Rivertown Lounge

Does anyone remember the old Rivertown Lounge bar on Orchard Street? It was demolished recently to make way for the 20-story building now going up on the block. I played pool there once with some other photographer friends, likely sometime in early 2001 or possibly late 2000. But I do remember that the pool table was in a secluded back room devoted strictly for the table. There must've been some great action going on, I wish it was still there. I used to have a swing-lens Widelux panoramic camera that I carried around. Here's a shot from way back then. This is a 1/15th of a second photograph (which took 2.5 seconds considering the sweep of the lens), pre-smoking ban.

Shark attack

There is a bar on Rivington that I used to frequent somewhat regularly called Welcome to the Johnsons. I consulted my 2000 Zagat NYC nightlife guide, which describes it as "Grandma's living room crossed with a pool hall." I'm not crazy about the place, especially if it's crowded. When that's the case inevitably people are playing doubles, which I can't stand. A few months ago I had lugged my 4x5 camera and tripod there to take some exposures. But I wanted to play a little before setting up the camera. So I'm playing this guy, I think his name was Al, and he did something so low that I've not been back since. When I wasn't looking, he moved my pocket-hanging 5-ball from right smack dab in the middle of a corner pocket to just around the tip of that corner's rail edge. As soon as I noticed it wasn't such an easy shot anymore I called him out asking if he had moved it. He feigned incredulousness and laughingly denied my charge. I kept at it, saying that it was right in the middle of the pocket a few moments earlier but now all of a sudden it was a much more difficult shot. Disgusted, I slammed the cue ball down the table into the 5, sinking it and sending the cue ball several rails. At which point he said "Whoa, you're hustling me!" I didn't "win" that game but I definitely let him know I was on to his cheating. Above is a photograph from that night, and below is a shot from more friendly times in 2002.

An obscure game of pool

Yesterday, Yvonne pointed out a story to me in the Times that I likely would never have seen, in the Business Day section. It's a story about a game of pool called Bottle Pool. I had to read parts of the story a couple times to make sure I understood the rules. "Bottle pool combines elements of billiards, straight pool and chess," writes the author, Harry Hurt III. Now I'm anxious to play it. Here's a link. I'm impressed the Times did its second billiards-related story in just over a week. In fact, come to think of it, I've amassed a small library of clips from the Times this year, first being the story they did on "New York's nicest and best pool player" Tony Robles, followed by an obit for Steve Mizerak, then last week's billiards tournament in Queens. Photo above is by Gordon Grant, a fellow NYT stringer.

Whiskey Ward

There is a bar on Essex Street called the Whiskey Ward that has, in my opinion, the best table in the Lower East Side. It's just a super classy place to play. I live around the corner from there and it's always the first place I check when I go on one of my game-hunting routes. The table is very prominent in the back of the bar, has plenty of clearance (unless the bar is ridiculously crowded, in which case I wouldn't want to be there anyway) and the last time I was there they still had a cone of chalk on the wall. Like any civilized place there's a chalkboard to write your name, the cues are decent and there's a prominent list of rules (which includes my least favorite: must make contact on the 8 or it's a loss). Without fail, the level of action is consistently high. One night I played the lead singer of Interpol, whose name is, appropriately, Paul Banks. He beat me despite unknowingly playing half his game with a cue that had no tip. I am tempted to recruit some people and start up a Monday night league team there. This is a pretty mediocre picture taken with my 4x5 camera that doesn't really do the place justice.

Wichita

There's something almost mischievous about playing pool in my hometown of Wichita, Kansas. I've visited home twice this year and am practically unbeaten at pool (the exception being my father, more on that some other time). Not that I play for money or try to hustle people or anything like that. But it seems that being an anonymous, "non-regular" has an intimidating effect on people. My guess is that not many people in Wichita walk into bars alone strictly to play pool.

