What do you get when you pair a Penthouse Pet of the Month with billiards? Hopefully, if you’re Spike TV, lots of engaged late-night viewers. That was the intent behind Bikini Pool Shark, a televised series consisting of one-minute videos that ran for 12 weeks on Spike, beginning in late November 2006.

Featuring Penthouse model Krista Ayne, who was a contender for Pet of the Year in 2007, each sexually-titled episode of Bikini Pool Shark adhered to same structure that titillated viewers with 60 seconds of tongue-in-cheek instruction on how to make a specific trick shot.

Each episode begins with Ms. Ayne, wearing either a bikini or Daisy Dukes, writhing a bit on camera, before addressing the audience with the opener, “Hey guys, let’s break some balls.” A quick montage of Ms. Ayne in various vampish poses is then followed by her announcing that particular show’s trick shot with its suggestive title: “I’m going to show you how to Slip One In.”

In the next 15 seconds, Ms. Ayne explains the specific trick shot using a barrage of sexual puns. For example, in the Slip One In episode below, she shares how she plans to “take care of four balls in one shot…the first three are pretty easy. But the last one is going to be a tight squeeze. Sometimes you need just a little curve to slip it right in.” Then, with the signature Bikini Pool Shark guitar riff looping, Ms. Ayne takes the shot, which is then shown again (and again) from different angles and at different speeds.   The episode wraps with Ms. Ayne’s sultry send-off, “I’ll show you game if you show me yours.”

The sexual double-entendres, puerile obsession with Ms. Ayne’s bodacious figure, and juvenile titles were all part of the adult themed, yet still whimsical, personality that Spike TV was cultivating in the mid-2000s. The station had a few years earlier pivoted to more adult-oriented programming, embracing its reputation as the “First Network for Men.” Thus, it’s perfectly fitting that some of the Bikini Pool Shark episodes included:

• Running the Train – a trick shot involving a four rail carom of a trapped cue that runs up two cue sticks, rolls down two others, and sinks the 8-ball.
• Blue Ball Special – a jump shot that yields the zinger, “Sometimes a big stick just isn’t the right tool for the job.”
• Splits – “For this shot, I pulled out my huge rack and I get to use two sticks at once.”
• Bottoms Up – a pool prop novelty shot in which a beer glass is curved around balls to knock in the 9-ball

Carnal witticisms aside, Bikini Pool Shark does feature a number of very cool pool shots. All the shots were designed (and some were certainly made) by trick shot champion Andy “The Magic Man” Segal, who also served as the billiards technical advisor for the Woody Allen film Sweet & Lowdown and a number of billiards commercials (AT&T, All detergent). He explains (in more detail than Ms. Ayne provides) a number of the shots from Bikini Pool Shark on the how-to MonkeySee website.

Arguably, there is reason to criticize Bikini Pool Shark as a flagrant example of the objectification of women, and in a similar vein, a disparagement of women billiards players. Such censure is not without merit. But, I would counter that the promotional vehicle Rack Starz, which featured a dozen professional female billiards players in a variety of navel-bearing, cleavage-gazing, outfits and marketed them via the tagline, “Brains, Beauty, and an Amazing RACK,” was a far more egregious offender.

Bikini Pool Shark, for all its curves and gags, did not take itself seriously, and knew its audience, which was almost half (45%) women, did not either. Other than supporting the career of Ms. Ayne, who later appeared on the November 2008 cover of Rolling Stone with Kid Rock, Biking Pool Shark made little dent in the billiards universe, for better or worse.

Now, maybe I’ll go practice my Money Shot one more time.

In the 1935 movie Bad Boy, Eddie Nolan, a billiards player and occasional hustler, is derided by a disapproving family as a “street-corner loafer,” a “pool hall hoodlum,” and a “bad boy.” In doing so, the family proffers the argument that passion and talent for pool is a one-way ticket on a path to reprobation. Thirty-five years later, the ABC sitcom The Flying Nun made a similar contention in the third season billiards episode “Armando and the Pool Table.”

Having never known that Gidget once flew through the air wearing a habit, I was tickled pink to have stumbled across this particular late-‘60s television series. (As one reviewer opined, “Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, and The Flying Nun constitute the troika of sitcoms that truly represented the 1960s.”) For the uninitiated, The Flying Nun starred Sally Field as Sister Bertrille, a 90-pound nun who in joining the Convent San Tanco in Puerto Rico, discovers she has the literal gift of aviation, a power granted to her by the combination of her light weight, the heavy winds, and the aerodynamic nature of her cornette.

