Wednesday, January 3, 2018 // The Statement
4C
Wednesday, January 3, 2018 // The Statement
5C
The pool hall, hustled out
Union renovations strip away 97 years of pool hall history
by Will Feuer, Contributor
T
he room is a labyrinth of
ancient tables, antiques still
in use. Above each one, fluo-
rescent lights puncture maize
and blue stained glass to reflect off the phe-
nolic resin balls. Blue cue chalk stains the
hands of the players and permeates the air
to create a haze. Chatter is drowned out by
the smack of balls. The archaic space heat-
ers moan and the greats who came before
us stand watch, framed in timeless wood,
nailed to the walls. The scratches and tears
in the 16 nine-foot Brunswick tables tell a
story longer than most at the University of
Michigan have been alive.
Few people know that when the Michi-
gan Union was erected in 1919, it boasted a
bowling alley, bar, swimming pool, barber
shop, hotel rooms and much more. Over the
century since, these amenities have slowly
been replaced by a computer lab, Starbucks,
Au Bon Pain, fast food chains and other
facilities that fill today’s Union. However,
one room on the second floor remains vir-
tually untouched, frozen in time and dis-
playing the Union’s winding story. As this
academic year ends, so too will the lingering
life of the historic billiards hall.
I spent hours every week — probably
every day — in this room my freshman
year. It is where I would unwind after a
long day and where I would bring people to
understand me a bit more. The green-felted
nine-foot Brunswick tables put the ratty
seven-footer my dad taught me to play on to
shame. This is my refuge, my paradise and
my home.
It wasn’t long before I was on the club
pool team. Yes, U-M has a team. In fact, U-M
hosts the largest college pool tournament
in the country, the University of Michigan
Team Pool Championships. My freshman
year, the UMTPC was the weekend of Hal-
loween. While my fraternity brothers were
doing what they do, I was locked in a heated
game of nine-ball until midnight against a
couple of students from Carnegie Mellon
University. I lost, we shook hands and they
asked me where the parties were.
That tournament is held every year, and
it’s bliss for those of us who crave the inten-
sity of calmly tapping safety shots for two
hours patiently awaiting a chance to run the
table in one foul devastating swoop.
OK, so it’s not football, but what pool
lacks in aggression and physicality, it makes
up for tenfold in strategy and tact. Though
far and few in between, there is a network
of individuals on campus who don’t just love
billiards but love the billiards hall. That’s
why I question the Union renovations slated
to begin this April, which will not only erase
the pool hall entirely but also devastate the
community surrounding it.
*****
When the Union closes for renovations
this spring, the University will sink more
than $85 million into the project over
two years. In planning the new and hope-
fully improved Union, the University
conducted surveys, town halls, intercept
interviews and more to gauge campus
and alumni opinion on what the Union
should be. In total, more than 350 stu-
dents, 500 alumni and almost 200 staff
offered input.
Driven by the results of those outreach
efforts, the administration is seeking to
expand space for student organizations in
the Union, said Susan Pile, senior director of
University Unions and Auxiliary Services,
who has been active in planning the renova-
tions. The University currently boasts over
1,500 student organizations, but fewer than
80 have office space, all of which is located
on the third and fourth floors of the Union.
While creating office space for student
organizations, the renovations will expand
Counseling and Psychological Services
and move some administrative offices to
the third and fourth floors. The student
org offices will move to the “IdeaHub,”
a planned co-working space that will be
available to all 1500 student organizations.
However, if demand is high, space may
become reservation-only.
What is certain is that the IdeaHub will
take over the space that has been the billiards
hall for 97 years, which has failed to turn a
profit in the past decade according to Pile.
“I think folks recognize that we are trying
to create a much more inclusive kind of space
for student organizations,” Pile said. “We are
going to maintain the historical details of the
space and we will tell the story of the billiards
room in the space to honor that legacy.”
