After quitting the game for almost two years, transplanted Venezuelan Jesus Atencio found the purpose and support needed to put his immense talent back on display.



By Mike Panozzo

Jesus Atencio hovers over a shimmery black Diamond table during the International Open in December, surveying a colorful spread of balls. It's just one of 30-plus tables in the massive ballroom, but the tall, slender Venezuelan is hard to miss. He has a presence, one that bends a room's attention the moment he enters. There is a studied precision to everything about him: shoes polished to a quiet gleam, trousers pressed into sharp lines, a shirt chosen with an eye for color and balance. His face is clean-shaven, his nails carefully manicured, and his dark hair gathered into a tidy bun that always looks as though it has just been tied. He carries himself upright, moving with an easy, practiced confidence. Piercing, dark eyes meet fans and foes without hesitation, and when he smiles ‒ flash of white teeth, warm and assured ‒ it feels less like a greeting than a small declaration: Jesus Atencio is exactly where he wants to be right now. Where he needs to be. He's found purpose, and he couldn't be happier.

And that's a dramatic shift from the period in the recent past during which the 27-year-old rising star didn't care if he never picked up a pool cue again.

“I was depressed,” he admits, almost apologetically, thinking back to 2023. “I was trying, but I wasn't seeing results. It was a bad time for me personally, too. I am a positive person. I never stopped dreaming, but at one point I stopped believing in myself.

“I was really sad.”

He was also confused. His mind raced. He talked to himself incessantly.

“Why do you want to stop playing?” he'd ask himself, wondering if another part of his brain might have an answer. “What happened to your dreams?”

And so, he stopped playing.

“I was thinking that maybe pool isn't for me.”

It's a thought Atencio could never imagine in 2018, when armed with his cue, immense natural talent and an almost unquenchable thirst for playing, he said goodbye to his mother Alexandra, his father Evelio and his brother Miguel, left the barrios of Caracas and set off for the Dominican Republic in search of action and riches on the green baize.

“It was all about money games in the Dominican,” he remembers. “But I wanted to play against the best players. I wanted to go to the U.S., but I didn't have the money.”



(Photo by Avonne)

Kismet made its first appearance in Atencio's life right there in Santo Domingo in Kilometro 22, a seedy car wash/bar that had a few pool tables. American action man Oscar Dominguez was in a money game in the same room.

Atencio looked on as Dominguez battled not only his opponent on the table, but backers and bettors as well. They tried to change the game on the Yank, charged him exorbitant table times when he made a score, and attempted numerous sharking tactics.

Atencio was embarrassed to see the respected action player treated like that.

“The people there didn't treat me very well,” Dominguez recalls. “Sketchy stuff. The people were vultures.”

At one point, Atencio made his way over to Dominguez and offered an apology.

“He said, 'Hey, I'm sorry these guys are treating you this way,” Dominguez recalled. “You come all the way here and they're treating you poorly. It's not right.' That told me a lot about the kid.”

Dominguez also got a glimpse of Atencio at the table.

“I thought, damn, this kid is a monster. He was quiet, but I could tell he had a ton of talent.”

At one point, Dominguez pulled Atencio aside and asked him about his plans. Like most wide-eyed hot shot young players, Atencio said he wanted to become a champion.

“What do I need to do?” he asked the veteran player.

“Do you want to know the truth?” Dominguez asked bluntly.

Dominguez, as is his style, pulled no punches.

“Get the hell out of this place,” he said. “If you stay here, you're going to rot.”

Atencio shared with Dominguez his desire to play in the U.S. And when Atencio mentioned that his father was a U.S. citizen and he already possessed a visa, Dominguez immediately pulled out his phone and called well known stakehorse/manager Carlo Sanchez in Houston. Sanchez has a wealth of knowledge in the action community and is never at a loss for finding places and players where he can make a score. He had heard about Atencio and agreed to set him up in Houston.

In less than an hour, Atencio had gone from striking up a polite conversation to having a plane ticket to the Land of Opportunity and money behind him.

Atencio's eyes welled up, and he wrapped his arms around his new American friend.

Using Houston as a base, Atencio spent the first year mostly on the road, with Sanchez making games for his young horse. Atencio made frequent trips between Venezuela and the States, until he was warned by immigration officers in 2019 that he couldn't continue to spend so much time in the U.S. as a non-citizen. Set on making the U.S. his home, Atencio decided to stay in the Charlotte area with an aunt and immediately began work on immigration status. He also urged his mother, a teacher in Caracas, to join him.

