HomeAbout Billiards DigestContact UsArchiveAll About PoolEquipmentOur AdvertisersLinks
Tips & shafts
By George Fels
Consulting Editor George Fels has been writing for Billiards Digest since 1980, and his "Tips & Shafts" column is usually our readers' first stop when they crack open the magazine. For better or worse, pool has been his only mistress for 40-plus years.


Archives
• November 2024
• October 2024
• September 2024
• August 2024
• July 2024
• June 2024
• May 2024
• April 2024
• March 2024
• February 2024
• January 2024
• December 2023
• November 2023
• October 2023
• September 2023
• August 2023
• July 2023
• June 2023
• May 2023
• April 2023
• March 2023
• February 2023
• January 2023
• December 2022
• November 2022
• October 2022
• September 2022
• August 2022
• July 2022
• June 2022
• May 2022
• April 2022
• March 2022
• February 2022
• January 2022
• December 2021
• November 2021
• October 2021
• September 2021
• August 2021
• July 2021
• June 2021
• May 2021
• April 2021
• March 2021
• February 2021
• January 2021
• December 2020
• November 2020
• October 2020
• September 2020
• August 2020
• June 2020
• April 2020
• March 2020
• February 2020
• January 2020
• December 2019
• November 2019
• October 2019
• September 2019
• August 2019
• July 2019
• June 2019
• May 2019
• April 2019
• March 2019
• February 2019
• January 2019
• December 2018
• November 2018
• October 2018
• September 2018
• July 2018
• July 2018
• June 2018
• May 2018
• April 2018
• March 2018
• February 2018
• January 2018
• November 2017
• October 2017
• August 2017
• July 2017
• June 2017
• May 2017
• April 2017
• March 2017
• February 2017
• January 2017
• December 2016
• November 2016
• October 2016
• September 2016
• August 2016
• July 2016
• June 2016
• May 2016
• Apr 2016
• Mar 2016
• Feb 2016
• Jan 2016
• December 2015
• November 2015
• October 2015
• September 2015
• August 2015
• July 2015
• June 2015
• May 2015
• April 2015
• March 2015
• February 2015
• January 2015
• October 2014
• August 2014
• May 2014
• March 2014
• February 2014
• September 2013
• June 2013
• May 2013
• April 2013
• March 2013
• February 2013
• January 2013
• December 2012
• November 2012
• October 2012
• September 2012
• August 2012
• July 2012
• June 2012
• May 2012
• April 2012
• March 2012
• February 2012
• January 2012
• December 2011
• November 2011
• October 2011
• September 2011
• August 2011
• July 2011
• June 2011
• May 2011
• April 2011
• March 2011
• February 2011
• January 2011
• December 2010
• November 2010
• October 2010
• September 2010
• August 2010
• July 2010
• May 2010
• April 2010
• March 2010
• February 2010
• January 2010
• December 2009
• November 2009
• October 2009
• September 2009
• August 2009
• July 2009
• June 2009
• May 2009
• April 2009
• March 2009
• February 2009
• January 2009
• October 2008
• September 2008
• August 2008
• July 2008
• June 2008
• May 2008
• April 2008
• March 2008
• February 2008
• January 2008


Best of Fels
 
September: Wanted: A Hero
September 2017

By George Fels
[Reprinted from April 1981]


Universality at Last! It had to be the first time in at least 50 years that any mention of pool, in any form, made the front pages of all the newspapers. The date was January 22, 1981. The speaker was former top White House aide Hamilton Jordan. He was issuing a statement about the successful negotiating process on behalf of the Iran hostages. And he declared that the agreement for the hostages’ release came together “like a Willie Mosconi pool shot, where you have to hit the balls perfectly, and if you do, 10 balls fall into the pockets at one time.”

