lfigueroa
Verified Member
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2004
- Messages
- 2,540
There is a certain deja vu-like quality to returning to the DCC.
Really, more like an episode from the “Twilight Zone.” You walk into the tournament area and it is as if nothing had changed since your last visit a year before, or even perhaps your visit two or three years previously. Everything appears just as you left it, as if it were on a continuous loop playing on and on in time and space until your return.
Walking in from the hotel I see Joe Salzar and Sureman selling wonderful cues; Little Joe Villapondo insisting you need his instructional DVD; the Hustlin’ booth in full bloom; Guido Orlandi, repairing cues (though now, from a weigh loss program, a shadow of his former shadow). Ronnie Allen sitting outside the tournament area holding court with Danny DiLiberto and other luminaries, known and not so well-known.
I collect my player's badge and lanyard and walk into the main tournament arena and the feeling of being in some pool time warp gets even stronger, with all the usual suspects in attendance: the tournament players, the road agents, the bank pool and 1pocket mechanics, the tournament desk, banners with photos and names of past champions suspended from the rafters. Ken Shuman is on the mike, and the Accu-Stats arena is lit up like a prize ring. There is a strong Filipino contingent spread across the room and though I spot Neils, Darren, and Ralf, the typical European contingent seems absent. Other champions abound, notably Strickland with his tape wrapped, Zulu cue already sharking an opponent about playing too slow.
I see Grady sitting by the tournament scheduling screen and I say hello. He looks great and appears to be in fine spirits. Other than a hoarse voice which limits him to just a few words you’d never know he’s been ill. I also say hello to Greg Stevens and Freddy the Beard.
Wandering upstairs I find the 14.1 room and am told John Schmidt, “warming up,” runs 249 the day before.
I find an vacant table and try and get the feel for the Diamonds. Unfortunately, my draw for the first round doesn’t have has me playing until the next day at 2pm. Actually, I’ve been lucky the last couple of years, getting to play the first day. But it is a pisser to to have to cool your jets for 24 hours and some players were bee-atching that they had flown in Saturday for the 1pocket and didn’t get to play until Monday -- IOW, $300+ extra to the hotel for room and board.
In the morning Jay says hello from the breakfast counter. My first round Monday I play Brad Beckham from Atlanta in the large upstairs room. I hate the upstairs at the DCC. All the tables on the second floor are “illuminated” with 7‘ light’s and the ends of the tables disappear into darkness. As we are about to lag Brad informs me that he is weak and I have pulled an easy draw for myself. Of course he then wins the the lag, breaks, and puts me in a death trap frozen to the back of a ball near my pocket. But, somehow, I prevail 3-0. Truth be told I hit a couple of amazing two and three rail banks and execute one complete and total dead mortal shee-at-out: in attempting to take a ball out of his pocket the ball bobbles back and forth in the jaws, zooms cross-table hugging the end rail and knocks in a ball to my pocket and leaves me with perfect position with position built in.
Afterwards, I watch Danny Harriman struggle through a few racks of straight pool for a 40-something ball run. He is unhappy with his play and the “boinginess” of the rails. From the balcony I watch some Banks and all I know is that John Morra is a man on fire. You can tell, even from a distance, that he is "in the zone," in "dead punch," and everything looks like a hanger to him.
Running into Mark Wilson I ask his if his instructional book is still in labor and he tells me about the three editors he’s worked with, the errors and rewrites and, though originally scheduled for release in 2003 it will, finally, be out this year. In the evening Bernie Pettipiece from Phoenix and I practice for a couple of hours.
Ken Shuman, announces before the Banks final that Greg Sullivan has finalized plans for a Southern Classic at the Harrah’s property in Tunica for July 20-28 (There is much joking in the peanut gallery about how this will eventually become known as “The Grits Classic.”) In addition he tells the crowd that because the size of the Harrah’s property there is much larger, Diamond will also be bringing in 87 7’ foot tables and will also hold an amateur event at the same time. AND, Ken then announces that Greg Sullivan’s long term vision is to, in 2-4 years, establish *a tour* at four Harrah’s properties across the country. I believe, from a pervious conversation with Greg, that a third event will be in Atlantic City, and now perhaps there will also be a fourth. There is much discussion amongst the players about how this will impact the DCC and much of the sentiment goes: amateurs cannot attend multiple events and must pick and choose where they spend limited pool dollars. The question becomes: will more events defuse support for the the DCC with players choosing to attend other events closer to home...