“It's a better life here,” he said. “The economy is bad in my country. If you have a regular job, you make $20 a month. And it's not safe. You can't go outside and use your phone or wear jewelry or watches or even expensive clothes.”



With a family in his corner, Atencio insists his focus is dialed in today.

It was a leap of faith for Alexandra, who spoke not a word of English and was ill-prepared for dramatic changes in both culture and climate.

“She thought it was different and nice,” Jesus says. “She was really worried about the language. I'm young, so it's easy for me. But for older people it's much scarier.”

After six months, Alexandra knew she'd made the right decision. She called Caracas to tell Evelio that she was staying in Charlotte. Three months later, Evelio and Miguel joined them. Now Jesus' mother goes to language classes and works in day care. Evelio works in a local furniture company and Miguel has his hands in a number of jobs ‒ car detailing and driving for Door Dash and Amazon. The family was together again, living in a rented house in Monroe, N.C.

“They've accepted that this is home,” Jesus acknowledges, adding, “They never told me, but I think they came here mostly to support me and my career. They saw I was doing good things here.”

But it turned out that Atencio's “career” wasn't going to come easily. The dearth of opportunities to play during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 slowed his progress. And 2021 was spent mostly popping into regional events, although his third-place finish at the Big Tyme Classic 9-ball event in Texas behind Dennis Orcollo and his idol, Shane Van Boening, offered a glimpse of his vast potential. He finished 65th at the U.S. Open.

It was more of the same in 2022, with solid regional showings bolstered by a 33rd-place finish at the U.S. Open, 17th in the International 9-Ball Open and a stunning third at the Predator Pro Billiard Series Puerto Rico 10-Ball Open.

The following year began Atencio's disenchantment with the game. Poor performances early in the year and personal issues that he's still reticent to discuss reached a head and he pulled away from the game.

Atencio played sporadically, but mostly stayed in Monroe, working as a driver for a local last-mile delivery service called VEHO during the day and for a cleaning company in the evenings, cleaning at banks and insurance offices.

Then, in November 2023, what initially felt like one of the worst decisions of his life resulted in a life-changing chance meeting.

Bored and needing a break, Atencio decided to enter the PBS Puerto Rico 10-Ball Open again. He's comfortable in Puerto Rico, which he says reminds him of Venezuela, and has friends there. And he had placed well in the event the previous year.


But he once again struggled, finishing in a tie for 33rd in the 128-player international field. His performance did nothing to rekindle his fire for the game.

On the last day of the event, Atencio sat the stands at the Puerto Rico Convention Center, watching the World Teams final between Germany and Chinese Taipei, and commiserating with his close friend and Puerto Rico native Joel Omar.

“I said, 'I think this is not for me,'” he remembers. “I told him that I wasn't ready to play and that playing in that event was a bad decision. I need time to sort out my life.”

Little did he know, his life was just moments from “getting sorted.”

While they chatted, a young woman with a pleasant smile and long brown hair stopped to say hello to Omar, whom she already knew. She wasn't a player or groupie. She was just there to watch the matches.

Atencio noticed her right away. And while Omar and the woman chatted, Atencio sat at alert, waiting for Omar to introduce them. Of course, he didn't, and she bid Omar farewell and walked away.

Somewhat stunned, Atenico asked Omar who the woman was.

“Her name's Patricia Mendoza,” Omar said.

The smitten Atencio was insistent upon being introduced. So, when Patricia once again passed by, Omar introduced them, saying, “This is my friend, Jesus. He's a professional pool player.”

Jesus and Patricia started to talk. And talk. And talk. In fact, they talked through the night and into the morning. Atencio, who was scheduled to fly back to the States at 4:00 a.m., called to change his flight, tacking three days onto his trip. They were together every day, all day. Three days later, Atencio changed his flight again. And again.

In all, Atencio changed his flight four times and ended up staying in San Juan for a month.

“I was in a bad place when I met her,” he says now. “She changed everything.”

With Patricia, who had a good job with a medical insurance company in San Juan, Jesus could talk about anything and everything ‒ his life, personal insights, his career. When she asked why he wanted to stop playing, Jesus told her he just wasn't ready and felt the need to do something different to create his own space outside of pool. She was supportive of anything he felt he needed to do.

After Atencio returned to Monroe, the two talked virtually every day. Remembering a conversation in which he told her that New York City was his favorite place, Patricia even suggested they meet there for his birthday in June, her treat.