In the 1970 episode, “Armando and the Pool Table,” Carlos Ramirez (Alejandro Rey), a local playboy and casino owner who is also a patron of the sisters, unloads a pool table on the convent. Though Reverend Mother Placido (Madeleine Sherwood) initially protests, saying, “This is a teaching order not a pool parlor,” she is swayed by Sister Bertrille’s assertion that pool might provide a good distraction for Armando, a sweet-hearted youth with a penchant for pursuing risky activities like swinging from tree branches and jumping from rooftops.

Once the convent finds room for the table in the cellar by clearing out the pickles (“and so where the briny pickle had reined the billiard ball now rolled”), the impressionable Armando quickly takes a liking to the game, especially when he watches and is then taught by a local legend Emilio Gomez (John Hoyt years before achieving wider fame as Grandpa Kaninsky on Gimme a Break!).

The lessons go so well that Armando’s education starts to suffer, providing the first thematic hint that pool is a gateway to a world of damnation. Acting decisively, the Reverend Mother says Armando must focus on “his schoolwork not his pool work” and instructs Sister Bertrille that “we must give up the pool table and he must give up the game.”

But, Sister Bertrille recognizes that taking the table away will only increase his love for the game, so she concocts a scheme in which he will be shown up by Carlos, who not surprisingly for a gambler and Casanova, is also a pool hustler. In a “big time pool game” waged for “six small ones,” the “Minnesota Fats of San Tanco” (Carlos) plays the “Minneapolis Skinny of the Convent” (Armando).

More confident than his years, Armando scratches after pocketing a few balls. Carlos, in turn, quickly runs the table. At this point, to further put pressure on Armando, Sister Bertrille raises the stakes to $5,000, putting up as collateral the convent’s prized “golden candlesticks” and exclaiming, “We’ve suckered him into the big one. Now we can clean up.” Terrified by the pressure, but not wanting to disappoint the sisters, Armando agrees to play, but is then glory-hallelujah relieved when the Reverend Mother appears, shutting down the game. Swearing off all sinful avocations, the saved (and duped) Armando confesses, “I will not be a pool player or a paratrooper or a trapeze artist. No sir.”

In the end, the pool table is excommunicated, returned to its rightful hustler Emilio Gomez, and the pool passion is drowned, leaving room for good schooling, religious teaching, and (with a comedic wink), other prosperous hobbies.

The full episode of “Armando and the Pool Table” is available here. Watch carefully for a brief appearance by future Charlie’s Angel Farah Fawcett.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyvbtoCeK9s

In the cosmology of billiards film/television, there is an inherent yin and yang, meaning for every cinematic masterpiece such as The Hustler, there also exists a catastrophe like Virgin Pockets. The same holds true for billiards television. For masterworks such as “A Game of Pool” (from the Twilight Zone) or “Physical Education” (from Community) to truly shine, equivalent fiascoes must be produced to counterbalance and restore equilibrium. Such is the bottom-scraping role of Friday the 13^th – “Wedding Bell Blues.”

Friday the 13^th was an American-Canadian televised horror series that ran for three seasons from October 1987 to May, 1990. The series followed two antique hunters, Micki Foster (Louise Roby) and Ryan Dallion (John D. LeMay), who try to recover and safely store a variety of cursed antiques. In the case of “Wedding Bell Blues,” that antique is a hexed cue stick, which enables its user to play can’t-miss pool, so long as the stick’s power is periodically replenished via impaling someone and taking the person’s life.

Airing in May 1989 during the series’ second season, “Wedding Bell Blues” includes embarrassingly inaccurate pool sequences, a third-grade script, and robotic acting. The full episode is available to watch here. As an example, early in the episode, Danny, the unwitting owner of the cursed cue, is at the Silver Dollar Pool Hall playing an opponent, who is trouncing him in 8-ball, calling shot after shot…except, none of the pocketed balls actually match the called shots.

https://youtu.be/Ijq3visRMvs

The title, “Wedding Bell Blues,” refers to Danny’s girlfriend, the bridezilla Jennifer, who has convinced herself they will marry as soon as Danny wins the big pool tournament. She understands that feeding the stick (i.e., impaling pool hall patrons) is a necessary evil to keep his game sharp. As she says, “Long as I’ve known him, shooting pool is all he’s ever wanted to do.”

