This report is not complete, as it is part of an “On-Going” investigation into the background and current activities of this organization (Gang).
We had hired a semi-secret investigative team that is reputed to be direct descendents of “Bulldog” Drummond. Their names were given as Bailey and Dailey Drummond. Since our meetings usually take place after midnight, I keep my hand in my pocket, on you know what. No, not that, my gun stupid. They came dressed in belted trench coats with fedora hats and dark glasses. I am pretty sure one of them is a girl, but I don’t know which one. Trust was scarce.
The three subjects hang around a semi-secret carom club called the Minneapolis Billiard Club, (Do you believe that), in the Broadway-Stinson neighborhood. All three of them claim to be owner/operators. This club is close to Interstate Highway 35 where there is always some construction going on, in case they have to bury something, late at night. I had to ask some dubious characters for directions. They kept glancing over their shoulders, mumbled and refused to make eye contact. Advice, if you go to the club, park under a street light and leave a trail of bread crumbs back to your car.
The first guy is bogus. Goes by the name of Tim Gardner. The name is an obvious “Non’de Plume” as he didn’t know the first thing about gardens; he has known associates in the Billiard/Carom world and has no apparent source of employment. The second one is also fishy. The name he goes by is Rene Ducret, so is usually referred to as “Frenchy” or “The Frenchman”. One club patron referred to him as just “French Fried”, but this, was immediately dismissed, as it could not be backed up with any evidence. These two
Nefarious bozos are still under investigation. The local police were quoted, “Who? Oh they aren’t worth our time, most of our budget is tied up in high stakes bingo and pull-tab investigation”. We, however, are still following up, as there seems to be some fire under the smoke.
The third member of this group has a history and is known as “Fast Freddy” Lamers. He claims to be from a large family and that one of his brothers is a cop, but since he looks Italian, and casual visitors have been observed bowing down and kissing his fathers ring, we are highly suspicious about what it means when he says “Family”.
One of our sources is a murky character known as “Doc”. We are pretty sure he is no Doctor, as he didn’t seem to know an aspirin from a mustard plaster. Background reports show a four year, top secret, underground connection with the United States Air Force (early sixties) followed by two years at various Government facilities including NASA and then four years at the NSA in the late sixties, but any expansion on that info was like stealing a pork chop from a coon hound. Our crack investigative team said, “there was spurious threats, knife waving, random shots and dirty language involved, we had to beat it”.
Doc claims, (drugs and a little known ice cream torture were used to extract this info from him), he met Freddy in the late 80’s when he pulled a small hustle by getting a 4-point spot, “On The Wire” in a Race to 10 at 3 cushions. Freddy, a quick learner broke that action down to. “The next time you get any spot from me it will be a tattoo on your forehead. Doc admitted that currently Freddy beats him about 3 to one at three cushions, so Doc doesn’t need that action either. Freddy got even a few months later during one lazy afternoon, in a game of, “Whatchu-wan-do”, 9-ball, race to 5; Doc was running away at 4 to zip when he tripped and Freddy got out. With the score at 4 to 1 Freddy made the 9-ball, “On-The-Break” and also on the next four breaks in a row leaving Doc standing there trying to think up new names bad enough to call him. Later in the 90’s Doc and Freddy along with three others formed a gang called “Doc’s Dawgs”, an 8-ball team. The other three were “Mick” Ramola, Denny “The Dog” Amundson, Wayne “The Rosedale Flash”, (Who Plays For Cash) Miller, and Shawn “Double Jump” Oglesbee. A side member of that team, just for fun, was called “the Coach”; He played in the NFL, for the New Orleans Saints as Wayne Beske, (Yeah, Right). We were all in Eveleth, Minnesota playing in the VNEA State 8-Ball Championship. During the course of play, Denny “The Dog” ran out to win a match game and “The Coach”, in front of the whole tournament crowd, held out his hands, as if grasping Denny’s shoulders and thrusting his pelvis sexually, Loudly Proclaimed, “That is My Roomy”. Denny’s face still gets red when reminded of this, unforgettable vigorous display of sports (or sex) ardor.
It was about in this same era that an unemployed Freddy was making all his expenses, for about a year, by winning weekly 8 and 9-ball tournaments all over the Twin Cities. His pocket billiard speed, at that time, was such that a few promoters would not accept his entries as he was, “Too Good” or had won, “Too Often”. Freddy saw the proverbial “Hand Writing On The Wall” And since coincidentally he got tricked into a real job, Freddy gave up a promising career as a “Professional” Pool Player and has been trapped in that working gig ever since. Some thought he was smarter than that, but he eats better now.
The old poolroom joke is, “How does a medium pizza compare to a professional pool Player? Neither one can feed a family of four”.