“I thought that was a little weird,” Atencio laughs. “I don't remember any of my girlfriends ever giving me anything.”

The idea got even stranger when Patricia called in late January, saying that a work conflict would prevent her from making the June date and suggested they go to New York earlier ‒ for Valentine's Day, perhaps.

Atencio jumped at the opportunity to see Patricia sooner, and they met in Manhattan. Once at the hotel, Patricia surprised Jesus with a gift.

“She gave me a box,” he recalls. “It was filled with chocolate and confetti. And at the bottom of the box was a pregnancy kit. I just stared at it. Then I said, 'Are you serious?'”

Her tears were affirmation. Jesus was going to be a father.

“It was crazy,” he says. “I started screaming, 'I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to be a dad.' I told her that being a father was very special for me. I always dreamed of having a family. Especially a daughter. In fact, I told her that the baby was going to be a girl. I could feel it.”

Everything changed from that moment. Once again, his mind raced, only this time it was all positive feelings. There were decisions to be made, a future to be thought about. Responsibilities.


Players like Dominguez marvel at Atencio's talent level.

“I was worried about making money,” he says. “Playing pool is hard. There's no security. You pay for plane tickets and hotels and entry fees, and then you get beat twice and you're done. I thought, no, I need to work real jobs.”

For the next seven months Atencio worked incessantly, taking on any and all jobs. He went back to cleaning the banks at night. Proud of his newfound talent for “driving like an American,” he drove for Uber, Door Dash, Amazon. And when time permitted, he flew back and forth between Charlotte and San Juan, where Patricia was still living because of her job security.

Then, on September 10, Patricia called, saying they were taking her to the hospital. Apparently, their baby daughter decided to join them a month earlier than originally planned. Atencio jumped on the first flight he could find but missed his connection in Orlando. By the time he arrived at the Hospital Auxilio Mutuo in San Juan later that night, Micaela Isabelle Atencio Mendoza, was waiting for him.

And when Jesus swept Micaela into his arms for the very first time, he looked into her big, brown eyes and said, “I'm going to play pool.”

“I don't know how it happened,” he admits. “It was the first thing that came out of my mouth. My wife asked why I said that. I told her, now I have something to play for. I want to do everything for her. Now I can't think only about myself. I felt like pool was my best chance. I suddenly felt like God had put in my hands something that I can be the best at. Pool is my gift.”

Ironically, the very first event Atencio played after becoming a father was once again at the PBS Puerto Rico Open. Patricia and Micaela, still living in San Juan, were there. And, for the first time he could remember, Jesus was a nervous wreck, paralyzed by new expectations he put on himself to be the winner and provider he'd promised his daughter he would be.


Atencio got his first major WNT invite at the PLP in Florida.

“I was shaking so bad in the parking lot that I didn't want to go in,” Atencio admits. “She told me to go in and just play.”

“This is what you want,” she said. “You look happy when you're playing pool. Let's go together.”

And so, the new Family Atencio rolled into the convention center and Jesus played his heart out. He reached the final 16, before losing a pair of hill-hill sets to Aloysius Yapp. Jesus was disappointed. Patricia was ecstatic.

“You played great and looked happy,” she gushed.

Atencio immediately stopped working side jobs and spent virtually every day practicing on the Diamond table in his family's home.

“This is just the beginning,” he promised.

Through most of 2025, Patricia and Micaela remained in Puerto Rico while Jesus focused on becoming the world class player he'd always dreamed of becoming.

And, boy, did Atencio deliver. Employing his big break, solid mechanics and fluid rhythm, Atencio played in 11 tournaments and finished out of the top 10 just twice. He also teamed with women's legend Allison Fisher to win the PBS Jacksonville Mixed Doubles Open to close out the year.

In amassing an impressive $66,000 in prize money for the year, Atencio claimed his first WNT regional title at the River City Open in Jacksonville and finished fifth at the International 9-Ball Open, ninth at the WNT Florida Open and 17 at the WNT U.S. Open Pool Championship in Atlantic City.

The Florida Open was significant because it was the first time he saw Patricia and Micaela in almost seven months. Despite holding a U.S. visa, Atencio is still a Venezuelan citizen, and the U.S.'s aggressive stance on the South American country in 2026 makes his leaving the country and trying to re-enter dangerously uncertain. Even a trip to Puerto Rico, a U.S. territory, was deemed not worth the risk.

