WANDERIN MAN
“HUSTLIN POOL”
You kin usually spot a shooter
by the way he handles his cue
an if’n ya watch a while
ya kin tell if his aim is true .
You’ll know by the way he reacts
when he thinks that you ain’t lookin,
or the way he pay’s attention
when you really get to cookin.
Some will over react
on every intentional miss,
or use a little extra English
to create a double kiss.
They’ll chalk after every shot,
or maybe hardly ever.
They’ll make it really obvious
or maybe they’ll be really cleaver.
Some will be real outspoken,
other’s you’ll think are shy.
Some will dress real fancy
others look to be jist gittin by.
They’re all a fishin jist like me,
each miss, more bait on the hook.
But, what they jist don’t realize,
I’m the one that writ that book.
There’s times when my cash abounds,
other times when it’s kinda lean,
I might be flyin high,
or somewhere in between.
There’s some things I won’t risk,
startin with my honor an my pride
then there’s jist one more thing,,,
I’ll never risk my ride.
So those times I don’t have no cash
and I cain’t find myself a backer,
I have to play for peanuts
even if he’s jist a hacker.
Jist cain’t take the chance
that I might lose my bike,
it’s kinda like my home,
without it I’d have to hike.
But, when my bank is right,
I’ll buy into their hustle,
though ya have to pick yer spots
I like to avoid a tussle.
Mostly I roll with the punches,
go for the easy score.
Usually the stakes are meager,
rarely 20 bucks or more.
But, after a couple hours
at 20 bucks a pop,
if yer in his pockets deep
he’ll prob’ly be gittin hot.
Ya have to lose a few,
sometimes several in a row.
An sometimes you need an appointment,
jist someplace you have to go.
You need an exit strategy,
some reason you cain’t stay.
I like to leave em friendly
with the promise of another day.
The way I finally end it,
depends on if I’m comin back.
Sometimes I’ll jist hang up my cue
simply put it in the rack.
If opportunity presents its self
maybe I’ll make a new friend,
ya never really know
what lies round that bend.
Meanwhile the friendly hustler
will dangle from my string
and I’ll store away his cash
while I await the comin spring.
To be continued.....
Copyright © 2011 Richard Lee King. All Rights Reserved.
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After I was paralyzed, I switched from shooting right-handed with a lot of English, to left-handed with a soft touch and no English (couldn't put a spin on the ball). One partner I have played with a lot would sink the seven balls for me and I would deliver the coup de grace with the eightball, to our opponents' disgust. They always thought they could beat us with one partner being a cripple.
A friend of mine's brother, from India, a gambler and stylized hustler, challenged me once (no bet, just honor). After I beat him six straight games, he gave up. Later, when he lost all of his money gambling, I paid for a bus ticket to send him back to his brothers home 1000 miles away. A few years later he paid me back for the bus ticket and his brother's insistence.
On another occasion I was with one of my students in a bar and he challenged me “for a beer.” Once again I beat him six straight games and he almost broke his pool cue and discussed over losing. Never lost to a hustler, mostly because they wouldn't play with the cripple. Or would they? Got taken in poker once.
Ron
Anna
I used to think I was a shooter, found out I was, but not nearly as good as I thought. Also saw a man almost beat to death in New Orleans with his own cue in a blind alley where he had made the mistake of running to after being caught cheating.
Donna