Her dirty little secret is that she is carrying Danny’s baby, so marriage is more important to her than anything. She doesn’t want the baby born out of wedlock. Thus, when her younger sister, Christy, played by the then-unknown actress Lolita Davidovich, says with cardboard conviction, “Why don’t you grow some brains and walk away from him?” she replies, with dramatic wallop, “Because I can’t.”

Clearly, my Friday the 13^th bad luck came a couple of weeks late this year, as a more apt title for this time-sucking episode would have been “Billiards TV Blues.”

Early last week, a familiar debate raged within the AZ Billiards forum: Who is the greatest living cue maker? The question received 2,771 views and 59 responses in three days. Many names were suggested – Dennis Searing, Danny Tibbitts, Thomas Wayne, Ernie Gutierrez, Bill Schick, etc – though there was nothing close to consensus.

In December 2005, a variant of this same question was presented by the television series The Genuine Article in the episode “Puzzles and Pool Cues.” Their answer was Richard Black, the “finest craftsman of pool cues” who has dedicated his life to making “the most beautiful cue sticks in the world.”

The Genuine Article was a 30-minute television series that aired on the Fine Living Network from June 2004 through May 2007. Each episode featured British-born host Gordon Elliott taking an in-depth look at the quality behind two of the finest products and/or services in the world. Mr. Elliott would introduce these master craftsmen, who on different episodes included makers of everything from Turkish rugs and Venetian glass to belt buckles and barbecue grills, and then follow with his signature refrain that what they are creating is “nothing less than the genuine article.”

Richard Black

It is hardly a surprise that Mr. Black was the subject focus of “Puzzles and Pool Cues.“ (His name was also mentioned repeatedly in response to the aforementioned AZ Billiards Forum question.) A former successful stockbroker, Mr. Black began making cues as an avocation. But, starting in 1974, when he got to “express [himself] through artistic designs, it got to be so much fun…Once I found a canvas I could work on, it just flowed.”

For 40 years, he has treated cues as his “canvas” and drawn on sources as “eclectic” as Paul Gauguin, Pablo Picasso, Fabergé eggs, and Parker pens to inspire his craftsmanship and to win fans and accolades across the world. His cue, the Chantilly, earned a permanent home at the National Museum of American History of the Smithsonian Institution in 1998. His cue, the Rhapsody, was featured in the 1999 “Pool” episode of the Pretender television series. BCA Hall of Famer Steve “the Miz” Mizerak dedicated his Complete Book of Pool to Mr. Black, thanking him for “renewing [his] interest in pool.” And, not surprisingly, several years after the airing of The Genuine Article episode, he was inducted into the American Cuemaker’s Hall of Fame.

In “Puzzles and Pool Cues,” Mr. Elliott introduces Mr. Black by saying his custom cues can cost as much as $50,000 (though the traditional ones range from $1700-$5400). One cue described at length in the episode is the Antipodes, which is made from 16 different types of wood from 16 different countries around the world. Though it has 600 inlays, the cue stick took only three weeks to create. At $30,000, it is “moderately priced.”

Also included in “Puzzles and Pool Cues” are interviews with Victor Stein, author of The Billiard Encyclopedia, and Jack “Gentleman Jack” Colavita (who once starred alongside Minnesota Fats in the long-lost billiards movie The Player.) Mr. Colavita said, “Without no doubt in my mind, [Richard Black] is the best cue maker…I don’t play with no other cue than Richard Black…there is no doubt about it.” (Sadly, Mr. Colavita passed away in September 2005, three months before the “Puzzles and Pool Cues” episode actually aired.)

Though The Genuine Article long ago stopped broadcasting, Mr. Black, now in his seventies, continues to make a little less than 20 cues per year. His shop, Richard Black Custom Cues, is in Humble, Texas, and his cues are viewable on his website.

On a final note, this blog post could not have been written without the individual help of Mr. Black. There is only a handful of The Genuine Article episodes available on the web, and “Puzzles and Pool Cues” is not one of them. Most fortunately, Mr. Black responded to my last-ditch effort to obtain the episode by personally mailing me a copy of the DVD for my viewing pleasure. Mr. Black, you are indeed the genuine article.