The next morning I have breakfast with J.D. Dolan, a most excellent published writer who has occasionally written on the pool scene. Steve Booth eventually joins us. J.D. tells me that he is currently working on a book on the life of Ralph Greenleaf. He tells me several wonderful stories that he’s discovered through his research and it sounds like it will be a great read.
My second match is in the main tournament room against California room owner Jerry Matchin and the karma wheel does a 180 degree turn -- Jerry hits several amazing two and three railer banks, shee-ats-out and gains position with position off the corners of a side pocket. I also may have goofed when at one point we both thought I was on the hill one game, I make a ball but the balls in the tray show I am still a ball short and I eventually lose the game and match 3-1. I decide not to buy back in. I have a personal commitment in Indianapolis that I must keep and so I drive north and eventually west back home to St. Louis.
This year I saw far fewer vendors than in previous years. There did seem to be a fair amount of action upstairs. I watched John Schmidt play Cliff Joyner some 1pocket for a while and it seemed Cliff was playing like the Joyner of old, hitting some very precise banks and pocketing balls with brio. In the morning I ride down in the hotel elevator with him and and ask, “Morning, Cliff. How’d it go with John last night?” And, as we descend for seven floors, Cliff mumbles as only Cliff can mumble about how it went and the only word I understood was “set,” so I don’t know how it turned out.
My purchases this year include a copy of Alf Taylor’s, “The Other Side of the Road” graciously reserved and brought to me by Bill Porter. Thank you, Bill. I also buy one of the new long-sleeved Hustlin’ t-shirts for my wife. They are very cool, being nicely designed and more colorful than their usual editions. I see John Brumback and he sells me a copy of his banking DVD for $49.95 and deadpans, “Do you want your nickel change?” (Come on John, just say it’s $50
I also buy a single platter Diamond ball polisher. Tables and ball polishers are on special at the Derby, so if you need any of these, the tournament is an excellent time to pick one up. But, as always, the best part of the Derby is not only watching the champions and getting to play in a big event, but getting to see friends from all over the country. You should go at least once if you have not.
Thank yous to NH Steve, vapros, III, kollegedave, miller, and usblues. Your words of encouragement mean a lot.
Lou Figueroa
Really, more like an episode from the “Twilight Zone.” You walk into the tournament area and it is as if nothing had changed since your last visit a year before, or even perhaps your visit two or three years previously. Everything appears just as you left it, as if it were on a continuous loop playing on and on in time and space until your return.
Walking in from the hotel I see Joe Salzar and Sureman selling wonderful cues; Little Joe Villapondo insisting you need his instructional DVD; the Hustlin’ booth in full bloom; Guido Orlandi, repairing cues (though now, from a weigh loss program, a shadow of his former shadow). Ronnie Allen sitting outside the tournament area holding court with Danny DiLiberto and other luminaries, known and not so well-known.
I collect my player's badge and lanyard and walk into the main tournament arena and the feeling of being in some pool time warp gets even stronger, with all the usual suspects in attendance: the tournament players, the road agents, the bank pool and 1pocket mechanics, the tournament desk, banners with photos and names of past champions suspended from the rafters. Ken Shuman is on the mike, and the Accu-Stats arena is lit up like a prize ring. There is a strong Filipino contingent spread across the room and though I spot Neils, Darren, and Ralf, the typical European contingent seems absent. Other champions abound, notably Strickland with his tape wrapped, Zulu cue already sharking an opponent about playing too slow.
I see Grady sitting by the tournament scheduling screen and I say hello. He looks great and appears to be in fine spirits. Other than a hoarse voice which limits him to just a few words you’d never know he’s been ill. I also say hello to Greg Stevens and Freddy the Beard.
Wandering upstairs I find the 14.1 room and am told John Schmidt, “warming up,” runs 249 the day before.
I find an vacant table and try and get the feel for the Diamonds. Unfortunately, my draw for the first round doesn’t have has me playing until the next day at 2pm. Actually, I’ve been lucky the last couple of years, getting to play the first day. But it is a pisser to to have to cool your jets for 24 hours and some players were bee-atching that they had flown in Saturday for the 1pocket and didn’t get to play until Monday -- IOW, $300+ extra to the hotel for room and board.
