If there is a pool heaven, 200 people have found it at the Illinois Billiard Club, a private establishment nestled quietly in Willow Springs.
IBC is quite a contrast to the image of the old-time pool room. Visitors will find no scoundrels nor slit-eyed hustlers stubbing out cigarette butts on the floor. Instead of grimy windows, there are etched glass and mirrors. Elegant mahogany chairs line the walls, floors are spotless, and the smokefree room is filled with six pocket-billiard tables and two carom (pocketless) tables covered with imported fabric and valued from $8,000 to $25,000 each.
The legendary Rudolph “Minnesota Fats” Wanderone and Willie Hoppe could well be here in spirit, nodding their approval at how pocket billiards has survived a roller-coaster reputation to become an esteemed sport of ladies and gents of the southwest suburbs. Only the serious take aim with their sleek and elegant cue sticks, displaying the skill and determination that shatters the shabby image pool halls have garnered over the decades.
“Originally, back in the 1800s, billiards was a very popular pastime,” said Jim Parker, owner of the Illinois Billiard Club that is a second home to its 200 members, city and suburban players who travel to 84th and Archer Avenue every day. “And you have to remember that there was no television, no radio, and not all of the activities that you have today. Billiards was a source of recreation then. A lot of homes were fashioned with billiard rooms.”
Now even the yuppies have discovered its cleaned-up image and pay Parker the $150 annual dues and $3 an hour table time for the privilege of playing on such historic tables as one designed by Frank Lloyd Wright that’s valued at $25,000, or a 1961 Brunswick Gold Crown table once owned by former Cubs pitcher Milt Pappas.
Above each of the tables is a long neon light with a yellow shade and fringe that shivers ever so slightly whenever someone reaches with a cue to slide along a wire a bead that indicates the score. The resurgence of billiards has been painstaking, with mixed emotions by pros and amateurs alike.
Parker remembers what it was like after he graduated from St. Mel’s High School on Chicago’s West Side in 1958. He was working the third shift as a room clerk at the Conrad Hilton downtown and took evening classes at the American Academy of the Arts. With two hours to kill between work and school, Parker found himself wandering into a well-known pool hall called Bensinger’s on Randolph Street in downtown Chicago.
“It started decaying in the 1950s,” Parker said of the old-time pool hall, “but I had two hours with nothing to do and found myself at Bensinger’s. The environment at that time was very downtrodden, and it was clearly an end of an era.”
Parker believes that billiards suffered an image and industry setback after World War II when men working to rebuild the American economy had little time to shoot pool. It was a “terrible loss” to the billiard industry, Parker noted, “but the men had to build their homes and families. It was after that when billiards hit the bottom, about the mid- to late ’50s.”
That’s when Parker began seriously to consider removing the sport from the taverns and dirty halls to give it a touch of elegance. Creating a private club became Parker’s ambition, and he began making his plans, especially after the success of the film “The Hustler” starring Paul Newman.
Parker, an electrical contractor who owns Quality Electric Corp. in Arlington Heights, saw his dream materialize in 1976 when he invested $30,000 of his own money and took a two-year lease at 103rd Street and Pulaski Road on Chicago’s Southwest Side. The popular spot began to get crowded, so in 1978 Parker moved Illinois Billiard Club to 2435 W. 71st St., where he filled it with refurbished tables from the old Beverly Bowl at 93rd Street and Ashland Avenue.
Three years ago he moved again, this time to the Willow Springs location where he spaced out the tables and added Bonnie’s Country Cafe and Deli, a quaint eatery next door named for and run by Parker’s wife. As evidence of the establishment’s upscale following, the cafe is attracting a number of banquets (seven in a recent week), some black-tie, from clients such as MacNeal Hospital in Berwyn and Hawkinson Ford in Oak Lawn.
Another of Parker’s businesses, Van Ker Studios, provided the etched glass for the club as well as other restaurants and businesses.
Busy as he is, Parker is meticulous about the care and upkeep of his tables. Each table, weighing about 3,000 pounds, is perfectly level. Wool cloth for the pocket billiard tables is imported from Vervieres, Belgium, and a sheerer cloth for the carom tables is from Granito, Spain.
“It’s a misconception that the tablecloths are made of felt,” Parker said. “It’s either going to be nylon or wool.”
After all, the sleeker the cloth, the faster the ball action, he explained.
