Michael Silvers

 Michael Silvers is a successful attorney who has a passion for playing pool.  He and I competed with each other for several years, twice a week, on Mondays & Thursdays, from 3:00 pm to midnight on most nights.  Michael was not a gambler or action player, as some like to call themselves today but that never impaired his love for the game nor his desire to improve. 

Mike and I met at the infamous Sport Palace of New Orleans in 1981 and developed a friendship that lasted for decades.  When we weren't trying to beat up on one another, we had many fine conversations about a wide variety of subjects.  Besides being a successful attorney, he was a family man, married, and has a son and grandchild.  Mike lived a storied life, but it was a private one and he wasn't one to boast about his many accomplishments and I was privileged to learn from him all those many years.

Our practice sessions were serious, and Mike did not tolerate interruptions, so I schooled the many acquaintances who we shared at the pool hall, and for the most part, they left us to our game of pocket billiards.  We started playing pool together at a time in the history of pool when there was mystery and excitement that could show up at any time of the day or night.  It was before cell phones became common use.  Often, we would be playing pool, and a stranger would arrive in the pool room, looking for action.  Most of the time the stranger was known to only a small number of people, sometimes only one person or no one.  The stranger would sometimes be a road player looking for action and they came to the Sport Palace from all cities in America.  

Earl Heisler and Louie Knott were the owners of the Sport Palace at that time.  James Leone would come along a little later on and would add even more excitement to that amazing pool room.  Old man Pete would regularly boil in season, select seafood and I mean select.  Pete would be one of the first people to boil crawfish for the new season and I marveled at just how select he was when it came to crawfish.  He had a stainless-steel ramp about 3 feet tall and would carefully open the sack of crawfish so as not to damage them.  Pete would allow the crawfish to walk down the stainless-steel ramp.  If any of them couldn't at least wiggle their legs, he would remove them.  I forget the prices, but they were always reasonable and many people who didn't play pool would stop in to purchase Pete's Select Seafood.  There was no advertisement except by word of mouth but that didn't stop them from selling out every single crawfish.  The seafood that I liked the most was the genuine Number 1 Male Crabs.  This was back in the day when the crabbers didn't send their Number 1 crabs up North to well-to-do clients.  They were packed with rich, succulent white meat.  3 of those large male crabs would make a meal for the hungriest pool players and that was their target audience.   I never learned Pete's secret recipe for boiling seafood, but he took pride in his work, and I was happy to be one of their many customers.  On Friday evenings after work, the pool room would fill with customers, looking for a good meal, some pool action or perhaps a card game, which was shrouded in secrecy. 

The card room was off to the side and a large Charter was mounted to the wall.  The Charter was called The Red Rose Social Club and stated that you had to be a member to enter the card room.  I was never much of a card player, but my inquisitive nature got the best of me and after about a year of hanging out, I asked another attorney, Jim the Lawyer, how did one become a member of The Red Rose Social Club.  Jim was a talented card player, but he seldom played any pool.  Jim Durio was his name and he being a Cajun, enjoyed sharing a little humor.  He told me that you had to be invited to join the private club, and I asked him how I could be invited to become a member, and he said with a twinkle in his eye, that he might be able to help out, but only if I knew how to play cards.  That meant that I had to gamble at cards, not just know how to play cards.  After a while, I just slipped back into the pool room and quickly learned which card sharps to stay away from as well as the recreational card players who just wanted to have a good time playing cards for money.  I learned later on that The Red Rose Social Club was something that was started before integration and it was meant to keep out the colored people.  I always thought that was rather strange, since many colored people played pool at the Sport Palace like the infamous Eddie Brown, Chicken Joe, Big Willie and others, yet they weren't welcomed into the Red Rose Social Club, but times were a changin' and that's another story for another time.