The concept behind the IdeaHub origi-
nated in 2011 from the student-run Building
a Better Michigan, formed by the Michigan
Union Board of Representatives to advocate
for improvements to the Union. BBM has
significantly contributed to the Union ren-
ovation process, communicating directly
with the project’s architects.
“One thing that BBM really does is it
helps keep the renovations in a student-led
perspective because the University would
not exist had it not been for students here,”
LSA junior Jazz Teste said, a co-president
of BBM.
In 2013, members of BBM spoke before
the Board of Regents, claiming to repre-
sent all 17,000 LSA students despite being
unelected. The Regents then voted to add
a semesterly $65 “University Unions and
Recreational Sports facility improvement
fee” onto the tuition and fees of students
to go towards renovating campus facilities,
formally putting the gears in motion for the
Union overhaul.
“I do regret having to lose the billiards
room because it is a gorgeous and iconic
place in the Union. However, student lei-
sure activities have changed over the past
couple decades,” Teste said.
Teste said it’s unfair for the University
to pick and choose which student groups
receive the limited office space, and reiter-
ated the billiards hall has been unprofit-
able. The IdeaHub will eliminate the need
to parcel out space among eager student
organizations.
“It would come down to evaluating
them, which we currently do, but how
do you measure someone’s passion over
another?” she asked.
Being that it is precisely the administra-
tion’s job with these renovations, I put the
question to those who care most about the
billiards hall.
*****
“This place for me was one of my favorite
places on campus. It’s where I spent most of
my free time. I fell in love with pool and met
a lot of really cool people here,” Greg Web-
ster said, who graduated from LSA in 2016.
“I met my girlfriend here,” he added with
a bashful smile.
Webster is a self-proclaimed follower
of “The Dude” from “The Big Lebowski,”
though he’s replaced The Dude’s passion for
bowling with that of pool. His long blonde
hair and signature goatee are a testament
to his aesthetic, even if the Union doesn’t
allow White Russian cocktails. Webster can
be found in the pool hall almost everyday.
He is one of the first people I met at the Uni-
versity. In my freshman year, he convinced
me to try out for the team.
“It is what it is. I’ve kind of accepted
the fact that it’s going to be removed from
the building … They’re already looking to
sell everything,” he said in classic “Dude-
esque” fashion.
According to Pile, the University will
seek out other homes on campus for the
tables before trying to sell them off.
Webster understands the hall has been
unprofitable for at least a decade, but he
believes there’s value in the room that the
administration fails to see.
“If you come in here during the day, you
see people from all over the world coming to
play and you hear people speaking all types
of languages … Most of my friends who I
spend hours a week playing pool with are
from Asia. I’ve even learned some Chinese.
I could go to a pool hall in China and be able
to speak to them a bit,” he explained.
Webster was speaking not just about the
pool hall, but also to a much broader global
trend. While the once-hugely popular game
of billiards has steadily declined in the Unit-
ed States, the sport has taken off throughout
Asia, particularly China. At the turn of the
20th century, New Yorkers enjoyed more
than 4,000 billiards rooms. Today, there are
fewer than 30.
Shanghai was home to 200 billiards clubs
in 2008, a number that has since skyrock-
eted to 1,500. Pool academies have been
established in major cities throughout Asia
and today, six of the top 10 global pool play-
ers are from East or Southeast Asia, accord-
ing to the World Pool-Billiard Association.
“(The University) is trying to create all
these ‘global citizens,’ but then they get
rid of every sport that’s not ‘American,’”
Webster said. “This is where you’re able
to connect with people who you wouldn’t
normally connect with through this shared
interest in pool. This is where our cultures
meet and we’re able to bond over it.”
Mengyang Zhang, who graduated last
fall from the School of Engineering, echoed
that point. Zhang hails from the province
of Shanxi in China, and transferred to the
University three years ago from North Car-
olina State University. Discovering the pool
hall his first week on campus, the tight-knit
community helped him adjust.
