Fred Agnir
05-20-2003, 06:52 AM
Well, for those that have never seen it, I guess going to the BCA Nationals is worth the price of admission just to catch one session of the Bobby Pickle show. For newbies or those who missed last year's version, read here:
http://www.playpool.com/article.php?sid=145
This year's story revolves around the game of last pocket 8-ball. Now, I can hear some of you saying it now, as some were saying it next to me there. "I love playing last pocket. It's a great strategic game." Blah blah. I realize it is, but the reality is that most players have never seen a last pocket match between A-players. It's just a different game altogether. And this match didn't disappoint.
Anyway, it's about 1:00 AM on Saturday, and I catch Bobby Pickle playing same Latino guy (Louis) race to 5, last pocket 8-ball, 5 beans. The set just gets tied up 2-2. Another Latino guy is looking for a sweat bet, so I took Pickle for cincuenta. Now, Pickle is a strong player, but this Louis looks like a great mover. His stand up style, and the way he moves both balls are reminiscent of how 3C players (who play pool) play. And last pocket ends up being a mover's game if it's not a runout. So, the sweat bet wasn't bad.
Louis didn't say much, and Bobby sure said enough for the both of them. True to form, Bobby was working to his fan club, all the while being extremely polite to his opponent, always calling him, "sir." That must have been pulling at Louis' colon. The two times Louis did speak, it was with great irritation. No matter how stone cold his face was, the Pickle show was getting to him.
The basic rules they were playing were that if one guy got a pocket, the other guy couldn't take that same pocket. If the opponent happened to get his last ball in that same pocket, then the other guy got to pick another pocket for him, so long as it was a corner pocket.
They trade games to 3-3. Bobby keeps going for the out. If he gets there, he wins, if he doesn't, Louis is too good a mover and runs the open table, or works it like one pocket moving the 8-ball away from Bobby's pocket. On the biggest game of the set, Pickle inexplicably goes for this out, knowing that a missed side pocket as the last is doom:
Wei Table (http://endeavor.med.nyu.edu/~wei/pool/9egg/)
START(
%AY8J7%HT1P9%IV6O7%JT4S5%KG6Q6%LR2R7%MS0M8%NI8Y1%O j8U9%P]2R1
%RP8S2%UY6K9%V\6Q4%WP1E4%XY6K5%YE3H2%ZN1D8%[Q2R3%\E2I3%][0D0
%^Z1I3
)END
He made the last ball but got hooked ending at B. Doom. If any of you really have played last pocket, you know that even to the worst of players, you're a huge underdog if you don't get out on the side pocket.
Louis, however doesn't get out (the pressure is getting to him, on this crucial game), but leaves one ball on the table and plays beautiful safeties like this:
START(
%HR4V8%LL3O0%PT0Z5%UD9M5%VK9O7%WM5J9%XL5N1%YL0P2%Z R9Y8%[K7E9
%\D1L0%]d9\9
)END
The appreciative crowd claps approvingly. Bobby gapes with mock shock at the audience. He then puts his stick down and claps wildly and loudly. "Nice shot, sir." He is believable, even in his mocking tone. If there's one thing I learned about Pickle, he does seem genuinely appreciative of good shooting, even if it's at his expense.
But Bobby returned with kicks like this:
START(
%HR4V8%LN2I0%PM1F5%UO3U6%VQ6V0%WT5W0%Xr0O1%YL5Z7%Z S0W4%[r4N5
%\N5F9%]d9\9
)END
... and waited for the due applause. Which came. Big toothy grin from the tall, strawberry blond, McCready-esque southern boy.
These two patterns repeated, until Bobby hung the 8-ball in the corner. Louis safes and leaves Bobby up table. Big smile from Bobby, cuz he stepped up and hit him with this:
START(
%HF1Z0%L\2H5%Pb2Z4%QZ5A6%RH2V7%UC9Z2%VE0Z6%WG4X2%X C2Y1%YE9Z7
%ZG0Z1%[H0Z2%\`3Y8%]D2Z8%^C5Z4%_D6Y7%`E1Y7%aE5Y9
)END
leaving the cueball hung in the jaws, jailed by the 8-ball. He worked for this shot over the period 3 or 4 shots. Absolutely masterful. Scott Frost was in the house. I think he was coaching Bobby.
Louis kicked but scratched. Bobby made the 8-ball in his pocket (A) with ball in hand, reaching the hill. I let out a "yeah, baby." The Latino contingent was not pleased.
Bobby wins the next game for the set, and I make a small bean count. The match was close, and they go again. After all, it was really down to that one game. Same guy wants to sweat again. So I take it again. Now some other guy comes out of the woodwork to bet. And he's looking to go higher than I care. I thought it was too close , so I backed off, but I steered him to other hungry buzzards.
Second set... No contest. Bobby turned it up, break and running the first and the last rack. He may have had three break and runs. It was a different look. The steamroll was on, and took what seemed like 10 minutes. It was just like you read about in the romantic tales of hustlers of yore. The guy on the stall, and turning up the heat in the next set. It was brilliant. So brilliant, he had me out-moved, and I was sweating his action.
I got no jelly roll from the steered action, and I didn't give one to Bobby, though I should have. Unfortunately, I didn't have any small bills. Maybe next year. Besides, the casino needed my money more than he did, and they took it pretty quickly at the Roulette tables. Doh!
