THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, September 26, 1995 TAG: 9509260385
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ED MILLER, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 151 lines
In the windowless back room of Q-Master Billiards in Norview, where the regulars play, the clock appears to have stopped around 1953. Black-and-white photos adorn the wood-paneled walls. The predominant smell is of cigarette smoke. The main sounds are the clack of balls well-struck and the soft patter of cards being shuffled, from behind a partly concealed stall along one wall.
There's also the sound of poolroom commerce being conducted.
``Tell you what,'' says a regular named Mike to his latest victim. ``I'm going to give you a chance to win back your money. . . .''
``You can cut the atmosphere with a knife,'' says Barry Behrman, the proud owner. ``A lot of people consider (Q-Masters) the best old-time pool room in the country. Playing pool there is like playing golf at Augusta.
``It's just not as pretty as Augusta.''
About 10 miles away, at the ballroom of the Holiday Inn in Chesapeake, the game is the same but the scene is much prettier. All this week, while the U.S. Open 9-ball championship is in town, the place will be bright with television lights and much of the behind-the-scenes talk will be of market-share and sponsorships and the products available from the vendors who set up shop in the lobby.
This, too, is Behrman's creation. The 49-year-old Norfolk native, who learned his trade in the city's long-gone downtown poolrooms, has made a good living straddling the line between pool's colorful - some would say seedy - past and a future in which the sport's organizers hope to win the blessing - and bucks - of corporate America.
Behrman opened his first pool hall in 1971 with a $3,000 investment. He now employs 33 people at two Q-Masters locations and is preparing to open a third store in November. He founded the U.S. Open in 1976 and has turned it into the most prestigious 9-ball tournament in the world.
Behrman is also torqued tighter than one of Minnesota Fats' undershirts. Nervous energy shoots from his compact frame and scatters around him like balls exploding on a break.
``I'm not the type who can sit down,'' Behrman says. ``I have to be physically active and on my feet.''
It's all Behrman can do, then, to park it for a couple of hours to talk about his career. The setting is his house in Kempsville, the only one on the block with an $80,000 Acura sports car in the garage. Behrman, who is divorced, works from his kitchen table and the conversation is interrupted frequently by the trilling of a cellular phone.
On the wall is a calendar counting down the days to the U.S. Open. The countdown started this year at 98. On the table is a notebook with a list of 103 details to take care of before the tournament starts. Behrman expected the list to grow to about 120 before the tournament started. He takes care of each one himself and then checks it off the list.
``I strive for perfection,'' he says. ``I love to cover every detail. I have notes everywhere.''
Details. Ask the regulars in the back room at Q-Masters and they'll tell you that's why they consider Behrman's pool room the best around. The tables are brushed every night. The service is good, the prices reasonable.
And yet amidst the general satisfaction in the back room is a sense that Behrman is nevertheless working the angles. Maybe it's just poolroom cynicism - the concept of win-win economic relationships is foreign here. Maybe it's the force of Behrman's personality. But as one regular puts it: ``Barry's a nice enough guy. But when you deal with Barry, you get the feeling Barry's coming out ahead.''
Well, isn't that why you play? Why you go into business?
Behrman's been coming out ahead for decades. As a wrestler at Frederick Military Academy in Portsmouth, he went undefeated. His father sent him to Frederick to prepare him for college, but Behrman wanted to work, wanted to have money in his pocket.
Behrman found work as a printer, but found his life's passion at St. Elmo's, a poolroom in downtown Norfolk.
This was the mid-1960s, and St. Elmo's was in its waning days, but it was still a frequent haunt of players like Luther ``Wimpy'' Lassiter, a former world champion from Elizabeth City. There was plenty of action for those seeking it.
Behrman played day and night for six years - and not just for the fun of it.
``I used to play for a little bit of money,'' he said. ``I wasn't a heavy gambler but I was good enough to play some serious pool. I won about 90 percent of the time I got down to playing.''
But while Behrman was a small-time hustler of the game, he long ago put down his cue and started hustling for the game.
Behrman opened his first pool hall, called Paddle & Cue, in 1971. That same year he traveled to Chicago to watch the U.S. Open Straight-Pool Championship. He returned for the next several years.
``That was the game,'' he said.
But 9-ball was up-and-coming, and Behrman wanted to stage a similar event for that game.
``I loved the name U.S. Open so much,'' he said. ``I called the National Billiard News and asked them if anybody was using the name. When they said no, I said, `Put me down, I want it. I'll call you back with the dates.' ''
Behrman held the first U.S. Open in the back room at Q-Masters. There were 16 players and a total prize pool of $10,000.
``I remember him going around in the crowd and collecting $2 admission, with his apron on, with change, handing money back and forth,'' said Steve Mizerak, a pool legend best known for the beer commercials he did in the 1980s. ``Barry started off small, and he worked hard.''
Behrman kept the tournament at Q-Masters until 1984, when he moved it to the Lake Wright Resort and convention center. With the spectators no longer drinking his beer and eating his food, Behrman lost his shirt that year.
``I lost $10,000 and I didn't have it,'' he said. ``I went out and borrowed the money, of course. I've always paid off the players.''
Back to Q-Masters. Then back to Lake Wright for a couple of years. Finally, in 1991, ESPN called. The network was willing to televise the tournament if Behrman could find a hotel ballroom with 14-foot ceilings. That's how the tournament ended up at the Holiday Inn.
These days, the U.S. Open is the premier event on the Professional Billiards Tour, outshining even the world 9-ball championship.
``Why? It's Barry,'' Mizerak said. ``Most of the players have known Barry for 30 years. I've known Barry for 30 years. He's been fair to everybody, he's been nice to everybody. I believe the players respect that. I know I do. That's why I keep coming.''
On a Pro Billiards tour in which many events are here-one-year-gone-the-next, Behrman and the U.S. Open are constants. That's one reason the world's best players keep coming, says Mike Panozzo, the editor of Billiards Digest, the sport's bible.
``Barry's one of those type of guys who has a zillion friends wherever he's at,'' Panozzo said. ``He's always had an excellent relationship with the players, and they wouldn't think of missing his tournament.''
This year's field will include more than 100 players, who'll compete for $100,000 in prize money. The winner will take home $20,000.
But for Behrman, the action away from the tables will be as much fun as the competition on them. Like any long-running event in a tight-knit community, the U.S. Open is as much social event as sporting event. For Behrman, who is in the hospitality business, after all, it's the best week of the year.
``The U.S. Open, it's good for my business,'' Behrman said. ``But the U.S. Open is more fun than anything else. Everybody leaves happy - players, spectators, sponsors.
``When I see Bob and Joe - and Bob lives in Florida and Joe lives in California - and they embrace at the U.S. Open, that makes me feel good.''
So as the Open was approaching last week, Behrman, despite all the last-minute preparations, was preparing, clearing his mind of all distractions.
``I haven't been going into work as much, because I want to keep my mind fluid, sharp, keen,'' Behrman said. ``I don't want anything to distract me from being the happiest man on the face of the earth, from September 26th to October 1st.''
You get the feeling that nothing could. ILLUSTRATION: Color staff photo by Paul Aiken
Barry Behrman's things-to-do list started at the begining of the
year with 103 items. He takes care of every tournament detail,
checking them off one by one as they're completed.
by CNB