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TV Fiasco Spawned Mosconi-Fats Duel
This "Great Pool Shoot-Out" of 1978 became the most watched pool match in the history of American sport.
With that context in mind, consider this: The 1978 shoot-out and the ones that followed, the televised rivalry between Fats and Mosconi, the participation of Howard Cosell and the major networks - that all came about as the result of the pocket billiards TV fiasco of Oct. 22, 1977. "And it was so poorly edited, they didn't even air it," said Ursitti.
This is what happened: Late during the 1970s, a man by the name of Bruce Christopher, an alleged pool hustler with a remarkable resemblance to Robert Redford and a talent for self-promotion, somehow managed to get himself listed in the Guinness Book of World Records. And Ursitti - a native New Yorker, a man never short on Big Apple-sized ideas - got it into his head to promote a televised challenge match between Christopher and Minnesota Fats. Ursitti said he was then representing Christopher, and figured he could generate some attention through the matchup.
"It was supposed to be the legendary hustler against the up-and-coming hustler; the legendary hustler against the young lion," explained Ursitti. "He [Christopher] got himself in the Guinness Book of World Records for pocketing like 5,600-something balls [in 24 hours], and so I set up a match between this guy and Fats."
Ursitti contacted an outfit known as Big Fights, which handled promotions associated with Guinness Book. And together, Ursitti and Big Fights planned an event to be held at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, the Hilton Room on the main floor, with Cosell serving as moderator and Mosconi providing color. Ursitti was there too. In the middle of the room, they set a big nine-foot Brunswick. There were high-backed chairs for the players, tables on one side for the audience, and a sound booth.
And then a wire came loose. Or a transistor burned out. Or a lens fell off. At any rate, something went wrong with a camera - what it was, no one quite remembers - but something went wrong. And the whole production came to a screeching halt.
And that, said Ursitti, is what became the most important TV dead air time in the history of American pocket billiards.
"This is so unbelievable, but it's true," said Ursitti. "The camera breaks down, and I tell Fatty, I say, 'Fatty, why don't you entertain the audience?' And so Fats says - and you know Fats, he sounded just like W.C. Fields - so Fats says, 'Don't you worry 'bout nothing. I'll entertain the audience.'
"And so he said: 'Anybody have any questions?' and someone [from the audience] asks, 'Fats, what's the most money you ever played for?'
"'I played Happy the Chinaman for $50,000!'
"'Ever play Ralph Greenleaf?'
'"I played Ralph 1,000 nights in a row, and I beat him every night!'
"'Ever play Andrew Ponzi?'
"'Andrew Ponzi was a girl. I beat him like a drum!'"
Meanwhile, Willie Mosconi is sitting off to one side, in a high-backed chair, and he's fuming. He cannot stand it. He absolutely cannot. "Why are you letting him go on like that?" he says. And it was then, just as a vein really began to pop out from Willie's forehead, that Ursitti remembers those "magic words." They came from a member of the audience.
"'Did you ever play Mosconi?'"
At first there was silence. But that lasted just a moment. Fats takes a breath before he answers, and then he answers very carefully. He answers indirectly. It was a rare moment of discretion for Walter Rudolf "Minnesota Fats" Wanderone.
"I played 'em all and I beat 'em all," he says.
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