The gang slowly broke up. Denny and wife Irene semi retired to a Golf resort in western Kentucky where Denny plays golf as much as he can stand, but he doesn’t play pool, (There is only one commercial pool table in town and it is at the American Legion) and he doesn’t drink either as he is in one of Kentucky’s DRY Counties. Doc swears that Irene makes the best damn Biscuits and Sausage Gravy he has ever eaten. Never argue with a Fat guy about food. Okay, Denny actually isn’t retired, but you know how Doc lies, and since he doesn’t work very hard. Well you know, just enough to keep up with his Wal-Mart Credit Card, and a bookie or two. Mick Ramola just disappeared. Rumors that his wife left him buried under an interstate or maybe a building foundation are just rumors, we think. Shawn Oglesbee married a cutie pie named Candice and they are raising babies wholesale. The “Rosedale Flash” is still floating around the 8-Ball world. He is often quoted, “All I ask for is a fair spot”. When questioned, he always claimed he was in the automotive business, but the infamous Denny Hecker says, I never heard of him, and he can sue me for those bonuses. Mister Kline of Kline Auto World said, “Wayne Who”? Doc, his self, is one of those mythical characters who is part Ghost, part Legend (in his own mind), you decide. Just like “The Shadow”, you never know for sure. He is rumored to be somewhere out around a town called, (wait till you hear this) Coon Rapids!!! The Coach disappeared somewhere up into middle Minnesota. Some says that he is hiding out from an organized crime “Contract”. Good Luck with that Coach.
With the exception of the Coach, who is out of touch, and Mr. Oglesbee, who seems to have drifted into a more legitimate life style, the other four continue to be involved in spurious unidentified random activities at various locations, Las Vegas, Louisville, Spring Lake Park, Minneapolis, Iowa (different cities). There seems to be a strange bond at work Amongst Freddy, Doc, Wayne and Denny. Even though they have drifted away from organized weekly activity, and claim not to know each other, there seems to be random unscheduled actions involving two or more of them, through out any given year that is hard to pin down. When discussing any past, or future events and/or escapades, there is a hard to identify aura that creeps in to that discussion. We are trying to determine, what are they up to? If questioned directly, the investigator is met with the infamous “Thousand Yard Stare” and a small smile. A common denial is, “ I haven’t seen them guys for years”
Freddy always said, “Doc is the biggest damn (liar) pool story teller I know”. Doc says, “Think about it, why tell a story if it isn’t true, unless your telling jokes”, which is a whole new category. Doc, when pressed, Said, “I can spot most guys the 7 and the break when it comes to pool stories, But Freddy is a scratch player in that story telling game, and it’s “6 to 5 and Pick-em” when he and I match up”. Doc was also heard to mumble, “He is so full of poop, his eyes are brown”. When they get together, and square off, it’s stand back and listen, what you hear is fact & history, except for maybe a lie or two!!!
Freddy’s wife, Stacy, poor girl, she has at least as bad an aptitude at picking men as Doc’s wife, and we all know what Martie got stuck with. Stacy is not only a decent pool player, and damn good looking, but she and Freddy are also playing “Let’s Make Babies” and they seem to be good at it. Doc’s attractive wife has to put up with puzzled looks and has had to explain, “No he is not my dad”. Some times she just says, “How about those Vikings”.
The Minneapolis Billiard Club has risen above the so-called owners reputations to a respectable place in our Billiard Society. It has to be experienced to be appreciated. What have these three guys put together? It is more than Carom & Pocket Billiards. It is life, camaraderie, ambiance, atmosphere and a sense of, “Damn, do I feel at home here”, with all our part time friends. When you walk in, (don’t forget your bread crumbs to get back to the car), You are greeted by, the classic, “Hi, How you Do’ in”, or Doc’s favorite, “Whatchu know good”. The correct answer to Doc is “All the time, just the same, not much”.
Would you believe these guys sell pop and candy on the Honor System?? I was beating them pretty good on that game when they put the arm on me to help pay for the Pizza. Since I had two pieces in my hand, one in my vest pocket and was chewing on a fourth, I graciously kicked in five bucks. They gave a pointed stare at the empty pop cans and opened candy wrappers under my chair, but I think I skated, as I gave back an innocent gaze, and mumbled, “recycling is a must”.
During the course of this investigation, when I had to actually go into the club, I felt a warm welcome and satisfied when leaving. I did get hustled out of thirteen dollars & sixty five cents playing something called 3 ball and my wallet is missing and it took three hours to find my car, but damn did I have fun!
I will provide a short list of known associates that the casual customer should avoid; Rich, John, Eric, Dennis, Matt, Mike, Donny, Sam, Andy, Troy, and unnamed others. At least one of the members on the previous list is working undercover for the DEA, one for the CIA and another for the FBI. CR Billiards and The Two Stooges, were also represented. At least one of them is also a female, but when you line them all up it is impossible to pick her out. You will realize that in that group, she would be a real “Bow Wow”. Since they all Woofed a little, I could not use looks as criteria.
One very attractive young lady, (Just call me “Honey”), insisted that I play 8-ball with her and since I was winning, she racked the balls. She kept insisting that I check her rack to see if it was okay. My opinion, it was okay, Wink, Wink. I think there was a clothing malfunction, as while casually glancing at the triangle full of pool balls I couldn’t help but observe, above her low cut sagging blouse, a beautiful valley between two gentle sloping hills leading to what was probably a navel installation (damn my military background), area further down that valley. I was so overcome by the landscape topography that I got dizzy. The young lady was very nice, helped me sit down and gave me gentle massage as I tried to compose myself. Damn did she smell good. She also seemed to feel good, all over, better than anywhere else. Analytical reflection later made me realize that as she walked me out to the door, still giving various light massage, this is probably when my wallet disappeared.
Further reports will be generated as info trickles in.
This report has been prepared by,
Lamont Cranston,
AKA The Shadow, AKA the Doctor