When I was there in March I got out the yellow pages and saw a listing for a place called "Club Billiards" on W. Douglas in the Delano District, just west of downtown Wichita. I walked in there and saw tables of all sizes, including a snooker table on which a ring game was being played called "Golf," the rules of which are still a little unclear. (At another place I visited there was a whole league of players playing a 10-ball game called "Bowling," with balls instead of pins and scoring marked in frames as strikes and spares. Ugh.) But I could tell Club Billiards was a real down-home place, an all-time classic. So much smoke in the air that my eyes watered. There were three people, wearing matching shirts and everything, playing each other on one of the small bar tables at the end of the room and I was told their opposing league team hadn't shown up. So I walk over, put my name up and started playing on a bigger table nearby. When my turn came up I went on to beat each of the three guys and it was a cakewalk, like they were overplaying themselves or something. I took this one photograph on my way out and mailed a print of it to the place a few weeks later. When I went back in July I was floored to see the print framed, hanging right beside the table where I had played four months earlier.

Filming at Sophies

Last week I ran into a teammate of mine, Slima, on Avenue A. He mentioned that there was some filming going on at Sophies. So I went to investigate. I rounded the corner on 5th Street and could see black trash bags covering the windows and a big van outside with tons of lighting equipment, carts, stands, etc. I quietly let myself into the bar, where a film crew was making a commercial for some sort of liquor called "The Knot." It was an older man they were filming, probably in his 60s, and the bar had been made to look like an old, run-down place from the 1940s. Near where I was standing there was a monitor connected to the camera so I got to see what the camera was seeing. Just behind him on the left side of their shot I could see a sliver of the Sophies pool table. I was stoked it was part of their commercial, and I was impressed they were filming it in black and white. Nobody said anything to me, even after I quietly asked someone if I could take some snaps of the scene. After about 5 minutes I left, as the AC was turned off and it was pretty stuffy in there.

Technical difficulties

For some reason, I can't seem to post photos to this blog without crashing Safari. Netscape and IE aren't working either. So I'll post this link instead. This is a killer two-rail kick shot (aka "the Z kick") made by Efren Reyes against Earl Strickland in 1995. Reyes was voted into the BCA Hall of Fame in 2003: Strickland was voted in this year. The following is from Wikipedia:

Reyes, along with the other "Filipino invasion" players, revolutionized the way pool is played by their introduction to the sport of pinpoint precision kicking. Reyes' ability to "kick safe" and to kick balls into intended pockets is legendary. This ability, coupled with his superb skill at other aspects of the game, led U.S. professionals to give him the appellation "The Magician." Before Reyes and his compatriots came over to the U.S., no one here had seen anything like their kicking skill set.

Billiards tournament

A little late getting started today, so thanks to LC and AC for the heads up on this story in the Times today about the Sang Lee International billiards tournament at the Carom Cafe in Flushing, Queens. I may have to go check it out this weekend.

Superfine

One time in 2002 I met up with an old friend from Wichita at this place in Brooklyn called Superfine, right under the Manhattan Bridge. It used to be an auto mechanic shop way back when. But the only thing that resembles a car now is the classic orange-felted 1960s Brunswick Celebrity pool table. In fact, if that table was a car it would totally be a white convertible with orange seats and huge chrome tail fins. Best thing about the table is that it's free.

This is my girlfriend Yvonne last Sunday lining up a shot in a game of 9ball, which she went on to win with a ball-in-hand shot on the 9. Then we played a game of straight pool, in which she scored 8 points to my 25.

The cue sticks are fine but the duct-taped plastic rack is a joke. The table is a bit wobbly (so don't bump into it too hard) but it's up on an elevated playing area that has abundant seating and plenty of wall clearance from all sides. I talked to one of the bartenders and she said it was going to be re-felted August 22 when the bar closes down for an upgrade. Anxious to see if it's still orange next time we go back.

Pool on the Hudson River

About a year ago I was taking a walk down around Battery Park City and came across two outdoor pool tables located on the promenade of the Hudson River. I didn't stop to play but made a mental note. A few weeks ago I set out to find them again. Basically, they're located at the northern end of Battery Park City, in Nelson A. Rockefeller Park. They're practically right on the water, located between Warren and Murray Streets. There's an NYC Parks and Rec office right there, simply show them your ID and they'll give you the balls, a stick and a rack.