Mike and I usually played 9 ball a rotation pool game, where you had to shoot and hit the lowest numbered ball on the table each shot.  We took turns as to who was winning based upon who was in stroke at that time.  Mike purchased one of the first Mike Bender Cues and it was classic beauty, black and white.  Mike Bender was an elite cue maker and if you have a mind to, check out some of his incredible creations or order a cue from him.  After seeing the precision and artistry that went into a Mike Bender cue, I decided to order one for myself, but I wanted it to be a tribute to the POW's and MIA's, a reminder of those who were prisoners and those who never came home.  While in the Marine Corps, I served in combat in Vietnam in 1970, and my service instilled a lot of respect for all servicemen and women who put their lives on the line for our country.  My friendship with Mr. Jim, a POW of the Japanese for TWO YEARS during World War II was an inspiration for my cue.  He was used as slave labor, tortured, and ultimately used as a test subject for dangerous medical experiments.  Jim didn't come right out and tell me what had happened to him but as he learned that I too had seen the horrors of war, he from time to time would share his terrible tale.  I learned many years later that Mr. Jim told me the entire truth about everything that had happened to him at the hands of the Japanese but that too is a story for another time.  So, I designed a POW-MIA cue with Mike Bender and his wife.  This is a photo of the cue stick and the case that was built by Jack Justis.

The POW-MIA cue was the first tribute cue ever built, and Mike Bender and his wife did an incredible job bringing my dream to reality.  I provided the POW-MIA artwork for Mike to use in the cue's creation and I often wondered if I would ever see the finished cue (young people are so impatient).  Finally, after a 2 1/2 year wait, I received a cue that I would love and respect for a lifetime.

After a few years of playing pool with Mike Silvers, he asked me a question.  He asked, "What do you want to get out of pool?"  I was set back a bit with the question but blurted out that I wanted to get better at pool.  This was before the days of YouTube videos, or websites designed for pool instruction.  Sure, there were a few 8 track tapes with videos of top players like my friend, The Professor, Grady Mathews but for the most part, you learned how to play pool by watching other top players and hoping to pick up a technique or two.  During that period, it was common practice that if you wanted to learn how to play pool, you had to gamble with the better players.  They would often offer a spot or handicap to the lessor player, but you had to hope you would learn something for your money because it wasn't likely that you would win even with the handicap.  The latter part hasn't changed even today.  I have always been a mercenary of sorts when it came to gambling at pool, but kept my gambling in check, not losing any more than I could afford to lose.  I probably won more money than I lost over the years, but I was always careful about letting other gamblers see how well I could play.  Mike had picked up on one of my tricks that I employed and said, "Well Joey, if you want to learn how to play better pool, you had better stop worrying about who comes through the pool room doors and just work on improving my game?  He explained that he had noticed that when one of my prospective customers would enter the pool room, my level of play would go down faster than a mudslide and he was right.  It was one of my ploys and used by many who gamble at pool.  So, it was Mike Silvers who got me on the right track and helped me to move from a "hustler" to a student of the game.  I have him to thank for these many years of pleasure, in learning how to be a better pool player and even to eventually become a better teacher/coach of pool.  After decades of learning how to play pool, I now receive great enjoyment helping others to enjoy the game of pool by teaching them new techniques and developing new skills.

Michael, this journey has been incredible, and I'm deeply grateful for your companionship along the way. Thank you for being a part of it.

JoeyA

 

                The Fishing Camp - Port Sulphur, Louisiana  Happy Jack

Fishing became an important part of my life many years ago, probably starting with my brother-in-law, Shelby Laborde.  He really introduced me to fishing and hunting, him being a bona fide Cajun Man of extraordinary talents.

Probably more than a decade after living in Jackson, Mississippi, we moved back to New Orleans (actually Metairie, Louisiana). We took up with another genuine American hero, "Mr. Jim", a POW of the Japanese for over two years who endured hardships, torture, and things too brutal to mention in detail here.  Mr. Jim took me under his wing and taught me about saltwater fishing and we had great times together.  I had just gotten back from Vietnam; ten years had passed.  It was 1981 and I was still trying to find my way back into society and I met this man who endured and saw far more than I did in my combat in South Vietnam as a Marine.  Jim taught me how to trawl for shrimp and used the shrimp for bait to catch redfish and speckled trout.  We caught a lot of fish together and Mr. Jim passed on some years later but that's not what this story is about.

I was working at Duplex Products, a large business forms manufacturer who had bought out Lewis Business Forms around this time, and Candy (my wife) and I had moved back to Metairie to live.  Things went well for several years, with me keeping the business that I had developed in Jackson, Mississippi while adding new business in the Greater New Orleans area.  The business forms industry had matured and while I was earning a great income as a commission salesman, the industry was taking hits from competition.  The digital age was just around the corner and computers were becoming everyday equipment not just for the big companies but the smaller companies as well.

