Tush Hog's re-visited !

[SJDinPHX]

I don't think anyone has not met his share of tough guy's. In every big city and small town, you hear the stories of "the baddest MF'ers in the world". Everybody knows one.

Like Freddies Sugar Shack Novak, and the guys in Dallas and Houston, Charlie Boyd, R.D, Geo. Mc Gann, Billy T Dyer, and others. They all had one thing in common...they had "no fear". And as soon as you met them, you could tell, most of the things you heard about them were true.

Some were just plain psychos, and some just placed no value on life. (theirs or other's)

I would like to tell a story about a guy, long gone now... All the old crew around town will remember him. His name was Ray Magaloo. He was half Filipino, half Hawiian. Well liked, friendly and outgoing...not a big guy, but real wiry.

He owned a bar in the roughest part of Phoenix, near the dog track. He was not a "tush hog" per say...but he took no s**t, from no man or beast. All the other tushes in town, seemed to give Ray a wide berth...No one got out of line in Ray's joint.

Ray would bet on anything. He was often one of my stake horses, when things got too high for me... All he ever said was, "How much should I bring" He would then triple the amount, and dump a brief case full of C-notes on the table, and every nickel played.

Ray had a beautiful wife, who ran the bar with him. She started fooling around on him. He got wind of it and tracked her to a motel, and caught her in the act. He beat the guy within an inch of his life, with his wife trying to pull him off...He then lit a cigar, and started torturing the guy by burning his genital's...The wife is pleading with him to stop, and according to court documents, Ray said, "You'll have to kill me, to stop me...here, go ahead"...Whereupon he handed her his 45 automatic, and she shot him right between the eyes.

He had once told me, after an altercation with some other tough guys, when I commented on his big brass wavo's...He said, "Dick, sometimes life is dearer than others".

That is the mindset of people like that....Ray was 34 when he died. His wife was aquitted, and married the guy with the scarred pee-pee. They ran the bar for another ten years afterward.

Moral of the story...Lots of guys are tough, NONE are bullet proof...At least not point blank, between the eyes.

[Clare]

I don't think anyone has not met his share of tough guy's. In every big city and small town, you hear the stories of "the baddest MF'ers in the world". Everybody knows one.

Like Freddies Sugar Shack Novak, and the guys in Dallas and Houston, Charlie Boyd, R.D, Geo. Mc Gann, Billy T Dyer, and others. They all had one thing in common...they had "no fear". And as soon as you met them, you could tell, most of the things you heard about them were true.

Some were just plain psychos, and some just placed no value on life. (theirs or other's)

I would like to tell a story about a guy, long gone now... All the old crew around town will remember him. His name was Ray Magaloo. He was half Filipino, half Hawiian. Well liked, friendly and outgoing...not a big guy, but real wiry.

He owned a bar in the roughest part of Phoenix, near the dog track. He was not a "tush hog" per say...but he took no s**t, from no man or beast. All the other tushes in town, seemed to give Ray a wide berth...No one got out of line in Ray's joint.

Ray would bet on anything. He was often one of my stake horses, when things got too high for me... All he ever said was, "How much should I bring" He would then triple the amount, and dump a brief case full of C-notes on the table, and every nickel played.

Ray had a beautiful wife, who ran the bar with him. She started fooling around on him. He got wind of it and tracked her to a motel, and caught her in the act. He beat the guy within an inch of his life, with his wife trying to pull him off...He then lit a cigar, and started torturing the guy by burning his genital's...The wife is pleading with him to stop, and according to court documents, Ray said, "You'll have to kill me, to stop me...here, go ahead"...Whereupon he handed her his 45 automatic, and she shot him right between the eyes.

He had once told me, after an altercation with some other tough guys, when I commented on his big brass wavo's...He said, "Dick, sometimes life is dearer than others".

That is the mindset of people like that....Ray was 34 when he died. His wife was aquitted, and married the guy with the scarred pee-pee. They ran the bar for another ten years afterward.

Moral of the story...Lots of guys are tough, NONE are bullet proof...At least not point blank, between the eyes.

Thanks for the story, Dick. I really enjoyed it--very entertaining. All kidding aside, you SHOULD write that book. (I'll be happy to help with the editing of the spelling and grammar. Not that you need it. LOL)

[petie]

Good story. I have noticed sadly that almost no younger guys, say under 50, even know the term "Tush Hog." There are many other pool terms that when used on the younger crowd bring a blank stare. I find this a little sad because our special inside language is so rich and has always been one of the most charming things about our game.

I feel extremely fortunate to have discovered the origin of the word "Tush Hog" and will share it with all of you in the hopes it will live on and that maybe some of you can verify this origin.

