, anyway? Obviously the name Jackhammer was supposed to bring to mind another popular break cue, The Sledgehammer, which sells for around $300. The Jackhammer sold for considerably less. Yet, while both names conjure up powerfully destructive images, the power is delivered primarily vertically, not along a lateral path as a cue might traverse. Perhaps, Battering Ram would be a more apt moniker.

Anyway, I was taken in by the whole Jackhammer thing and soon paid the price for my gullibility – my Jackhammer turned out not to be worth jack shit. The “special” phenolic tip/ferrule chipped and cracked in half in short order. I had already given the seller positive feedback on the basis of the cue’s appearance, so I figured I was stuck. I got what I deserve – I was a Jackhammer jackass.

Aska Jump/Break Cue

So, somewhat inexplicably, when I again needed a jump/break cue, rather than going to my own break cue page, I again took a trip to ebayland. The Aska Jump/Break Cue sells for $109. It has a nice look, a solid feel, and, what’s more, it comes from Canada. I’m hoping our Canadian brethren have more scruples than those sellers dumping the Jackhammers on an unsuspecting public. I'll let you know how it holds up.

Top Ten Pool/Billiards Instructional Books

I learned to play pool back in the 1960's primarily by studying Mosconi's little red book, Mosconi On Pocket Billiards. Lucky for me, old Teasdale picked up a few copies during his travels and made them available to his customers. Unfortunately, it was the only book I came across during my developing years. Nowadays, there are scores of books professing to teach readers the art of shooting pool. Following are the ten most popular pool/billiards instructional books. Point your cursor at the book's title for ratings, plus new and used prices.

1. The 99 Critical Shots in Pool: Everything You Need to Know to Learn and Master the Game ~ Raymond Martin

2. Byrne's New Standard Book of Pool and Billiards ~ Robert Byrne

3. Precision Pool: Your Guide to Mastering Key Skills, Shots & Strategies ~ Gerry Kanov

4. Byrne's Complete Book of Pool Shots: 350 Moves Every Player Should Know ~ Robert Byrne

5. Play Your Best Pool: Secrets To Winning 8-Ball and 9-Ball ~ Philip B. Capelle

6. Pool and Billiards For Dummies ~ Nicholas Leider

7. The Illustrated Principles of Pool and Billiards ~ David G. Alciatore

8. Pleasures of Small Motions: Mastering the Mental Game of Pocket Billiards ~ Robert T. Fancher

9. Picture Yourself Shooting Pool: Step-By-Step Instruction For Successful Pocket Billiards ~ Matthew Sherman

10. The Science of Pocket Billiards ~ Jack H. Koehler

Top Ten Pool Posters at AcesWebWorld.com

Game rooms, pool rooms, bars and clubhouses – wherever you find pool tables, you’re apt to find pool and billiards posters decorating the walls. We sell a lot of pool posters at AcesWebWorld > Pool and Billiards, so, out of curiosity, I decided to see which were our most popular offerings. Here’s my top ten, compiled from stats going back one year. Updated October 26, 2017.

1. Hustler by Arthur Sarnoff

2. Legal Action by Chris Consani

3. Game of Fate by Chris Consani

4. The Night Café by Vincent van Gogh

5. Change for a Dollar by Frank Morrison

6. Behind the 8 Ball

7. Pool Shark

8. Hey! One Leg On The Floor by Arthur Sarnoff

9. Billiards by Mollie B.

10. Billiards Patent Art Prints

Review: Psychology of Losing – Tricks, Traps & Sharks by Allan P. Sand

Allan P. Sand is a man after my own heart. He’s written a book on sharking, a guide to protecting yourself from ruthless gamesmanship. Now, I’m pretty well known, especially around bars where players will do anything short of jumping jacks in your line-of-sight to distract you, for calling people out for their sharking moves. Strictly speaking, according to my definition, if you aren’t sitting still, by still I mean motionless, and quiet, by quiet I mean completely silent, you are engaged to one degree or another in sharking. There should be no asking about the weather, no striking up a conversation with other people in the poolroom, no whistling, no humming, no tapping your stick on the floor, no “nice shot”, no nothing. Of course, I’m often disappointed by the deportment of my fellow competitors.

Maybe, I spend too much time thinking about the topic. In the preface to his book The Psychology of Losing - Tricks, Traps & Sharks, Sand advises “It is important to be aware of situations where psychological tricks and traps can be applied. Being alert helps you minimize and counter their affects. Don't obsess about it, just accept the facts that these attempts are being used by everyone, whether on purpose, or unintentionally.”

Though I’m confident that I generally know when sharking is going on, and I’m quick to point out each individual offense, the task of categorizing the myriad of ploys that qualify as sharking is beyond my analytical abilities. Thankfully, Sand has taken on the monumental task and succeeded. Here, he has broken down sharking into 70+ variations. As I read through them, I found myself remembering again and again instances from my own experience.