With Patricia and Micaela, along with Atencio's parents, in attendance in Orlando, Jesus topped World No. 1 Fedor Gorst and U.S. legend Earl Strickland. He followed with a win over Spain's great Francisco Sanchez-Ruiz at the U.S. Open. His playing flair and style even earned him a few spots in the Matchroom TV arena. Following that event, Patricia told Jesus she was ready to move to North Carolina with Micaela (which they did in December) to become his wife.

“She told me I had an amazing talent and that she wants to help me make my dreams happen,” Atencio says. Additionally, with Patrica being a U.S. citizen, Atencio's chances of getting a green card ‒ which would allow him to travel stress free ‒ would be exponentially greater.

And good things continued to happen for the likeable young star in '25, starting with his introduction to Jason Weir in Las Vegas during the U.S. Open events at Griff's in March. Weir, a Palm Springs, Calif., entrepreneur and close friend of Shane Van Boening, liked what he saw in Atencio ‒ his meticulous appearance and the manner in which he carried himself.

Intrigued, Weir spent more time with Atencio, talking about his dreams and his sponsors and his financial approach. Like most players, Atencio had high hopes, but was lacking in business arrangements and liquidity.

“He said it was a bit of a struggle,” Weir recalls. “I told him maybe we could work on that. I liked what I saw in him. I like the way he conducts himself, his appearance, the way he treats people. He always shows respect for the people around him. As far as potential sponsors go, I knew I could put him in front of any corporation and wouldn't have to worry about what kind of impression he made.”

The first thing Weir did, however, was consult with Van Boening, who said he thought Atencio had loads of talent but that he didn't really know him well. So, Weir asked his friend to spend a few hours on the table with Atencio and report back.

“I got to practice with Shane for, like, three hours,” Atencio says, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “That's one of the best moments in my life. Shane has always been my idol. He said he wanted to help me because he said I deserve it.”

Weir, a former golf professional who also represented several pro golfers, discussed a plan with Atencio and signed him to two contracts. The first was a sponsorship deal with Luxe, Weir's luxury golf cart company. The second was a management contract, with Weir's personal fee being zero. One month later, Weir managed to land Atencio a coveted spot in the Cuetec stable.

“We have a great relationship,” Atencio says of Weir. “Jason is more than a manager or agent. He's a great friend. He doesn't have to help me, but he is. And it makes everything so much easier. Now, I'm more relaxed and I can have fun without extra pressure.”


Patricia and Micaela have given Jesus the inspiration he’s needed. (Photo by Avonne)

“We figured out how much it would take for him to be out there for a year ‒ travel, hotels, entry fee, etc.” Weir says. “We managed to get him that total in cash, signing nine sponsors in 90 days. And we got that with how he carries himself and how he's performed.”

“And he's very picky, which I like,” Weir continues. “He's said no to a lot of companies that offered him sponsorships. He's not just about money. He's about his image and appearance. That's what I grew up with around golf. He's that way and I can represent someone like that.”

And no discussion about Atencio's appearance goes very far without drawing attention to his distinctive hair style ‒ jet black, tightly shaved on the sides, with long straight hair pulled back so tightly from his forehead that it must raise his eyebrows, knotted into a bun in the back.

Not surprisingly, Atencio is frequently asked about his style and the bun.

“My hair is a promise,” he insists, adding even more intrigue. “And I can't tell you what the promise is. It's about my country. Before I left Venezuela in 2018, I sat with my grandmother and made a promise. She doesn't even know about it. But if I win a big title I will go back to Venezuela and then I'll cut my hair. He hesitates for a second.

“But people know who I am because of my hair,” he adds. “Now, I feel like if I cut my hair I'll lose something.”

And almost no one has seen Atencio with his hair down. Not even road roommates.

“It's like respect for myself,” he says.

Today, with his family in place and a sense of security and protection, Atencio is ready to charge into the future. He's working with an immigration attorney in Florida and has high hopes that he will secure a green card in 2026, which will allow him to travel internationally. Until then, he's fortunate that the game's top promoters ‒ Matchroom and Predator ‒ have loaded the U.S. calendar with major events in '26.

All the results of a confluence of chance meetings and opportunistic decisions of lottery-winning good fortune.

“Right now, I'm in the right place with the right people around me,” he says. “I'm in the best moment of my life right now. I'm happy and I don't ever want to stop playing.

“If someone asks me what they need to do to get to the top,” he adds, “I can tell them, 'Don't stop dreaming. It's free. You can always go back to your dreams. And you always make new ones.'”

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