I wouldn’t look for the game to be completely reborn as a result of this free publicity. But Jordan’s statement really is rather remarkable for the way it reflects the total stranglehold Mosconi had on the game. Most of Willie Mosconi’s competitive heyday took place before Hamilton Jordan was born. Mosconi’s world titles number well into the teens. Among all sports, his only competition for consistency at the championship level comes from billiards. But what Willie Mosconi did besides run balls and win was to elevate his game in the eyes of the masses. He rose to prominence in the ’30s and continued through the 40s, and even a casual check of the billiards industry will show you that the game never had it so good. The number of commercial rooms was at an all-time high, fathers still took their kids to play in them, and audiences for the game numbering in the thousands were not unusual, especially when Mosconi played. He wrote two books, made film shorts, entertained troops. Even in the last little flurry of success the game enjoyed, in the next year or two following “The Hustler,” Mosconi was still in great demand for exhibitions, and the advent of plastic balls and sharp-angled pockets confounded him so much that all he could do was run 150 and out, just like he had always done. Willie Mosconi’s stature as a champion was not lost on the media. A full generation ago, writing of his championship block with the late Joe Procita, Time magazine said, “…Mr. Mosconi looked like a banker surrounded by characters out of a banker’s nightmare.” That was the last time I saw him play with anything more than pride on the line, and he went through poor Procita like water through shampoo lather. But it wasn’t the mere winning that made seeing Mosconi magical; after all, it was a foregone conclusion for the entire universe that he would win. What was special was the man’s carriage and demeanor and sense of himself. The beauty of the game always came out when Mosconi played, and once the show was over, there would be a virtual stampede to get to the tables, because he made it look so easy and everybody had championship fantasies of their own to act out. If you were into the game at all, you played several notches above your customary speed right after watching Mosconi.

We haven’t had a player like that, or anything remotely close since. Oh, I know it’s the rage among some of today’s top young players to issue open challenges to Mosconi, and maybe they could win today at that; Mosconi has not played competitively since the early ’60s. But a comparison between Mosconi in his prime and anyone else is nothing more than a comparison between lions and Christians.

And, despite an occasional sneer you might hear, Mosconi played pretty fair for cash whenever somebody was maniacal or masochistic enough to challenge him. He didn’t bet anything that would make the GNP shift one way or the other, but he won what he did bet. In a 9-ball session with Chicago’s Joe Sebastian, a seedy little man but a brilliant player, Willie ran the first 13 racks out from the opening break. Joe’s backer, fast approaching coma, threw in the towel, and Joe indignantly lamented, “Whaddya mean, quit? You ain’t seen was I can do yet!” And the legendary Minnesota Fats, for all his blustery hype about his one-pocket superiority, booked a loser with Mosconi in the famous Allinger’s room in Philadelphia.

What’s more important by far is that we haven’t had that kind of champion since. When you took your kid or some other novitiate to see Mosconi, you could assure that person that they had a pretty good chance to see a guy run 100 balls, and there isn’t a living human you can brag that way about today. And most of all, there was that magical thrill of knowing you were watching the best there ever was. Like the beer commercial says, “…it doesn’t get any better than this.” Willie Mosconi was clearly the last champion we ever had with the potential to do for our game what the Beatles did for rock or Schwarzenegger did for bodybuilders; create a bridge to the masses, invite millions in cordially, elevate the game. We have had a merchandisable player since Mosconi. Steve Mizerak does not compare either as a player or as an electricity-generator, but he’s still a rare talent with an amiable personality, and those are awfully good beer commercials, the best promotion shot in the arm the game has had in 20 years. So how has Mizerak’s organization (the Professional Pool Players Association) gone about sponsoring him? By putting petty grievances first and running low-prize fund tournaments. In the meantime, they have not produced a player whose name will be bandied about in relation to world news events in 20 years.

It’s not the PPPA’s fault that we have no dominant, visible champion today. But I tend to agree with Danny DiLiberto, who said, “It takes more than just gathering a bunch of hundred-ball runners together.” Damn right. What it takes is a real champion. Don’t look for our great game to go too far without one.

MORE VIDEO...