I once did some work for an old farmer friend of mine who had the old-fashioned type of farm where you had some cows, some pigs, some chickens, some vegitables and some crops. He interrupted my work one day to come help him in the barn which I willingly did. After all, Andy Lawrence, would do anything for you and you naturally returned favors. As we walked up to the barn we notice the door was open and he murmered, "Oh, oh the Boar's in the barn." As we entered the barn he pointed to a corner near the door and said authoritatively, "You stay there!" Now, mind you, Andy was over 80 when this occurred. As I took my place in the corner, he picked up a pitch fork and held it point first and low like a lance as he slowly walked to the back of the barn. My view was blocked by a stall so all I could do is see what happened next through my astonished, and I don't mind saying frightened, ears. I heard a bone chilling snort/squeel followed closely by an, "Ugh" from Andy like he had been gut-shot and a clammoring that I found out later was him landing up on the wall and sliding down. The Boar ran past me squeeling out the door and I quickly went to Andy's side to check on him. He had speared the Boar with the pitch fork but the Boar had charged him and knocked him against the wall. He pushed me away as he lifted himself off the floor. "That Boar is tushy, he needs his tushes cut off with the bolt cutter." Andy was from Missouri and "Tush" meant "Tusk" in his part of the country. According to him, a Boar with long tushes gets cocky and unruly and needs to have his tusks trimmed in order to be fit for domestic use.

I have no doubt this was the origin of our term, "Tush Hog." I hope we will preserve our precious lexicon of inside language. There is something fulfilling about being able to communicate in short hand with our friends within the society of pool players.

[fred bentivegna]

Good story. I have noticed sadly that almost no younger guys, say under 50, even know the term "Tush Hog." There are many other pool terms that when used on the younger crowd bring a blank stare. I find this a little sad because our special inside language is so rich and has always been one of the most charming things about our game.

I feel extremely fortunate to have discovered the origin of the word "Tush Hog" and will share it with all of you in the hopes it will live on and that maybe some of you can verify this origin.

I once did some work for an old farmer friend of mine who had the old-fashioned type of farm where you had some cows, some pigs, some chickens, some vegitables and some crops. He interrupted my work one day to come help him in the barn which I willingly did. After all, Andy Lawrence, would do anything for you and you naturally returned favors. As we walked up to the barn we notice the door was open and he murmered, "Oh, oh the Boar's in the barn." As we entered the barn he pointed to a corner near the door and said authoritatively, "You stay there!" Now, mind you, Andy was over 80 when this occurred. As I took my place in the corner, he picked up a pitch fork and held it point first and low like a lance as he slowly walked to the back of the barn. My view was blocked by a stall so all I could do is see what happened next through my astonished, and I don't mind saying frightened, ears. I heard a bone chilling snort/squeel followed closely by an, "Ugh" from Andy like he had been gut-shot and a clammoring that I found out later was him landing up on the wall and sliding down. The Boar ran past me squeeling out the door and I quickly went to Andy's side to check on him. He had speared the Boar with the pitch fork but the Boar had charged him and knocked him against the wall. He pushed me away as he lifted himself off the floor. "That Boar is tushy, he needs his tushes cut off with the bolt cutter." Andy was from Missouri and "Tush" meant "Tusk" in his part of the country. According to him, a Boar with long tushes gets cocky and unruly and needs to have his tusks trimmed in order to be fit for domestic use.

I have no doubt this was the origin of our term, "Tush Hog." I hope we will preserve our precious lexicon of inside language. There is something fulfilling about being able to communicate in short hand with our friends within the society of pool players.


Goddamn it Petie, youre right! My recollection goes back to the 60s when the term was an exclusive right of the country boys in the Chicago pool world. My take (and guess) on it back then, was it originally described an aggressive porker, and was country slang for tusk-hog. Us city boys often speculated on what it really meant. That's what I always thought it meant, but I was never absolutely sure until now. Your explanation warrants an official entry into the underground pool players dictionary.

Beard

[petie]

Thanks for the backup, Fred. You made my day. Mark me up for the purchase of one copy of the Inside Pool Terms book when you write it.

On another subject, it was I who called you around noon one day a month or two ago from Red Shoes and said I had hung out with Harry Sexton and had some great stories about him. I suspect you lost my number or its too late because you already wrote the book; but if its not, email me spetervsaxton@chartermi.net and I'll call you or give you my number so I can tell you about this totally fascinating character who was so good he once ran over 100 balls banking in the last 20 some. He was never known for banking--just 9-ball but was so good none other than Luther Lassiter admitted he stayed away from Detroit just because he knew Harry was so tough. He was larger than life--truly!

[NH Steve]

These stories are great! Thanks for hitting the keyboard for us...

[fred bentivegna]

Thanks for the backup, Fred. You made my day. Mark me up for the purchase of one copy of the Inside Pool Terms book when you write it.