Since my income was based entirely upon my ability to sell at a profitable level, I hustled hard, developing relationships that would last many decades.  I am ever so thankful for all of those customers who gave this young Marine a chance to serve them.  Marines and other military men and women coming back from Vietnam at that time weren't always openly treated well but I have to say that my small circle of people seemed to welcome me back into the world.  I worked hard, gave my best and customers seemed to like that so I continued making decent money, thinking that it would never end. 

After several years working under the giant umbrella of a company that had over 200 million dollars in annual sales, the bean counters (accountants) were asked by the stock holders as to why their dividend profits were falling.  The bean counters said that expenses were high with salesmen making lots of money and the only way to increase dividends was to get rid of all those salesmen making those big bucks.  They (the company) started up north in Illinois and worked their way across the country and eventually headed South to Louisiana.  I knew that the "hatchet man" was headed my way almost a year in advance.  Eventually, he made his way to Louisiana, and I was issued a Pink Slip.  The reason on the pink slip for my dismissal was "failing to fill out call sales reports".  At that time, I was the most successful salesman in our region, and I always sold more than my draw, which meant I got extra checks for my commissioned sales about and beyond what I had to cover for my "draw".  I had talked with my customers over that year and told them what was happening, and I asked them if I could provide them with the same quality products at the same prices, with the same service, would they come with me?  Every single one of those customers said yes. 

It was a Friday afternoon and the regional sales manager, a man name Bill Minnie or Minney came in and had me sign the pink slip.  I was guilty of failing to fill out call sales report forms because I knew they wanted to know the specific person I was calling on at each account and I guessed that they would have a tougher time, trying to take the business from me that I had earned over those many years especially if I withheld the names of the individuals that I had developed relationships with.  I figured if that was the best excuse they could come up with, it was fine with me.

The weekend was not all ice cream and apple pie.  My whole world was coming down.  I had worked for this company for since 1968 and now they were just getting rid of me like an old pair of shoes.  I was 36 years of age with little savings, but I had amassed $50,000.00 in my profit-sharing retirement trust fund.  On Monday morning I went to a local bank with my retirement fund documentation and asked for a loan of $50,000.00 to handle the cash flow of business that I hoped to hold on to.  I agreed to pay off the loan when my retirement fund had been sent to me.  I knew my company wouldn't be in a hurry to give me the $50,000.00 but I told the bank it would be 90 days.  In actuality, it should have only taken a few days to move the money, but I knew the company would drag its feet.  I had to be able to cover the sales during the time my factories invoiced me and the time my customers would pay me and I didn't want any problems.  The bank asked me about my business plan, and I had it all in my head and answered each question with conviction, and got the loan.  I knew this wasn't the best financial plan because taking money out of your 401K or retirement account almost never works.  This time, with a tight control over accounts payable and accounts receivable and thanks to my many good customers, it worked.

It was a difficult time for me personally, with the responsibility of the world on my shoulders or so it felt.  My wife was working for another company at the time, so we had health insurance through her company and while we had a young son, I felt more pressure than ever to succeed.  The Marines had taught me a lot about self-discipline and I went on a tear, working harder than ever before.  It wasn't uncommon to work 18 hours a day.  Some nights I would wake up in the middle of the night realizing I had another order from a customer that I needed to process.  This went on for several months until I had secured all of the business which I had earned over those many decades.  My old company Duplex Products tried to hire young college graduates to replace me and the other salesman but the bean counter's idea backfired and created a new wave of competition they had never dreamed of.  This miscalculation by the stockholders and bean counters resulted in this two-hundred-million-dollar company going out of business within two years of my dismissal.  All of my customers came with me and stayed with me for decades and I am forever grateful, especially to one of my best friends and customers, Jerry Powell.

During that time, I was still trying to balance being a small businessman and enjoying the fruits of my labor, when I started looking at purchasing a fishing camp in Port Sulphur, Louisiana.  I had fished very little in this area, but I had my eye on a section called Happy Jack and started researching the area, talking with anyone who would give me two words of advice.  I didn't know much about Happy Jack, except the camps on Martin Lane which was the Happy Jack area could be driven to instead of going to the camp by boat.  I was a one-man show, so I didn't want to get a camp where I had to drive my boat to the camp.  I searched for months, even calling the Assessor's Office to inquire about who owned which camps and which lots.  There was a small gray-blue camp that caught my eye, and my inquiries indicated that the camp had been for sale for quite some time but with no sale.  I finally contacted the owner.  His name was Mr. Langhof and when I talked with him, I just asked questions about the camp, the area, how long he had the camp for sale, and why he was selling it.  Mr. Langhof was very patient with me and answered all of my questions.  He told me how much he had been asking for the property, and it was over the budget that my wife and I had set.  I told him that I would discuss the property with my wife and get back to him. 