Take, for example, his first subcategory “Accusations.” To show you how successful my opponent was in knocking me off my game, I’m still seething over an incident that happened three or four years ago. I was ahead in a local 9-ball tournament match when my opponent started complaining about my racking, claiming that the one-ball had to be dead-center on the spot. I was so pissed off that eventually I told him to go fuck himself and walked out without finishing the match. Not the response that Sand recommends but I did get considerable satisfaction blogging about the experience. I even wrote a poem, A Nit With No Name, about my opponent.

Obviously, Allan P. Sand has put a lot of time and thought into this book and we should be glad he did. I recommend it to all serious players. It’s analysis of sharking moves and suggested responses should be an invaluable asset to your development.

Wanted: Billiards Entrepreneurs

Cue holders are much in demand by pool players whether they play in leagues or tournaments, in bars or poolrooms. Everyone needs a safe place to rest their cherished cue between turns at the table. Presenting, now, the Cue-It-Up Cue Clip. These handy cue holders attach to counters or tabletops with jaws that expand up to two inches.

If you think you can move these handy accessories, contact Robin Dodson: robindodson@ix.netcom.com. Two-time world champion and WPBA Hall-of-Famer Robin will supply interested entrepreneurs with cases of 24 clips (six colors, four of each). Dealers will be eligible to win a limited edition (one of four made) $1500 Schon cue. Says Robin, “That’s just my way of saying ‘thank you.’ We can all make a few bucks and one lucky person will be doubly blessed.”

My Souped Up Bar Cue: Players Hydrogel Performance Pool Stick

A few weeks back, the custom-made pool cue I’ve been using during our bar league matches got knocked to the floor for the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, on this occasion it slapped a metal chair rail on the way which produced a super-sized ding midway up the shaft. As I worked on removing the indentation, I swore to myself that I’d never carry one of my better cues into a bar.

Confessedly, I’m not a guy who believes the cue makes the man. I grew up playing with a house cue and believe to this day that if you know how to play you should be able to play with anything that remotely resembles a cue stick. But, over the years, pool has followed golf in regards to offering duffers high-end high-priced equipment that’s guaranteed to elevate their game. The result is a plethora of lousy players with fancy sticks.

Anyway, I digress. To spare my regular playing cue, I started to shop around for a cue I’d use strictly for bars. After a little research, I decided on a blue Players Hydrogel Performance Cue Stick. First of all, it looked snazzy. The logo emblazoned on the butt reminded me of an endorsement packed NASCAR car. Bar players like that kind of thing – sticks with wolves, spiders, bears, lava lights. I had no doubt they’d admire my new Players cue more than they would my custom made Josey. I’m even thinking of using a glove to complete the slick bar player look.

Well, the stick has achieved all I expected and more. It seems the bar players really appreciate the chrome. But, what really has surprised me is the way the stick plays. It plays great. I’ve taken to leaving my high-end sticks at home and carrying it to the pool room for my daily practice sessions. For more info about the Players Hydrogel Performance Cue Stick visit my Players Cue page.

Note: After using the Porper Shaver on the tip to trim down the sides, the tip disintegrated. I replaced it with a Triangle tip which is working much better than the original. It looks like this model has been discontinued, so mine has quickly ascended to the status of collector's piece. If you're looking for a good C to B player's cue, I been getting some good feedback about Griffin cues.

Cheaters at Pool: Pity the Poor Desperate Fools

“Integrity is not a conditional word. It doesn't blow in the wind or change with the weather. It is your inner image of yourself, and if you look in there and see a man who cheats, then you know you are a worthless human being.”

I have to admit, there is a part of me, a small part that says people who are so desperate to win at pool that they resort to cheating are to be pitied. I mean, they truly are pitiful human beings. Thankfully, a larger part dominates, the one that screams “You no good mother-effin’, cheatin’ piece of crap – you’re lower than snake shit.”

The owner of the pool room where I grew up had zero tolerance for cheaters, air-barreling welchers, and other slick characters who thought they might make a score at his establishment. He dealt with them decisively - by throwing their asses out.

Down here in Florida, things aren’t so simple, especially in barrooms. For one thing, people who own the bars aren’t likely to make any moves that might cut into their revenues. Then, there’s the fact that their establishments are usually left in the hands of bar maids who don’t know squat about pool and couldn’t care less. And, of course, you have to consider the quirky nature of the rules which often vary from bar to bar. Around here, bar rules usually mean no safes, honest-effort, call the rails and kisses. Crazy, but that’s what it is.

Like the other day, I’m sitting at my usual perch, right next to the first bar table, watching the local Friday night bar tournament, when a player snookers himself on the 8-ball and calls a kick into the corner using one rail. Now, the 8-ball’s on the rail, so the call of “one-rail” immediately got my attention. Were it my shot, I would have called two rails allowing the cue ball to hit the second rail just in front of the 8. That is, if I really wanted to make the ball. I suspect that this player had no intention of pocketing the 8 and hoped only to knock it toward the hole. So, the player launches his kick shot. It hits the head rail then angles toward the 8-ball. It was pretty well on line, except it hit the side rail just before the eight and knocks the eight into the corner.

