Interview with Bunny Rogoff by R Givens part 2

Willie Mosconi & Norman "the Jockey" Howard

Bunny The Rogue aka Pots & Pans

An interview with Bernard "Bunny" Rogoff by Randi Givens © 1993.

RG: Do you have any guidelines for playing 8 ball?
BR: Don't try to run out and try to make your opponent's balls. I play combinations with my balls to make his. Get his balls off to where he has nothing to hide behind. Then you have all the opportunities to play safe. That's strong. I have a rule for playing people that can't play at all. I believe that a first impression is a lasting impression. Anything you do immediately after you make a game will be remembered. Like if I win the toss to break, I might let the cue stick fly. Just let it go when I break the balls. Look like an idiot. Sometimes I come back and run the cue stick into the side of the table. You get everybody in the joint laughing at you. I'd give them the impression that I was helpless, not all there, or a drunk. Here's another good move. When you don't play cue ball in hand and you play from behind the line on scratches, you don't put the cue ball up near the line the way everybody does. You put the cue ball back near the end rail and shoot from there. (Bunny illustrates the idea with an a object ball a couple of inches from the foot rail about a foot from the pocket. A moderate cut shot.) If you put the cue ball on the line and make the shot, they figure you can play a little. But if you act like an idiot and put the cue ball on the rail and make the shot, they won't think anything of it. It doesn't matter if you make it because you were an idiot to put the cue ball in a bad position. That's a real strong move. I've used it a hundred times.
RG: So your main concern was concealing your speed?
BR: Right. Exactly. I was making people bet more than they wanted to. That was another thing. If you get a $5 player to betting $50, he'll stay with you because he knows in his mind that he plays better than you do. But he's dogging it because of the big money. He can't play his game. I'd make them overbet so they're not playing their game. But in their mind they know they are the better player. That's what keeps them playing.
RG: Do you have any advice for playing on bar tables?
BR: Follow the ball for position instead of drawing it. Of course, it's harder to follow a ball three rails than to draw it most of the time. It's easier to draw a lot of the time, but people who can't play don't realize that. You scare them off when you use draw. When you start drawing the length of the table, they get leery.
RG: Tell us about the scores you made over the years.
BR: The most I ever won was $10,000 right here in Las Vegas. As much hustling as I did, I should have won more than that at one time or another. I just wasn't at the right place at the right time. Once I was playing a guy in Carlsbad, CA, who owned a bar there. He was a golfer who loved to play pool. I was playing for $600 a game. That was the most I ever played for. I got to drinking too much——this will probably never happen again—— he quit me because he didn't want to take advantage of me.
RG: You overdid the act.
BR: I was there by myself and I was betting 20 guys on the side. I had the money in a telephone book on different pages and got too drunk to keep track of all thebets. The owner wouldn't take advantage of me and he quit. When I counted my money I was only $300 up. If I had someone to take care of the bets or I hadn't got so drunk, I could have made a real nice score.
RG: I met you when you were hustling around Chicago.
BR: That was one of the best cities I ever played in, that and Detroit. They were the best. You didn't have any hassles. I got in very few fights or anything in the bars at that time. Nowadays, I wouldn't go near those bars.
RG: Did you have many fights hustling in bars?
BR: For the amount of time I spent in bars there were very few. I knew how to avoid them. I could talk my way out of it. And I didn't play when I thought there might be trouble. I had a gimmick when there was big money in a bar where there might be trouble. I'd go in and lose a few games and tell the guy, "I'd really like to play some more, but I've got to meet somebody at Joe's Bar. Usually the guy would agree to play over there. So I'd move the game into a safe place to play. If I'm winning, I buy the house a round of drinks, so if something comes up somebody is going to stick up for me. Another thing, never call a bad hit when you are beating people. If it's close, give it to them. I got out of a couple of bars by calling the police. I told them there was a guy with a knife who just stabbed someone. When the police came, I'd walk out with them. I never told them the guy had a gun because they wouldn't come near the joint. With a knife they don't worry so much.
RG: You used to wear a beard. Did you ever hustle the same players twice because he didn't recognize you with or without the beard?
BR: I beat a guy three days apart one time. I played in a tournament in Macon, Georgia and I beat a salesman called "The Razorblade Man." I had the beard in the tournament and I beat him. Three days later, I shaved the beard off and he didn't recognize me, so I beat him again when I ran into him in a bar.
RG: What was the best disguise you used?
BR: I found out that the best way to go into a poolroom is in a sports coat with a briefcase, like you are a businessman. Now they think you have money. With a truck driver's uniform, they might figure you had $500-600. The other way it might be unlimited how much they think they might win, if you put up a good front.
RG: What did you do when you ran into a strong player?
BR: I'd lose a couple of games and quit. Most of the time I knew who I was playing, but occasionally I'd run into somebody who could play and I'd just quit.
RG: A lot of players who hustle in bars have drinking problems.
BR: Most of them. I used to tell myself that it was good to drink because you're putting on an act and win more money. That's bullshit. Yeah, I drank too much. I thought it was an act. I found out it wasn't an act when I started hustling bars that didn't have pool tables. The pool interferes with your drinking because you've got to stop to shoot. I haven't had a drink in seven years. I saw that it was doing me no good.
RG: What about breaking in 8 ball?
BR: If you have a knack for breaking from the side, that's the best break because you've got a real good shot at making the 8 on the break. You hit the second ball. I've seen real good players who didn't have a knack for that shot. It's a little tricky. You've got to have the right snap. On the right table you might make the 8 two out of ten times. That's quite an edge.