So I'm practicing and of course there's a very strong wind so the balls never stayed put long. Then this middle-aged woman who was riding on her bike came to a sudden halt and asked if she could take a few hits. Well, it turns out she liked talking more than she liked playing. But she was nice enough, and I could tell she had played before. After she left a woman in her early 40s and her son, who I'd guess to be around 10, came up and sat down to watch me. I asked if they wanted to play, but turns out just the boy did. He was super into pool, even knew rules to 9ball, so we played that. His mother confided in me that he's addicted to watching poker and pool on ESPN and that he loves anything that has to do with Las Vegas. She said he's a big fan of Ewa Mataya Laurance. This past weekend I went down there and played another kid (above) who was pretty quiet. This time it wasn't the wind that made it difficult, but rather seedlings that had fallen onto the table that would drastically change the direction of my slower hits.

Fluke shot

One thing I really like about playing league rules is that you don't have to call kisses, caroms, combinations, etc. Or more accurately, you don't get penalized for making these types of shots uncalled. This is a diagram (approximate) of a kick shot I made last night during my first game of a match against a player who's ranked a 6. (The past few weeks I've been enjoying playing as a 3.) I was playing stripes and had one ball left on the table, the 14. I was aiming for the cross corner pocket but I hit the rail a tad too far to the right. The cue ball made firm contact with the 14, which caromed off the 8 to go in the pocket. I didn't even see the 14 go in though because I was watching the 8 sloooowly roll toward the other corner. I can't believe it didn't fall in, it stopped right on the edge. Once it stopped I realized I had almost snookered myself behind the 2 and the 1. But I could see enough of the 8 for a thin cut in for the win. My opponent went on to win the next three games, but I won the match on the fifth game. A fluke? Yes. But it reminds me of a saying that I live by: luck is the residue of skill.

Remembering Fast Eddie Parker

This is an assignment I had in 2000, when I worked as a newspaper photographer at the Monroe Evening News in Monroe, Michigan. It was a Sunday and I was told by the weekend news editor that some sort of trick shot exhibition pool player was coming to town to do a performance and that our paper would be sending a writer to cover the story as well. I got to the pool hall about 20 minutes before the show began and introduced myself to the man, Eddie Parker, and told him I was assigned to photograph his performance. He was more than happy to have me photograph him and we talked a little bit about pool. He mentioned a word "recherche," as in, a style of pool playing. It has several definitions, "careful systematic search" "systematic consideration" and "the work of inquiring into something thoroughly and systematically." He also mentioned rail and diamond systems for aiming.

Several months ago I was at Sophies and I noticed up high on one of the walls, near a corner, that there was an obituary for Eddie Parker. Immediately it all came back to me. So I called up the Evening News librarian, Marge McBee, to see if she could find that story. She made a photocopy of the clipping and mailed it to me. This is a photograph of that clipping so I'm sorry for the quality. But I've retyped the text of the story and posted it here. Makes for interesting reading six years later.

There's lots on the internet about whether Walter Tevis based some of his characters on certain players, who was real and who was fictional, etc. Won't go into any of that here. On February 2, 2001, less than a year after this shot was taken, Eddie Parker died in San Antonio.

published May 8, 2000

"If you're going to bet with a guy, bet on his first shot."
--Fast Eddie Parker, giving advice Sunday on the game of pool

Fast Eddie's shots fall

Renowned pool player Eddie Parker made an appearance at Silver Que Family Billiards Sunday, giving tips of the trade to interested onlookers.