Zhang went on to represent the Univer-
sity at the UMTPC for three consecutive
years, also competing every year to qualify
for the Association of College Unions Inter-
national Collegiate 9-Ball Championship. As
a founding member of ACUI, the University
has hosted their billiards tournaments doz-
ens of times, and this past summer they did
so again, knowing it would be the last in Ann
Arbor. Zhang placed in the top 16, but his
favorite part of the game is the relationships.
“Pool is a common interest for everyone
who comes here, so from the pool, we then
start talking about life and get to know each
other, different lifestyles and cultures. It’s
the start of the conversation,” he said over a
game of eight ball.
The University’s billiards club is the first
club Zhang joined on campus and three years
later, he still attends almost every weekly
meeting, loosely defining the term “meeting.”
Members of the billiards club convene every
Friday evening in the hall for a tournament.
The winner gets a free week of pool. Though
Zhang said he only competes to win when he
is feeling really good, he enjoys being with all
of his friends and afterward, they’ll go out for
dinner or a drink.
“If it’s possible, I definitely want this
pool hall to be kept. All my memories, all
the people I know, it all started here. Even
if they just move some to another room, if I
see one of the tables I can pick up the memo-
ries maybe,” he said. “This is where all my
memories are. There’s a story here.”
*****
The billiards hall has welcomed numer-
ous professionals over the years, including
Hall of Famer Nick Varner, and the legend-
ary Mike Massey. But perhaps today’s most
famous patron of the pool hall is Betsy
Sundholm, manager of the Student Organi-
zation Resource Center. Sundholm came to
the University as a freshman and hasn’t left
since. She became a full-time employee of
the Union in 1996. Not only is she friendly
with every regular, student and non-student
alike, but she has also created a huge network
across the country of collegiate pool players
through her masterminding of the UMTPC.
“I have so many memories of the bil-
liards room. It has played such a big role in
the person that I am. I got a job there as an
18-year-old kid and now I’m well into my
forties,” she said nostalgically. “I met my
partner of 27 years there ... he taught a pool
class and I was working behind the desk. He
was one of the best players in town and I had
a crush on him.”
Sundholm struggled to recall other
schools with comparable billiards halls,
adding that some schools without any tables
on campus have a flourishing billiards com-
munity, though they face massive hurdles.
“(Students from other schools) come
here and this is like Disney World to them,”
she added.
One of Sundholm’s favorite memories of
the pool hall is when one of the most recog-
nizable faces of professional pool, Jeanette
Lee or the “Black Widow,” came to play a few
racks in 1998. The billiards room partnered
with the Korean Student Association to bring
Lee, a Korean-American, to campus.
When it comes to the pool hall closing,
Sundholm has to separate her professional
duty from personal feelings. Pile, her boss,
sat in on our interview, perhaps to make
sure she did so.
“Square footage in Ann Arbor is a pre-
mium,” she said. “On a personal level, it
makes me sad, but professionally, I com-
pletely understand ... There will always be a
demand to some extent for people who want
to play pool, but I don’t think it’s going to be
what the billiards room is right now. Stu-
dent needs evolve, spaces evolve…”
But the evolution of the Union will not
just impact students. Whereas the billiards
hall is open to the entire Ann Arbor com-
munity, the IdeaHub will be exclusive to
students. Originally from Ypsilanti, Greg
Jackson has lived in Ann Arbor for about 23
years, but he’s been a regular at the pool hall
for even longer.
“I started playing when I was 15 years
old. All I wanted to do was play pool ... I was
here almost every day for about 20 years.
Almost every day,” he said. “It’s just the love
of the game.”
Jackson says he endured a rollover car
accident in 1995, which put him in a coma
and permanently damaged his brain, but
pool has helped him recover.
“I’ve learned to be patient. I’ve learned to
accept things ... Pool has trained me to think
about things in the long run. It’s trained me
to take my time to concentrate and not just
do the first thing that I see automatically.”
The billiards hall is not only Jackson’s
home-away-from-home, but he says pool
has taught him how to cope with a chaotic
neighborhood at times.