(Here are more of Bunny's War Stories and Tales of the Road):

Norman Howard, aka "the Jockey," and I were on the road travelling to the tournament in Johnston City. I said, "Hey, Jock, how about driving for a while. I'm getting tired." A few minutes later Jock said, "Wake up! I can't see! I can't see!" "What's wrong Jock," I said. "There's snow on the windshield." Jockey answered. "Why don't you put the wipers on?" "Oh, I thought they were just for rain," he replied.
The next day we were in Cumberland, Maryland and Jock's playing a radio announcer who's giving him the 8. Now, Jock's supposed to beat the guy even, but he can't make a ball. So I say "Why don't you quit and play him some more tomorrow. You'll beat him with the 8 and then beat him even." "I ain't quitting. I can beat him. I know I can beat him." Jockey yelled. "You're quitting," I said. "No I'm not," Jockey argued. "Oh, yes, you are. You're quitting," I insisted. "What makes you think I'm quitting," he said. "Because if you don't, when we get to Johnston City and your first match comes up, while they're announcing it over the microphone I'm going to tell them about the windshield wipers." I replied. Less than a minute later Jock was in the rack.

Kilroy (Roy "Kilroy" Kosmanski) and me were on the road and he was posing as an executive opening tomato-canning factories. I had the truck driver's uniform and a beard, so they never connected us anywhere.
Kilroy was telling everybody stories about building tomato factories so often that he actually got to believing it himself. After we took off the money, we'd go to the outskirts of town or down the road a ways to eat so they wouldn't see us together. After a while, Kilroy got to the point where he wouldn't sit with me. He'd take a booth and make me sit at the counter because he was an executive and didn't want anybody to see him associating with a truck driver. How do you like that?

I was visiting Pittsburgh and a guy named Tex told me about a bookmaker taking bets out of a steelmill. "If you can get him to the table, he'll lose some money. The only thing is that there is a little heat in the bar. So we'll have to send a couple of guys in there to get you out when you win the money. I thought that was fair enough, so I said, "That's alright. Give them a third." I played the fellow for $40 a game and took him off for $800. So we left the bar and cut up the money. After we gave the guys who helped us their third they left and I asked Tex, "I didn't see any heat in there. What's the story with giving these guys a third. I didn't see any trouble whatsoever." "The heat was those guys who took you out of the place," Tex said. "They were going to rob you if you didn't give them a piece of the action."

I was on the road with Earl Shriver and we stopped in a small town in Virginia. Earl was dressed in a sports shirt and slacks and I wore the truck driver's uniform with the wallet on a chain so I wouldn't connect with him. We went in a bar and I sat at one end while Earl went down to where they were playing. There were three guys playing for $3 on the five and $3 on the nine. Earl was sitting there watching and before long one of the players walked over and said," Man, I put too much english on that shot." "Yeah, that happened to me the last time I was playing Jack. You see Earl had picked up the names of the players while he was sweating the game.
A few minutes later another guy comes over to Earl and says, "Bill's really shooting good today." "Yeah, Bill's playing alright today, but I played him a while back and he didn't shoot that good," Earl responded. Fifteen minutes later I looked back and Earl was in the game and the bet had been raised to $5 on the five and $5 on the nine. In less than an hour, Earl busted the game and walked out with all the money. Then I heard the players saying, "Do you know him?" "No, I don't. I thought he was a friend of yours," the first player said. "No I never met the guy before. I thought he was your friend."

Bucky Fair took me to Hendersonville, N. Carolina and I beat this guy who owns a music shop out of $200 and he heads for the rack, asking me for the 8 and the 9. Giving this guy the 8 is a real tough game and I don't have to win, so I don't like it. So we go down to Greenville, S. Carolina where there's a guy called "Grinder." Now, it so happens that neither one of us can beat the Grinder, but the Grinder isn't around. He's out hustling somewhere. I get on the phone and call Hendersonville, where I won $200 the day before. I get the Music Man on the phone and pretend to be the Grinder. "A man passing through told me there was some action up there yesterday." The Music Man said, "Yeah, a guy was here and we played for $20 a game. We broke even." The guy wouldn't admit to losing the $200, but I was acting like the Grinder so I said, "I'll be up there around two or three o'clock. If that guy shows up, you've got part of the action."
So we head back to Hendersonville. As soon as we hit the door, I asked the Music Man to play some, but he asked for the 8. "Man, you know I can't give you the 8." I told him. Then the Music Man said, "I'll tell you what, I've got some business to take care of, but I'll be back around two o'clock and we can play some then." "I don't think I'll wait," I said, heading for the door. "I'm heading on." Before I made it to the door, the Music Man called me back. "I'll play some for $5." "That ain't no good. We played for $20 yesterday, so we've got to play for at least $10," I told him. "OK. We'll play a few for $10," the Music Man said. Now this guy is waiting for the Grinder to show up, but the Grinder ain't never going to come. The Music Man kept looking at the door and meanwhile I win another $300 for a total score of $500. That's not bad.

It sure beats working in the steel mill. I did that for seven months too. I couldn't stand it though, all that working like to ruin my stroke.