To the unknowing, it looked like a great shot. People were clapping and hooting and hollering. They did not realize it was technically a bad shot. Maybe they didn’t hear him call “one-rail.” Maybe they didn’t care. His opponent, a member of my pool league team, knew it was a bad shot as, of course, did I. The tournament director asked “Who won?” and I told her “Craig, because it was a bad hit.” Then, the arguing started. People started saying the hit looked good to them. I’m saying, “If you had been watching you would have seen it hit the long rail – he said ‘One rail.” Things continued to go back and forth like that with people who could not have been watching closely swearing that the shot was good.

The thing is, the guy who made the shot, and the subsequent bad hit, had as good a view of the cue ball as I did. He knew, as well as I and his opponent, that it was a bad hit and he could have settled the argument quickly by just admitting it. But, he wouldn’t. Why? Well, that would have meant the end of the night for him – the loss would have knocked him out of the tournament.

Eventually, to settle things, they decided to play the game again. The cheater won this game, though he was aided by another bad hit which he didn’t call on himself. Call me stupid, but when I make a bad hit I stand up and admit it right away and relinquish my turn. I don’t wait to see if my opponent notices or to see if he’s going to call it on me – that’s sleazy.

Anyway, the way I feel now, I don’t think I’ll be attending this tournament any time soon.

Been cheated? Leave a comment detailing your experience.

The Best Sneaky Pete

As you might expect, the emails keep rolling in.

Dear Ace,

I read that you prefer Sneaky-Pete cues. Why? Do you hustle pool? And which Sneaky-Pete would you recommend?

Thanks,

Justin B. May
Greenville, SC

It’s true, Justin, I do prefer Sneaky-Pete cues. Not because I like to go out hustling nits, but because they have the look and feel of the house cues I learned to play with when I was a kid in northern New Jersey.

I don’t mean to knock those who go in for the exotic inlays and fancy wraps – if that’s what you crave, have at it. But, let’s face it, all that artwork does nothing for your game. All it does is jack up the price of your pool-shooting implement.

I personally have three Sneakies – one custom made by Keith Josey of Josey Cues that I bring to the local pool rooms, a Predator SPW Sneaky Pete that I use from time to time, and a Mezz ZZSP Sneaky Pete that I carry around to bar tournaments and bar league matches. As far as I’m concerned, these are top-notched cue sticks. If you’re serious about getting yourself a Sneaky, I would suggest you start here.

John Bender Cues: Great Cues If You Can Get One

There’s a good reason why I haven’t written the great American pool novel – several reasons, really. But, among the top reasons is the fact that I’m easily distracted from the task by all kinds of meaningless pursuits. Such is life.

My friend John Bender, on the other hand, is a single-minded artisan whose energies are concentrated primarily on one task – making first class pool cues. Having worked with Richard Black, it’s no wonder that he too produces cues that not only play superbly but also qualify as legitimate works of art.

Of course, there’s a backlog. Players crave his cues. But, if you place an order, in due time you will be in possession of one of his magnificent signature cues. Believe me, there’s no stick that compares.

Click these thumbnails to see some detailed pics that were recently taken at John's shop:



Do yourself a favor. Check out John Bender Cues online.

Robert May (8/16/1934-10/22/2009): Gone

I heard, today, that Bob May, a fixture in our local Pasco County pool scene and a friend to many in the New Port Richey area, has passed away at 75. Bob’s health had been declining for several months but he battled bravely till the end. Originally from Wisconsin, it was his wish to be returned to his native soil, as cold and as lonely as it is up there.

Bob enjoyed playing pool and could be found many afternoons banging the balls around at Hammerheads or DJ’s. When he could, he liked to travel down to Stroker’s on Wednesday nights to play in their regular open 9-Ball tournament. Not long ago, he emailed me telling me he had finished in the money the previous night, scoring victories over Dave Williams and Donny Mills enroute.

Some time ago, I published Bob May’s One Rail Kicking System, here. I’m glad I did. Not only because Bobby got a kick out of it, but, since he always enjoyed sharing his knowledge of the game, it’s a fitting remembrance.

Non-Slip Shelf/Drawer Liner: The Perfect Cue Holder

My pool-shooting friend Sandy showed me saying that Bill up at Capone’s showed him. Apparently, I figured, it wasn’t that much of a secret. Yet, when I googled “non-slip shelf liner” with “pool cues” nothing showed up. So, I decided to share it with you here.

In a nutshell, a square of non-slip shelf liner makes a perfect portable cue holder. I brought a 9 x 12 piece to our last bar league session on Wednesday, draped it over the edge of the round table the team was sitting at, and it held the entire team’s cues all night without one single mishap. Usually, our cues are scattered around stuck in whatever nooks and crannies we can find. Wednesday, they were all together where they were easy to access and easy to keep track of.

I’m speaking as a guy who has wasted a considerable amount of money on commercial cue holders that do not work. Now, finally, I have found one that works. I bought my roll of non-slip shelf/drawer liner at our local dollar store. I’m sure the big department stores have it, too. It’s also available in bulk supply online.

Of course, if some drunk plows into your rig, the cues will go flying, but that would be the case no matter what kind of system you were using.