by Joshua Kennedy
Evening News staff writer

Making five billiard balls in one shot, while candidly discussing how easy it is and sipping a drink is nothing new to Fast Eddie Parker.
The world-renowned pool player, most famous because the book and movie "The Hustler" were based on his experiences, spent a few hours Sunday night at Silver Que Family Billiards, 411 E. Front St., giving tips of the trade to those watching.
Continually lining up the balls and explaining where to aim, Fast Eddie cracked shot after shot. When one wouldn't fall, he'd reset the balls and shoot again saying, "C'mon, Eddie boy." Invariably the shots fell the second time.
He explained the diamond system-the dots along the rails of a pool table-and how to use the diamonds as targets for particular shots.
It was during this lesson that the nearly 30 people present may have guessed why they call him Fast Eddie. Many of the shots demonstrated were performed with such accuaracy and quickness that he was lining up the next shot before the cue stopped moving and the first shot fell.
Explaining a complicated numbering system of counting diamonds and rails, Fast Eddie lined up a shot-long and tight on a rail-and proceeded to bank the cue and make the shot all while talking near the speed of light.
He explained nine ball rules and tricky shooting techniques as casually as if seated at a dining room table and almost always made the first shot-which he turned into another lesson for those watching.
"If you're going to bet with a guy, bet on his first shot," Fast Eddie said.
At one point, during a particularly tricky "double clutch shot," in which the cue is slammed down the table lengthwise in the middle and is hit again with the cue stick causing the cue to spin back and sink a corner shot, Fast Eddie's billfold was placed on the table.
Fast Eddie was, at one point in his long career, what is known as a money player. That means he traveled around and made a living playing pool games for money. After missing the double clutch shot twice a patron of Silver Que said it was time to put some money on the shot.
Fast Eddie readily accepted, but was the only one to put his money on the table. To the chagrin of the vocal watcher, Fast Eddie sank the tricky shot seconds after laying his wallet on the table.
Once, Mike Donnelly, the former owner of the pool hall, was asked to help demonstrate something Fast Eddie called "the railroad shot."
It consisted of two house sticks side to side pointing from one corner to the rail pocket, and a third house stick from the same corner pointing to the opposite corner. A piece of paper was used to hold the cue ball up on the two side-by-side sticks, and four balls were put behind that.
"The cue represents the engine," Fast Eddie said while scurrying around the table lining up balls.
Another ball was placed in front of the side pocket the sticks were pointing at, the red three ball (because the caboose is supposed to be red). Then Mr. Parker hit the cue ball, which was set up in front of the same side pocket.
The cue ball traveled three rails around the table and then slowly became elevated by the sticks on the table. As it careened into the corner at the fat end of the "train" the caboose rolled into the rear of the balls and set the trick in motion.
The cue knocked in the ball in front of the side pocket, which Fast Eddie called the train station, and moved aside for the "cars" on the train to drop one by one into the pocket.
Every shot liked this was greeted with chuckles of amazement and applause.
After explaining many other rules and demonstrating other tricky shots, including one from a Miller beer commercial, and one that required 12 balls and three racking triangles, Fast Eddie said it was time to wrap up the show.
He said he performs about 200 similar shows a year all around the world. Anyone interested in more information can check out Fast Eddie's Web site at www.fasteddie.org.

A little three-cushion practice

Have you ever played three-cushion billiards? It is much, much more difficult than it looks. A couple months ago I checked out a place in Queens on a Saturday night and lo and behold there was a billiards tournament underway. There was one 5x10 Chevillotte table that wasn't being used, so I took it for an hour. But I spent a lot of that time surreptitiously eyeing other people's matches. I didn't know if it had to go ball-cushion-cushion-cushion-ball or if it could go cushion-ball-cushion-cushion-ball, etc. After I was done playing (it's a real workout, you literally work up a sweat because the table surfaces are electrically heated so that the balls roll longer) I kicked back with a Heineken and watched some of the tournament matches. One guy was studying his shot for about two minutes before he hit. He was shooting the white ball from near a rail while the red and yellow balls were close to each other in the middle of the table. I swear he must've gone seven rails before the white clipped both the red and the yellow at the very end of the roll. I couldn't help myself from letting out an audible "damn" after I saw that.

The photo above is of me practicing at Billiards Sports Plaza in my hometown of Wichita, Kansas this past July 22. I played for an hour and only made one successful billiard shot.

A bar player's dream

There is a bar in Brooklyn that has one of the best back room pool tables I've ever seen. The name of the place is Coco 66, it's located at 66 Greenpoint Avenue in the Greenpoint neighborhood. I'm told the room was a custom design by an architect who clearly is a fan of pool. There's even a bead string up above to keep track of points if you want to play straight pool. The house sticks are nice two-piece cues. Special thanks to my girlfriend Yvonne, who came along with me late last year to check it out. That's her in the above photo (which was a five-minute exposure) reading a book as I was shooting a rack.