“It’s been a great run for me here. I’ve
loved every day that I’ve played here. I never
got into a fight here. I never got into so much
as an argument here. It’s just a peaceful
place. It’s a peaceful place,” he said.
Since it was constructed and opened up to
the public, the pool hall has been a corner-
stone of Ann Arbor, Jackson emphasized.
He, like others, understands the financial
turmoil of the room, but hopes the Univer-
sity can find another public space for pool.
“(The University) is focusing on educa-
tion and there’s nothing I can do about it, so
I have to accept it. I have to accept things I
can’t change and I can only change things in
certain circumstances,” he dejectedly said,
perhaps relaying a lesson he learned from
the game of pool.
*****
But it isn’t just players mourning the bil-
liards hall’s death. LSA senior Alexandra
Ngo has worked at the pool hall since her
freshman year as a work-study employee,
rising up the ranks to now serve as the facil-
ities and equipment manager.
“I’ve gotten to know everyone who comes
in this room. I know everybody’s first name.
I know what table they go to. I know what
class they’re coming from and what they’re
studying,” she said. “There’s a bunch of peo-
ple who have been here longer than some
students have been alive.”
Alex works about 30 hours a week along-
side the 10 to 12 other work-study students
who earn an income at the pool hall any
given year. Over her four years at the pool
hall, she has overseen weddings, bat-mitz-
vahs, bar-mitzvahs, “Sweet 16s” and many
more events.
“It breaks my heart because I didn’t even
know that the billiards room was included
in the renovations until I got back to campus
(this fall). And it breaks my heart every time
alumni come in and say ‘Wow, this room has
so much history,’” she said. “Coming in here
and just talking to the regulars or people I
recognize is one of my favorite things.”
Nguyen pointed out three distinctly mod-
ern tables in the far corner of the pool hall
and explained they are Diamond Tables —
the kind used in professional pool’s most
competitive tournaments.
“We just bought these tables. We need
a purpose for them ... This isn’t something
you’re going to see drunk as hell sitting at
Circus with people eating popcorn on them,”
she said, referencing Circus Bar & Billiards
on South 1st Street. “This is something that
people literally drive to Ann Arbor to use. We
are fighting to keep these in the building!”
Michigan Union employees declined to
give the exact amount the University spent
on the Diamond tables, but Sundholm says
the total amount was less than $20,000. The
fate of the tables are also uncertain as the
University seeks a new home.
Almost everyone I spoke to empathizes
with the University’s rationale for closing
the financially defunct pool hall, but Nguy-
en is unapologetically opposed.
“The University takes so much pride in its
history and we talk about tradition and cul-
ture on campus, but if we get rid of the bil-
liards room I call bullshit … (The pool hall)
is not only integral to U-M’s history, but also
the history of Ann Arbor, so fuck U-M if we
get rid of this.”
*****
This past summer I found myself in rural
Buriram, Thailand for a weekend. No one
spoke English, but everyone played pool.
When I got on the table, I shed the role of
strange foreigner and became just another
player, shooting alongside everyone else.
That bar, filled with smoke and tattered pool
tables scarred by usage and lack of mainte-
nance, was a far cry from the Union’s bil-
liards hall.
In a few short months, the billiards hall
will fall to the shadow of the Union, joining
ghosts like the bowling alley and swimming
pool. Pool will always be a part of my life,
though that may mean playing more often on
the unkempt tables down at Eightball Saloon
on South 1st Street. But I will never forget
the long days and late nights spent shooting
on table 8 overlooking State Street alongside
other wannabe hustlers, bonded by a shared
passion for pool.
This semester is likely your last chance to
shoot some racks in the same room as Michi-
gan’s greatest once did. Use the pool hall
late in the semester, and you may be the
room’s last.
Courtesy of Bentley Historical Library
Men play pool in the Union billiards room in 1937.
Amelia Cacchione/Daily
Photos of a visit by Jeanette Lee in 1998, a professional pool player known as “Black Widow,” hang in the bil-
liards room.