8/16/2023 0 Comments Pool billiards nyc queens 11377![]() ![]() Comparing it to pool was like comparing checkers to chess. It was during these years that I became intrigued with three cushion billiards. I knew enough not to make a sound and simply find myself a seat, or a spot on the wall and silently watch. Walking into Ames I would often find big money games in progress…games that had started in the middle of the night and were still going on. When she had an early morning shift on a Sunday, I would drive her to work at about 5:30AM and then continue to Manhattan. In the early sixties, when Linda and I were newlyweds, Linda was working as a nurse at what was then Hillcrest General Hospital. The houseman, who was the real houseman in a cameo role, replies flatly: “Mister, this is Ames.” In the classic film “The Hustler” which was partially filmed there, Paul Newman’s character, “Fast Eddy” Felson, walks up to the houseman and asks if they play straight pool there. You walked up and you were enveloped by the sights and sounds of this unique place. ![]() It was upstairs and when you got to the top of the stairs you were right in the middle of the room. The most notorious of these was “Ames.” Located on 44th Street just off Seventh Avenue it was open twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. The Notorious AmesĪmes Billiards, 160 West 44th Street, at Seventh Avenue. In the nineteen sixties and seventies there were pool rooms in New York City that attracted the best players and hustlers from all over the country. I was never to become a good player…more than fifty years ago I ran forty eight balls when I was in the US Army in Germany, and before my game collapsed I ran nine in three cushion billiards…but never graduated from pigeon to player. ![]() I really don’t remember how many times I returned there, but I’ve been a pool room junkie ever since. There were the hustlers and their pigeons…sometimes referred to as fish…and if you simply watched for a while, you immediately knew who was who. Little dramas were being played out at each island of light. In this darkened smoky room the hushed sounds were interrupted only by the clicking noise of the balls hitting each other. These were people you didn’t fool around with. There was a sort of mystery…an underlying sense of danger…for I immediately knew not to challenge anyone there even simply by making eye contact. The room was an old fashioned room…dark if no one was playing…the tiffany type lamps that hung over each table only lit if the table was being paid for…switched on by the houseman at the desk when he punched the clock. Anyway, I was about sixteen, and sure enough when I nervously asked, a beer slid across the bar. The drinking age was eighteen then and a draft card, issued by selective service on your 18th birthday, was the right of passage. It was up a long flight of stairs and I think the reason I went there in the first place was because I heard they would serve you a beer even if you didn’t have a draft card. The first pool room I walked into was in Queens Village, New York, across from the LIRR railroad station on Springfield Boulevard just south of Jamaica Avenue. ![]()
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