JAM
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Starting to work on an article about Jimmy Reid, and I came across a 1974 Sports Illustrated article written by none other than Walter Tevis, the author of "The Hustler." I did not know he wrote for Sports Illustrated. Three of his novels were adapted into movies, by the way, which is pretty strong.
Anyway, check out what he writes about Jimmy: By the electric green table with narrow pockets under a cone of light stands Hippie Jimmy, James Reid of Detroit, in his early 20s and one of the best nine-ball men of his time. Like the table, Jimmy is dressed in green, but a darker shade, close to olive. He has on tight knit flares and a matching green T shirt with beige embroidery at the neck.
Hippie Jimmy holds in his hand a 57-inch, 20-ounce pool cue with steel joint, ivory inlays and gray silk-wrapped butt, every inch of it handmade by Bill Stroud of Joss Cues West in the clean air of Aspen, Colo., a million miles from this big poolroom in Dayton, Ohio.
It is between matches here in the third week of the Tournament of Champions, usually called the hustlers' tournament because the matches do not include straight pool, the game of such suit-and-tie respectables as Willie Mosconi and Joe Balsis. Instead they are divided among the three biggest gamblers' games: one-pocket, bank pool and nine-ball.
The six rows of bleachers are beginning to fill, mostly with ordinary-looking people. There are 62 professionals here who have paid up to $325 to play for $30,000 in prize money, and you might spot some of the hustlers by their sharp, mod clothes, men like Jim Rempe, or the cousins Pete and Jimmy Fusco of Philadelphia, or Bugs Rucker, or Ronnie Allen, the younger generation. But you could be fooled by some drably dressed middle-aged men like Boston Shorty, or Jersey Red, or Luther (Wimpy) Lassiter, or that country maniac of gamblers, Cornbread Red, all of whom look like Middle America but handle a cue stick as though it were the wand of Glinda the Good of Oz.
The main thing is, it would be unwise to play pool of whatever kind for money with anybody in this room. There are some serious people here.
Jay Helfert, Toupee Jay, comes in: small, agile and bald. The toupee is what he wears the second time he plays for money in a town on the road. He and Jimmy nod at each other.
Walter does have a way with words.
Interestingly, Walter's wife, Jamie Griggs Tevis, published her autobiography, "My Life with the Hustler." She died August 4, 2006.
Anybody have any Jimmy stories? Would love to read some as I'm working on his article. I'd like to hear from those who may have witnessed Jimmy in his prime, a U.S. Open 9-Balll Champion.
Anyway, check out what he writes about Jimmy: By the electric green table with narrow pockets under a cone of light stands Hippie Jimmy, James Reid of Detroit, in his early 20s and one of the best nine-ball men of his time. Like the table, Jimmy is dressed in green, but a darker shade, close to olive. He has on tight knit flares and a matching green T shirt with beige embroidery at the neck.
Hippie Jimmy holds in his hand a 57-inch, 20-ounce pool cue with steel joint, ivory inlays and gray silk-wrapped butt, every inch of it handmade by Bill Stroud of Joss Cues West in the clean air of Aspen, Colo., a million miles from this big poolroom in Dayton, Ohio.
It is between matches here in the third week of the Tournament of Champions, usually called the hustlers' tournament because the matches do not include straight pool, the game of such suit-and-tie respectables as Willie Mosconi and Joe Balsis. Instead they are divided among the three biggest gamblers' games: one-pocket, bank pool and nine-ball.
The six rows of bleachers are beginning to fill, mostly with ordinary-looking people. There are 62 professionals here who have paid up to $325 to play for $30,000 in prize money, and you might spot some of the hustlers by their sharp, mod clothes, men like Jim Rempe, or the cousins Pete and Jimmy Fusco of Philadelphia, or Bugs Rucker, or Ronnie Allen, the younger generation. But you could be fooled by some drably dressed middle-aged men like Boston Shorty, or Jersey Red, or Luther (Wimpy) Lassiter, or that country maniac of gamblers, Cornbread Red, all of whom look like Middle America but handle a cue stick as though it were the wand of Glinda the Good of Oz.
The main thing is, it would be unwise to play pool of whatever kind for money with anybody in this room. There are some serious people here.
Jay Helfert, Toupee Jay, comes in: small, agile and bald. The toupee is what he wears the second time he plays for money in a town on the road. He and Jimmy nod at each other.
Walter does have a way with words.
Interestingly, Walter's wife, Jamie Griggs Tevis, published her autobiography, "My Life with the Hustler." She died August 4, 2006.Anybody have any Jimmy stories? Would love to read some as I'm working on his article. I'd like to hear from those who may have witnessed Jimmy in his prime, a U.S. Open 9-Balll Champion.
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jimmyreid.JPG
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