Sophies

This is where I saw my first serious pool being played, back in early 2005. I had no idea there was such a thing as a pool league until I walked into Sophies one night and saw people keeping score and players marking pocket selections with their wallets. A few months later I got an assignment for The City section of the Sunday New York Times that was right up my alley. The assignment was to illustrate an essay that had been written about a bar that had closed down years ago on the Upper West Side. It was one guy's recollection of how the neighborhood had changed so drastically since. I was told to find a well-worn bar, but make it look kind of empty/sad/lonely. I immediately thought of Sophies. Below is what they published. I began going to the bar a lot more regularly and now I even play on one of their league teams.

I couldn't make this shot again in a million years

This is a diagram of a match-clinching shot I made several weeks ago at Sophies. It's a pretty self-explanatory shot, I am shooting from C1 and don't have a direct shot at my last ball on the table (the 13). A shot or two before I made this shot, my coach had advised me to simply give my opponent the ball, to essentially hand it to him and give him ball in hand anywhere on the table (I'm not crazy about this tactic, but more on that some other time). So instead of using it to pocket his one or his two, he played a safe in return, leaving me blind on the 13, setting me up for this shot.

So I line up the kick shot, honestly just hoping to make contact with the 13. But what happened was pretty sick. As you can see, the 13 went into the side pocket and left me with an angle on the 8 into the opposite side to win the match. The guy was pretty disgusted, he didn't even make eye contact with me as we shook hands.

Best part about the evening, aside from the win, is that earlier in the match I had made the 8 in on a break. Still waiting for my patch to arrive.

Fast Eddie Felson

Some thoughts about Paul Newman.

I've always been somewhat of a complacent moviegoer and I admit that I've only seen a handful of Paul Newman's movies. Most of them on HBO or Cinemax when I was a kid. He's approaching 82 and I am preparing myself for the day I see a headline that reads "Screen Legend, Social Activist and Philanthropist Paul Newman Dies."

Walter Tevis, who wrote both The Hustler and The Color of Money, was posthumously voted into the Billiard Congress of America's Hall of Fame seven years after he died. Both books are good reads for anyone interested in pool. The differences between those books and the movies they went on to become is a topic that I love to discuss. I have seen The Hustler probably 20 times and every time I watch it I always wonder which scene from it might end up getting used for one of those video-montage-compilation tributes to Newman's life's work. There are so many great possibilities but my suggestion would be the scene from Arthur's Pool Hall. It's right after his opponent (we'll call him "Friend") had suggested raising the bet in a game of 9-ball to "two on the five, five on the nine".

--Fast Eddie: (chuckling) You know what kid, I think maybe you're a hustler.

--Friend: Try me.

--Fast Eddie: (turns immediately serious, not missing a beat) Shoot.

--Friend: (laughing, feigning intimidation) Okay.

Friend breaks and makes the 5 in on the break, camera goes up to Eddie as he is chalking his cue, slight smirk on his face, assessing what he's just seen, and then he pulls out the money he owes.

--Friend: You, uh, sure you don't want to quit, friend?

cut to the legendary scene

--Fast Eddie: Let's cut out the small stuff, huh? Hundred dollar freeze-out. Ten games, ten bucks a game, winner take all. Then we'll see who quits.

(Fast Eddie pulls out a coin)

--Fast Eddie: Call it.

--Friend: Heads.

(coin lands tails)

--Friend: You win.

(Friend goes on to rack)

--Friend: (mocking him) You better not miss, friend.

--Fast Eddie (with scorn): I don't rattle, kid. But just for that I'm gonna beat you flat. (grabs cue ball, breaks and pockets the nine)

--Fast Eddie: That's one.

What follows is a series of combo-carom-billiard shots clearly set up for the movie camera. To the average non-player, the effect of Eddie running ten consecutive games is pretty convincing, considering legendary Willie Mosconi's technical supervision of the film.

--Fast Eddie: That's ten! Now punk, you two-bit punk, come on, pay up, a hundred bucks. (nearly trembling with anger) You quitting, friend?

What happens immediately after this is what takes the movie to a much deeper, darker level. It is Paul Newman's portrayal of Fast Eddie Felson that has singlehandedly kept pool alive in the minds of the movie-watching general public for nearly the past half century. He is irreplaceable. He has my vote for the BCA Hall of Fame. This is a shot from his narration of a piece played by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra at Carnegie Hall in New York City, April 16, 2005. Photo by Cary Conover