Weeks passed as I strained to figure out how I could justify purchasing this small but sturdy fishing camp that I could not afford to buy.  By this time, my wife and I had already developed a financial way of living in which we abstained from borrowing money.  If we didn't have the money, we just did without.  That was the way we lived our entire life.  From time to time, we had a car note but ended that as quickly as we started.  The house note was something we couldn't avoid so that was that.  But here we were, looking for a fishing camp, and couldn't find anything in our price range.  After much thought, I made the phone call to Mr. Langhof and told him that my wife and I were interested in purchasing the camp, but we couldn't afford the price that he was asking.  He stopped me right there in our phone conversation, and asked if I would be available to meet him and his wife at the camp on Saturday morning.  I stammered that we still hadn't agreed on a price we could afford and he said, "Bring your wife to the camp on Saturday and you're going to buy a fine fishing camp."  I reluctantly said OK, not knowing if he was just a great salesman, a great guy or just trying to get me to the table. 

After discussing it with my wife, we decided to the penny just how much we could afford to pay and drove down that Saturday morning.  Mr. Langhof must have been in his late 60's or possibly early 70's at this time and when we arrived Mr. Langhof was there with his wife. Candy and I introduced ourselves and sat down to discuss this very tough question.  Mr. Langhof had asked me if I "really" enjoyed fishing, and I said I did.  He then asked me how much I was going to offer him.  Since my wife and I had discussed this in detail I told him the amount which was substantially less than what he was asking.  I told him that my wife and I could not afford one penny more than what we were offering, and it was true.  I offered him the most money that we could afford.  He looked over at his wife and got "the nod" and he turned to me and said, "Well you've got yourself a camp."  My heart was beating fast, and I looked at my wife with amazement because I wasn't expecting to buy the camp that day.  I thought he was going to try and get me to raise my price but he didn't.

I'll always remember his kindness and how he required my wife be at the meeting to discuss the sale of the camp.  I knew he was a family man as was I and was just so thankful as we had some of the best years in that camp.  Lots of great memories with my son and extended family at that camp.  Hurricane Katrina eventually tore the camp to hell, and I worked to resurrect it but just got tired of working on the camp.  My good friend Paul Laplace who was a master carpenter helped me to raise and rebuild the camp and sold it shortly after that to a friend, Richard Sharp.
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Thank you Mr. Langhof, you made a young couple happy and helped to provide us with many years of outdoor pleasure.

Posted 21st June 2016 by JoeyA Pool Commentator

 

LAZARUS

Lazarus as some of us know, was the guy who was a friend of Jesus Christ and that when Lazarus died, Jesus went to his tomb, said a prayer and raised him from the dead. 

Now that was some kind of miracle but I am going to share another one with you today.

This is the true story of a pool player who by all accounts was done...kaput.  The story takes place at Rackateer's Sports Bar in New Orleans, Louisiana in the late 1900's.   The pool room was owned by Gerald Huber, the author of  "The Green Felt Jungle" and "Humphrey" (as the locals liked to call him) had these very large pool tournaments with huge Calcuttas (player auctions) and top players came from all over to play in his events. 

1995 U.S. Open 9 Ball Champion, Reed Pierce and winner of other notable tournaments such as the 1998 Camel Tour Kasson Open, and the 1994 PBT Dallas Open was entered in this tournament.  As I recall there was a full field of 128 players. BTW, Reed was also selected to represent the U.S. twice in the Mosconi Cup, in 1997 and 1998.

I had lived in Jackson, Mississippi from 1974 to 1980 and watched Reed grow into the player he had become and knew he was the real deal.  The hangout back then in Jackson was "The Office" and many a big dollar match was played on those bar tables.