On another subject, it was I who called you around noon one day a month or two ago from Red Shoes and said I had hung out with Harry Sexton and had some great stories about him. I suspect you lost my number or its too late because you already wrote the book; but if its not, email me spetervsaxton@chartermi.net and I'll call you or give you my number so I can tell you about this totally fascinating character who was so good he once ran over 100 balls banking in the last 20 some. He was never known for banking--just 9-ball but was so good none other than Luther Lassiter admitted he stayed away from Detroit just because he knew Harry was so tough. He was larger than life--truly!

He was a terrific player. Cornbread talked about him all the time. Here is one of my Poochie stories:

George Walker was a southern boy, and owner of the big-time action bar, The Stardust Lounge on North Ave. in Chicago in the 60s. Winning in George's bar was no mean feat. George would do anything he could to beat you when you played in his bar. He would shark you, doctor up the chalk ( soak the chalk in chemicals and then bake it in an over), put pins under the cloth by the pocket to divert a softly hit ball, tush-hog you, "Jar" you if you drank anything, move the table if you went to the bathroom, but my favorite involved his wife Chris. George, had a country-girl wife. Her name was Chris, and she was one of the sexiest creatures alive. She wore mini-skirts when there was no such thing. She would be sitting in a chair, watching the game in her mini, sans panties. If you had a tough shot, and were facing her, at the moment you were delivering the stroke, her legs would open and she would flash you. It may have bothered some players, but I would actually play position to get hit with the flash.

There was a top player from Flint, MI named Harry "Poochie" Sexton. He had a pock-marked face and was no raving beauty. He was credited with having an oversized love member and he lived with George for awhile. It was rumored that he had gotten lucky with Chris. I was never more jealous of anybody in my whole life. Tragically, Chris was later murdered by George's lunatic brother, Lonnie.

Beard

[Cowboy Dennis]

No origin here but a few different uses for tush hog, some from poolplayers.


http://justlanguage.wordpress.com/2006/03/25/cock-of-the-town/

Here's from a guy describing hunting the hogs in the wild.

The ol’timers appropriately call boars such as mine tush-hogs because of the long lower tusk that could rip open an opponent with ease as was evident by the big slash in Red, the Black-mouth Cure’s shoulder. The trophy was not weighed but estimated at 450 pounds. It was a hunt of hunts and a prize I would always cherish.

[Cowboy Dennis]

I guess it could also refer to a wonderful part of the female anatomy as in this Gene Vincent song.



Gene Vincent Lonely Street Forum




TUSH HOG



Subject: TUSH HOG 28.03.08 0:58

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Herbert MAXFELDT Jr.)

Guitar intro

I’m a tush hog baby and I’m gonna prove you yeah!
I’m a tush hog baby and I’m gonna prove you yeah!
If you don’t give what I want I ain’t comin’ ‘round no more

Guitar break

I’m a low down woman I’m low down as a man can be
I’m a low down woman I’m low down as a man can be
If you don’t believe me baby Lord you’ve just to wait, just to wait and see

Guitar break

When the sun goes down I come out of my lair
And if you ain’t waiting baby Lord you been a beware
I’m a tush hog baby and I don’t, don’t mess around
O won’t you wait for me jive well I go slag in this town

Here we go son!
Guitar break

Lord I’m a tush hog baby and I’m roaming you yeah
I’m a tush hog Ma’am and I’m roaming you yeah
If you don’t give what I want I ain’t comin’ ‘round no more
If you don’t give what I want I ain’t comin’ ‘round no more
If you don’t give what I want I ain’t comin’ ‘round no more
If you don’t give what I want I ain’t comin’ ‘round no more
If you don’t give what I want I ain’t comin’ ‘round no more

Guitar break

Lord I’m a low down woman I’m low down as a man can be
I’m a low down woman low down as a man can be
If you don’t believe me baby Lord you’ve just to wait, just to wait and see
If you don’t believe me baby Lord you’ve just to wait, just to wait and see
If you don’t believe me baby Lord you’ve just to wait, just to wait and see
If you don’t believe me baby Lord you’ve just to wait, just to wait and see

Guitar break

When the sun goes down I come out of my lair
And if you ain’t waiting baby Lord you been a beware
I’m a tush hog Mama and I don’t, I don’t mess around
O won’t you wait for me baby well I slag into town
Won’t you wait for me Mama well I slag into town
Won’t you wait for me baby well I slag into town

Guitar break



TUSH HOG




Gene Vincent Lonely Street Forum :: Click : ALL ABOUT GENE VINCENT :: Click : LYRICS/ AUDIOS / REPRISES - tous les titres de Gene Vincent

[fred bentivegna]

Now before the Forum Police Commissioner forms a commitee to investigate one of my pool "boasts," I had better first make a confession. I have Harry "Poochie" Sexton on my beat list, but he is the only guy that should have an asterisk in front of his name. I didnt actually come out ahead at the end of the session. I actually went broke, but there were extenuating circumstances. Poochie and I were playing banks at the open-all-night, Star Bowl in Hammond IN. The infamous George Walker was staking Poochie. I was pounding on the Pooch man pretty good when the devious Walker sent out for coffee. He innocently asked me if I would like one. I had been up all night and I was dying for coffee but I of course refused, with a thank you, no.