IBC’s boom came about 1980 when the film “Baltimore Bullet” was released, starring James Coburn. Parker tied promotional activities into the film, sponsoring a tournament called the Baltimore Bullet Open that drew players from 24 states. Also, “The Color of Money” in 1986 added to pool’s resurgence.
Today, there are no fewer than 35 varieties of pocket billiards and carom, according to the Billiard Congress of America. Players at IBC, 90 percent of whom are men, favor 14.1 continuous (playing rack after rack of balls and shooting any ball at any time), 9-ball (a fast, rotation game in which the balls must be knocked into the pockets in numerical order) and three-cushion billiards (a carom game in which the cue ball must ricochet off three cushioned side rails before hitting the object ball). Members also compete in in-house leagues and national tournaments.
Providing leagues, lessons and good-humored competition is the lifeblood of IBC as well as the industry nationwide, Parker said.
“Without those ingredients,” Parker said, “people would just lose interest. Players must have some level of competition to know whether they are doing it right and know that at what level they can ask, `How good am I?’ “
Those who would like to test their skills can get an IBC guest card for $3 (plus $3 an hour table time), good for three visits to the club. After that, guests can become members for the $150 fee. Lessons are $21 a session.
One of the oldest IBC members is Marshall Kirk, 87, who can recall how the industry pendulum has swung back to favor pocket billiards.
“In the old days, the game was about a hustler in a small town looking for a buck. He was a pool (an uncomplimentary term as opposed to billiards) player, and he was a different type of person,” explained Kirk, an Evergreen Park resident. “There was no TV to keep the people home. Men were always out and billiards could be a place where men congregated.”
Kirk began playing at age 9 in his hometown of Clinton, Ill. His father owned a billiard parlor, and Kirk helped rack the balls for the players as a summer job. When his father wasn’t around, Kirk began shooting his own game. In 1927, Kirk played in his first tournament at Bensinger’s and made it to the semifinals.
He also recalled it was a time when “women just didn’t go in there. They didn’t even go into the bowling alleys.”
Today, women are becoming prominent players nationwide, including two, Dorothy Wise and Jean Balukas, who were inducted into the Billiard Congress of America’s Hall of Fame.
Two female members of IBC have found the Willow Springs establishment a refreshing change from the raunch of taverns and noisy arcades. Pam Tallman of Joliet said she learned the basics in college but didn’t become a serious player until she watched some women compete on ESPN cable.
“Now they’re friends of mine,” Tallman said. “I pushed the stick again and again and have gotten beaten a few thousand times. But I got better and got more confidence. One friend talked me into a tournament, and I got clobbered. But at least I got a taste for it, especially when I saw that the other people weren’t that much better than me. I was just scared to death, that’s all.”
She now ranks 16th in the country in the Women’s Professional Billiard Association, with her specialty in 14.1.
“It teaches you patience and finesse and has nothing to do with strength,” Tallman noted. “You’re on equal level with the men because they have no physical advantage over you in this game.”
Tallman, who is a carpenter, noted that it’s still “basically a male-dominated sport. But more women have picked up the game since `Color of Money’ came out.”
In the last six to eight years, more women have found that “they can play with the guys,” Tallman added. “There are a lot of pool halls where women are looked down upon because you’re taking table time away from the guys. If they don’t say it directly, they make you feel it.
“Frequently, it’s heard when they learn I can play and that I can play better than most guys, they’ll say `You play pretty good for a girl.’ “
Like most players, Tallman said IBC has been especially gracious to female players. “They have taught me more about pool than anywhere else,” she said. “And there just aren’t any secrets. If someone knows something, they’ll share it and won’t talk down to you. They don’t make you feel you’re intruding on their space.”
Without the loud drunks, music and game machines, Tallman said IBC is actually the country club of billiards.
Wayne Berry, 32, of Chicago’s Mt. Greenwood neighborhood, also enjoys the game for its skill and challenges. The computer technician began playing in the 5th grade, when his father bought a table. “I like the game because it’s always challenging, and you’re always getting better. There’s always something to learn from it,” Berry noted.
Most of all, Berry credits IBC with forging a new direction for pocket billiards and equates the club to a pool heaven.
“It’s an oasis compared to the bars,” Berry explained. “I believe a lot of people would have given up on the game if it wasn’t for the Illinois Billiard Club.”