Until next year,
Fred
http://www.playpool.com/article.php?sid=145
This year's story revolves around the game of last pocket 8-ball. Now, I can hear some of you saying it now, as some were saying it next to me there. "I love playing last pocket. It's a great strategic game." Blah blah. I realize it is, but the reality is that most players have never seen a last pocket match between A-players. It's just a different game altogether. And this match didn't disappoint.
Anyway, it's about 1:00 AM on Saturday, and I catch Bobby Pickle playing same Latino guy (Louis) race to 5, last pocket 8-ball, 5 beans. The set just gets tied up 2-2. Another Latino guy is looking for a sweat bet, so I took Pickle for cincuenta. Now, Pickle is a strong player, but this Louis looks like a great mover. His stand up style, and the way he moves both balls are reminiscent of how 3C players (who play pool) play. And last pocket ends up being a mover's game if it's not a runout. So, the sweat bet wasn't bad.
Louis didn't say much, and Bobby sure said enough for the both of them. True to form, Bobby was working to his fan club, all the while being extremely polite to his opponent, always calling him, "sir." That must have been pulling at Louis' colon. The two times Louis did speak, it was with great irritation. No matter how stone cold his face was, the Pickle show was getting to him.
The basic rules they were playing were that if one guy got a pocket, the other guy couldn't take that same pocket. If the opponent happened to get his last ball in that same pocket, then the other guy got to pick another pocket for him, so long as it was a corner pocket.
They trade games to 3-3. Bobby keeps going for the out. If he gets there, he wins, if he doesn't, Louis is too good a mover and runs the open table, or works it like one pocket moving the 8-ball away from Bobby's pocket. On the biggest game of the set, Pickle inexplicably goes for this out, knowing that a missed side pocket as the last is doom:
Wei Table (http://endeavor.med.nyu.edu/~wei/pool/9egg/)
START(
%AY8J7%HT1P9%IV6O7%JT4S5%KG6Q6%LR2R7%MS0M8%NI8Y1%O j8U9%P]2R1
%RP8S2%UY6K9%V\6Q4%WP1E4%XY6K5%YE3H2%ZN1D8%[Q2R3%\E2I3%][0D0
%^Z1I3
)END
He made the last ball but got hooked ending at B. Doom. If any of you really have played last pocket, you know that even to the worst of players, you're a huge underdog if you don't get out on the side pocket.
Louis, however doesn't get out (the pressure is getting to him, on this crucial game), but leaves one ball on the table and plays beautiful safeties like this:
START(
%HR4V8%LL3O0%PT0Z5%UD9M5%VK9O7%WM5J9%XL5N1%YL0P2%Z R9Y8%[K7E9
%\D1L0%]d9\9
)END
The appreciative crowd claps approvingly. Bobby gapes with mock shock at the audience. He then puts his stick down and claps wildly and loudly. "Nice shot, sir." He is believable, even in his mocking tone. If there's one thing I learned about Pickle, he does seem genuinely appreciative of good shooting, even if it's at his expense.
But Bobby returned with kicks like this:
START(
%HR4V8%LN2I0%PM1F5%UO3U6%VQ6V0%WT5W0%Xr0O1%YL5Z7%Z S0W4%[r4N5
%\N5F9%]d9\9
)END
... and waited for the due applause. Which came. Big toothy grin from the tall, strawberry blond, McCready-esque southern boy.
These two patterns repeated, until Bobby hung the 8-ball in the corner. Louis safes and leaves Bobby up table. Big smile from Bobby, cuz he stepped up and hit him with this:
START(
%HF1Z0%L\2H5%Pb2Z4%QZ5A6%RH2V7%UC9Z2%VE0Z6%WG4X2%X C2Y1%YE9Z7
%ZG0Z1%[H0Z2%\`3Y8%]D2Z8%^C5Z4%_D6Y7%`E1Y7%aE5Y9
)END
leaving the cueball hung in the jaws, jailed by the 8-ball. He worked for this shot over the period 3 or 4 shots. Absolutely masterful. Scott Frost was in the house. I think he was coaching Bobby.
Louis kicked but scratched. Bobby made the 8-ball in his pocket (A) with ball in hand, reaching the hill. I let out a "yeah, baby." The Latino contingent was not pleased.
Bobby wins the next game for the set, and I make a small bean count. The match was close, and they go again. After all, it was really down to that one game. Same guy wants to sweat again. So I take it again. Now some other guy comes out of the woodwork to bet. And he's looking to go higher than I care. I thought it was too close , so I backed off, but I steered him to other hungry buzzards.
Second set... No contest. Bobby turned it up, break and running the first and the last rack. He may have had three break and runs. It was a different look. The steamroll was on, and took what seemed like 10 minutes. It was just like you read about in the romantic tales of hustlers of yore. The guy on the stall, and turning up the heat in the next set. It was brilliant. So brilliant, he had me out-moved, and I was sweating his action.
I got no jelly roll from the steered action, and I didn't give one to Bobby, though I should have. Unfortunately, I didn't have any small bills. Maybe next year. Besides, the casino needed my money more than he did, and they took it pretty quickly at the Roulette tables. Doh!
Until next year,
Fred