I knew all too well, George's reputation for "Jarring" players, but I had a strategic plan. When the coffee arrrived I would beg for some of his.
George however, was a much better stategist than I, because he apparently had forseen my objection, and anticipated a request from me when the batch arrived. He poured half of his large coffee for me in a glass I had procured. I downed it all with gusto. Sure enough, he had doctored his own cup knowing I would weaken and take some of it.

The outcome? Predictable. The object balls became moving targets. I couldnt make a ball in the ocean. I lost back all that I was ahead and went bust. The worst thing about the Jar is that no matter how bad you're playing, you still feel good and cant quit.

So, to my way of thinking, since I was comfortably ahead before the Jar, I counted it as a "win," and added Poochie into the "beat" list. With an asterisk now, of course.

Beard

Notice all my posts are now dotted with data

[CaliRed]

I guess it could also refer to a wonderful part of the female anatomy as in this Gene Vincent song.

Gene Vincent Lonely Street Forum
TUSH HOG



Well, I went looking thru my connections to score this song, but to no avail.

I did find a bit of a review on one of his albums, which included the Tush Hog song. Apparently it didn't go over too good:D

Review by Ralph Heibutzki
Gene Vincent's last albums -- If Only You Could See Me Today and The Day the World Turned Blue -- found him bidding to revive a status he'd achieved with his mid-'50s hit "Be-Bop-A-Lula." These releases tackled different styles to varying success, with inconsistent material being the main problem.

The oddest and worst tracks are "Slow Times Comin'" and "Tush Hog," which take nearly 16 minutes between them; they're decently-sung, but overwhelmed by clichéd, meandering wah-wah guitar solos.

[usblues]

....Gene Vincent from England?I remember the Be-Bop-alula song,Orbisons time too,cool,B

[jay helfert]

Good story. I have noticed sadly that almost no younger guys, say under 50, even know the term "Tush Hog." There are many other pool terms that when used on the younger crowd bring a blank stare. I find this a little sad because our special inside language is so rich and has always been one of the most charming things about our game.

I feel extremely fortunate to have discovered the origin of the word "Tush Hog" and will share it with all of you in the hopes it will live on and that maybe some of you can verify this origin.

I once did some work for an old farmer friend of mine who had the old-fashioned type of farm where you had some cows, some pigs, some chickens, some vegitables and some crops. He interrupted my work one day to come help him in the barn which I willingly did. After all, Andy Lawrence, would do anything for you and you naturally returned favors. As we walked up to the barn we notice the door was open and he murmered, "Oh, oh the Boar's in the barn." As we entered the barn he pointed to a corner near the door and said authoritatively, "You stay there!" Now, mind you, Andy was over 80 when this occurred. As I took my place in the corner, he picked up a pitch fork and held it point first and low like a lance as he slowly walked to the back of the barn. My view was blocked by a stall so all I could do is see what happened next through my astonished, and I don't mind saying frightened, ears. I heard a bone chilling snort/squeel followed closely by an, "Ugh" from Andy like he had been gut-shot and a clammoring that I found out later was him landing up on the wall and sliding down. The Boar ran past me squeeling out the door and I quickly went to Andy's side to check on him. He had speared the Boar with the pitch fork but the Boar had charged him and knocked him against the wall. He pushed me away as he lifted himself off the floor. "That Boar is tushy, he needs his tushes cut off with the bolt cutter." Andy was from Missouri and "Tush" meant "Tusk" in his part of the country. According to him, a Boar with long tushes gets cocky and unruly and needs to have his tusks trimmed in order to be fit for domestic use.

I have no doubt this was the origin of our term, "Tush Hog." I hope we will preserve our precious lexicon of inside language. There is something fulfilling about being able to communicate in short hand with our friends within the society of pool players.

I always wondered where that word came from. It was widely used around Ohio in the 60's too. The biggest tush hog around the Dayton poolrooms was Whitey Messler and he didn't like me, probably because I came from a good family and was Jewish. He didn't need much reason to dislike you. I can remember playing pool and Whitey would take a cue and hit me in the toes while I was shooting. Hard! I would laugh it off, what else could I do.

I wanted to shoot him on more than one occasion and used to fantasize about it. But I never had the guts to actually pull my gun on him. He would have probably taken it away and whipped me with it. Years later when I returned to Dayton he was a lot different with me. I think he knew I was a little better prepared to defend myself now. I had grown up a lot in ten years of hustling and hanging out in pool rooms and bars. I was probably capable of shooting someone at that stage in my life. Came close a couple of times.