Anyway, Reed is playing one of the top local players, a guy named Eddie Brown and Eddie has Reed's ears pinned back pretty good, leading Reed 8-4 in a race to 9.  At this time the tournament is about 3/4 finished and Reed was a favorite to win the event but is getting spanked by Eddie Brown.  Well Reed goes on a tear, and starts playing like the U.S. Open 9 Ball Champion that he is and winds up beating Eddie 9-8 for the match.  Reed basking in his strong comeback bellows, "How you like it New Orleans?.....THAT'S WHAT YOU CALL SEASONING!"   It was an exclamation that might have been made by anyone coming back from such a large deficit.  Well, that boast didn't sit too well with a lot of New Orleanians, but it was a hell of a come-back by Reed so you just have to sit there and let the champ have his moment.

The very next match Reed has a match with top veteran pool player by the name of Joe Villalpando.  Joe lived down in New Orleans for several years at this time and was one of our own by then.  Reed is stoked from his previous come-back win and is playing with confidence and bearing down on Joe V (yeah, that's what we called him down in New Orleans, other places called him Little Joe and probably a few other nicknames here and there).  Reed is now playing hard and has Joe V stuck 8 games to 3 games in a race to 9.  With Reed needing only 1 game for the match win, it wasn't looking very good for Joe V.

Joe V was a pal of mine and he and I used to hit the local tournament scene quite often.  We would  play in as many as 3 tournaments a week back then.  I would be Joe's chauffeur, confidant, and student, learning the ways of the pool world.  While I would do the driving, I also played in the tournaments just not as well as Joe but I was learning all of the time.

So back to the story.  Joe is standing next to me watching Reed playing like the champion that he was, giving Joe very little opportunity to get back to the table and Reed is up 8-3. 

Well Reed misses and leaves JoeV a few balls to run. Joe cleans up the table and makes the score 4-8 JoeV.

While I am not a tall guy, but Joe is REALLY SHORT and he is looking up at me and he says, "You know Joey, one time way back when, I was playing this real good player, and he had me stuck just like this and I came back to win the match."  By this time, Joe had to be in his 60's and Reed could easily have still been in his twenties.

I immediately locked on Joe's eyes (hoping to put my two years of psychology & hypnosis therapy to work) and said, "Joe, I KNOW that if anyone has a chance of doing this, YOU DO. Let's see what's going to happen!" 

The next game JoeV makes the nine on the break, now 5-8 JoeV.  The next game he breaks runs to the four ball and makes a 4-9 combo making it 6-8 Joe V. The pool room was full of electricity. I could feel it in the air through the high humidity that Louisiana pool rooms are known for.  The electricity was palpable, but it was the humidity that was making it difficult to make a ball on the break or even run out.  The electrical feeling was all over me and I wasn't even playing. The next game, Joe breaks and runs out the rack making it 7-8 JoeV. The swagger had suddenly left Reid as he realized that there was a chance that he might lose this match.  JoeV is wound up like a little short spring, shooting at everything and making almost every ball he shoots at.  Again, Joe doesn't make a ball on the break.  Reed comes to the table and again has a very tough out and can't get there so tries to lock JoeV up with a good safety which turned out to be a mediocre safety and Joe kicks the object ball in and ties the match up hill-hill (8-8) racing to 9.  Now the electricity has redoubled and everyone is in dead sweat, everyone's eyes are glazing, everyone's perspiring and the tables are soaking wet.  The players are soaked with the humidity and constantly wiping their cues down with dry towels.  The sweaters are perspiring but no one is leaving this match. I can't remember how the last match went except the last 4 balls that Joe made were excruciating for me. LOL

As the winning nine ball fell in the hole, I could not contain myself and yelled as loud as I could, "HOW YA LIKE IT MISSISSIPPI!"  The crowd went nuts.  My yell was a reflex, and I couldn't help myself. Even though Reed and I have always been cool with one another, he came unglued and started screaming and yelling that he wanted to play me for two thousand dollars and give me the 7 ball or for whatever I could come up with, and he said a few choice other words that sometimes happens when the rug is pulled out from under your feet but there was no amount of money that I could have won that day that could have taken the place of the feeling that I had when my buddy JoeV stopped Reed in his tracks. Reed had always been a MUCH better player than me or even JoeV, for that matter, but not THAT DAY.  It wasn't that I was happy that Reed lost. I was just so jazzed with what had just happened to my buddy JoeV that I couldn't hold it in. It was that day when JoeV earned the nickname "LAZARUS"for a come-back victory of extraordinary proportions. 


GET SOME, JOE V!  Ooo-rahhhhhhhh!  Happy Birthday my friend.

JoeyA
New Orleans

Posted 21st September 2016