In the morning Jay says hello from the breakfast counter. My first round Monday I play Brad Beckham from Atlanta in the large upstairs room. I hate the upstairs at the DCC. All the tables on the second floor are “illuminated” with 7‘ light’s and the ends of the tables disappear into darkness. As we are about to lag Brad informs me that he is weak and I have pulled an easy draw for myself. Of course he then wins the the lag, breaks, and puts me in a death trap frozen to the back of a ball near my pocket. But, somehow, I prevail 3-0. Truth be told I hit a couple of amazing two and three rail banks and execute one complete and total dead mortal shee-at-out: in attempting to take a ball out of his pocket the ball bobbles back and forth in the jaws, zooms cross-table hugging the end rail and knocks in a ball to my pocket and leaves me with perfect position with position built in.
Afterwards, I watch Danny Harriman struggle through a few racks of straight pool for a 40-something ball run. He is unhappy with his play and the “boinginess” of the rails. From the balcony I watch some Banks and all I know is that John Morra is a man on fire. You can tell, even from a distance, that he is "in the zone," in "dead punch," and everything looks like a hanger to him.
Running into Mark Wilson I ask his if his instructional book is still in labor and he tells me about the three editors he’s worked with, the errors and rewrites and, though originally scheduled for release in 2003 it will, finally, be out this year. In the evening Bernie Pettipiece from Phoenix and I practice for a couple of hours.
Ken Shuman, announces before the Banks final that Greg Sullivan has finalized plans for a Southern Classic at the Harrah’s property in Tunica for July 20-28 (There is much joking in the peanut gallery about how this will eventually become known as “The Grits Classic.”) In addition he tells the crowd that because the size of the Harrah’s property there is much larger, Diamond will also be bringing in 87 7’ foot tables and will also hold an amateur event at the same time. AND, Ken then announces that Greg Sullivan’s long term vision is to, in 2-4 years, establish *a tour* at four Harrah’s properties across the country. I believe, from a pervious conversation with Greg, that a third event will be in Atlantic City, and now perhaps there will also be a fourth. There is much discussion amongst the players about how this will impact the DCC and much of the sentiment goes: amateurs cannot attend multiple events and must pick and choose where they spend limited pool dollars. The question becomes: will more events defuse support for the the DCC with players choosing to attend other events closer to home...
The next morning I have breakfast with J.D. Dolan, a most excellent published writer who has occasionally written on the pool scene. Steve Booth eventually joins us. J.D. tells me that he is currently working on a book on the life of Ralph Greenleaf. He tells me several wonderful stories that he’s discovered through his research and it sounds like it will be a great read.
My second match is in the main tournament room against California room owner Jerry Matchin and the karma wheel does a 180 degree turn -- Jerry hits several amazing two and three railer banks, shee-ats-out and gains position with position off the corners of a side pocket. I also may have goofed when at one point we both thought I was on the hill one game, I make a ball but the balls in the tray show I am still a ball short and I eventually lose the game and match 3-1. I decide not to buy back in. I have a personal commitment in Indianapolis that I must keep and so I drive north and eventually west back home to St. Louis.
This year I saw far fewer vendors than in previous years. There did seem to be a fair amount of action upstairs. I watched John Schmidt play Cliff Joyner some 1pocket for a while and it seemed Cliff was playing like the Joyner of old, hitting some very precise banks and pocketing balls with brio. In the morning I ride down in the hotel elevator with him and and ask, “Morning, Cliff. How’d it go with John last night?” And, as we descend for seven floors, Cliff mumbles as only Cliff can mumble about how it went and the only word I understood was “set,” so I don’t know how it turned out.
My purchases this year include a copy of Alf Taylor’s, “The Other Side of the Road” graciously reserved and brought to me by Bill Porter. Thank you, Bill. I also buy one of the new long-sleeved Hustlin’ t-shirts for my wife. They are very cool, being nicely designed and more colorful than their usual editions. I see John Brumback and he sells me a copy of his banking DVD for $49.95 and deadpans, “Do you want your nickel change?” (Come on John, just say it’s $50
I also buy a single platter Diamond ball polisher. Tables and ball polishers are on special at the Derby, so if you need any of these, the tournament is an excellent time to pick one up. But, as always, the best part of the Derby is not only watching the champions and getting to play in a big event, but getting to see friends from all over the country. You should go at least once if you have not.Thank yous to NH Steve, vapros, III, kollegedave, miller, and usblues. Your words of encouragement mean a lot.
Lou Figueroa
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