What Did He Say?

 As I mentioned in an earlier post, I attended Kilgore Junior College and was quite well known at the student union building. While I was very satisfied with hustling young men for their money on the pool tables I also took an interest in the action on the dominoe tables. I became far more interested in the language of the game than the matching of dots. I watched. I learned. Then one day I was invited to sit in on a game as the others were one player short. I had been studying the art of the game for awhile and felt pretty comfortable as a participant. To put it mildly, I wowed the regulars. I was one of only two white guys to be seen playing the games with the black players. Competition was tough! 

The thing that intrigued me most was the colorful terms used for calling count when someone scored. Examples would be: "Fido was a biting dog!" Used when some one scored five points. Other terms for five points were "Nick Willie!" "Nick Bouniconti!" and of course "Nic him, don't cut him!" Should a player score ten points you might hear, "Tenderloin beef steak ketsup and gravy!" or, "Tin top roof don't leak when it rains!" Should one be on his game and score fifteen points you were sure to hear "Ella, Della, and Luella!" Another favorite for fifteen was "Three sisters!" (Probably based on Ella and friends.) When someone repeated the person's count that had just scored they would holler "Don't get excited. Just rewrite it!" Twenty, you ask? That would be cause for a loud shout of "Boats!" or "Bow Ties!" Twenty-five? That was "Quarterhorse!" or "Quarter mule!" There were times that folks scored the elusive 30 and 35, but those were usually followed by the phrase "Get up! You don't play good no way!" 

I believe I enjoyed the banter more than the game itself. 

The players themselves were so colorful I couldn't wait to get a game going daily! There was Cuba. Cuba was a light skinned young guy with two gold teeth who loved talking trash. Then there was Himby. Himby was the other white guy allowed to play at the main tables. I credit Himby with the creation of the phrase "tenderloin beefsteak ketsup and gravy." There were so many it is hard to remember them all. One young man who played a pretty mean hand was named Darryl. If I told you Darryl could sing like a bird I'd be understating his talent. The old heads came to play as well. "Preacher" was well...a preacher at a nearby church who played "inspired" you might call it. Then there was Coach Johnny Rossum. He ran the SUB for the college and coached as an assistant on the football team. Johnny Rossum could play some dominoes! 

I still miss those days and the smack talk at the dominoe tables. I miss my frind Johnny Rossum too. He died a few years ago, I heard. I bet he went and organized a game in heaven.

Step Right Up! School's In Session!

 

From August of 1978 until December of 1980 I attended one of those places intended for "higher learning". I was 18 and figured I would continue my education. It seemed better than going to work in the East Texas oil fields. Kilgore Junior College... It had many names: "Harvard On The Highway!" "The University Of Southern Kilgore!" You get the picture. 

At first I was a good student. I went to class and was doing decent, grade wise. Then one day I stumbled upon a magical place right there on campus. I was headed to the campus book store and, as fate would have it, I turned right instead of left. A quick ancent up a flight of stairs and BAM! I had discovered a whole new world! The SUB. Short for Student Union Building. It consisted of a fully functioning snack bar, people playing cards, people playing dominoes, and to my delight...people playing pool! You see, I was a pretty fair hand at pool. I had been playing since I was about five years old and had become quite fond of the game. My dad taught me to play while attending the festivities at a local tavern on a regular basis. Back then noone thought anything of a little kid and his dad being in such an establishment. There were no Karens in those days to call CPS on you. People minded their own business and stayed out of that of other folks. Before long, dad baught us a regulation sized pool table for our house. So you can understand my delight at seeing multiple tables in this new found haven of rest for the weary student.

I watched as young men played, and then I noticed something. Money seemed to be changing hands at the end of the game. I was intrigued. I calmly watched and learned which players played for money. To challenge the table you simply placed a quarter on the rail to signify that you had the winner. We played for an amount determined at the start of the game. It had to be kept "on the down low", as they say, because gambling was expressly discouraged. There were actually signs saying just that hanging above the tables!

My normal fee for "lessons" was $1 payable in cash immediately upon conclusion of the game. No credit. No cards. Cash only. I was in heaven! So many suckers...er...young men in need of a pool lesson. I would soon find myself spending every morning at the SUB handing out grades, usually a "D"...for defeated! I could easily leave with about $50-$60 in my pocket after arriving with only a couple of bucks that morning. So easy. Sooooo easy. Remember, this was 1978 when $50 was worth what today would be about $300! Who needed a job?! 

Then reality set in. My time at the SUB had eaten into my classroom time. My grades were horrible because I rarely went to class. I was making too much money to be bothered. But that all finally caught up to me. I had a 0.84 GPA and was put on academic probation. I dropped out of school and went to work at a machine shop for six bucks an hour. Forty hours a week pulled in about two thirds what I was making having fun in about 20 hours a week. That's life I suppose. 

Here I am forty-four years later and I haven't seriously picked up a stick in all that time.What a waste. Oh, but what a time I had for those two years?! Separating those young men from their money was great fun! Especially those cocky fellas who talked a big game but fell short when it did not translate to their sticks! I sometimes think it would be fun to get back into practice, but the reality is I just don't have the heart to take folk's money in these hard times! Besides... Folks will shoot you these days for taking their money! 

But PT Barnum was right ya know?