Bobby Rush sang, She's alright, she's alright and blew into his harp held tight to the green monster.
I found myself silently tapping my foot to the music as the wet streets glowed in the neon night. Nothing feels better than to have nowhere to be and a pocket full of money. The choices were all mine and I could afford to do whatever I chose. I wanted some excitement, a woman, a fight or both. The trip from Singapore was long and boring aboard the big freighter but you can't spend your pay at sea. I had almost three months pay to get in trouble with when I finally walked off the ship in San Francisco.
I got a room on Haight Street and dropped my duffel bag. It was a rough neighborhood but I can take care of myself. Beside, I'd rather lose my money to somebody with the balls to rob me than to some overpriced hotel. I was looking for some action and there's no action in playing it safe.
The room seemed clean enough for my taste. Anything is better than the steel bunk on a freighter. There was even a nice painting on of some cows eating grass. I might have had a picture of a Greek statue in one of more expensive places. I liked the cows just fine and then I noticed something wet in the middle of the painting. I move in for a better look. It was either phlegm, or seaman. I decided it was seaman. The painting was over the bed. The guy had to have been standing on the bed...I decided not to think about it. I got my money back and checked into a place with a picture of a Greek statue and a chocolate on the pillow. But what the fuck. I had three months pay to burn up. I ate the piece of chocolate and called the front desk. I asked for directions to the nearest billiards hall.
I ended up at a place called King Kong. You had to be buzzed into the place and the first thing I could think of was where is the back door to this joint. I headed straight for the old guy behind the counter and introduced myself. He made a few phone calls and came back. “I've got a guy who likes nine ball and straight pool or one pocket. He'll be her an nine tonight. I get ten percent and referee the games. I also hold all bets. If you can't put up the cash the game is over. The guys name is Shultz. You better bring you good game.”
I thanked him for the service and picked up a table in the back. I shot a few games and everything felt good. Sometimes a layoff can be good for the game. They don't have pool tables on freighters. A young guy was watching me play. Finally he asked if I wanted to shoot a few game for Five bucks a piece. The kid was trying to hustle me but I knew the hustle and turned it around on him and walked out of there eighty bucks on top. That almost covered my room so I decided to treat myself to a fine dining experience before my game.
The food on board a freighter is not terrible but it is monotonous and unexciting. It's made worse by the fact that there's not much to do but watch movies and eat, so if eating is boring...well...you get the picture. San Francisco is full of good food and I found a place that served Thai food and had a chicken with red curry and coco nut. I thought about buying some red curry to take back to the cook on board ship, but I decided he was dangerous enough with salt and pepper. Most of the things that came out of his kitchen passed through a microwave oven on it's way to the plate, and in my opinion, no combination of food tastes worth a shit coming out of a microwave. I read somewhere that a plant watered with water that has been microwaved will die because the life giving properties in the water have been destroyed. So what happens to food that's been waved? I decided to think about my upcoming pool game. I play a good game of pool. My father owned a pool hall and I spent a lot of time there growing up among people who made a living hustling. I learned from the best. T once told me while I was being beaten soundly by a much better player, "You don't have to be the best player to win. You have to be the smartest." He followed that up with, "if you can't put your ball in the hole, put your opponent in one." Advice that still serves me well.
There was a back room at the pool hall that was closed off from the rest of the parlor where after hours games were played for big money. But only after closing time when the rest of the place was dark. It was invitation only. Games were set up in advance and big money changed hands. There was excitement and danger in those games. Anytime big amounts of money are being tossed back and forth there is the possibility of trouble which is why matches were invitation only. But I pity anyone foolish enough to try and rob these games. The players were scary, but the people who had the money, who backed the players, were not people to take lightly. Rich fat men with diamond pinky rings had three hundred pound body guards with bulges under there jackets to discourage anyone with crazy plans to get rich quick. I wasn't concerned with any of that. I had my own money for one thing. That's unusual for a pool player to back himself. I suspect this Shultz guy I was to play would have a backer complete with entourage, but I just planned to win or lose a gentlemanly game. Win or lose I would leave on good terms. Playing with my own money takes a lot of pressure off the game for me. I've played with a nervous gangster's money before and it can take you out of your game. On the other hand, If I lose every penny, I just go back to the ship. I have no wife to complain to me about losing the rent. Don't get me wrong. Losing sucks. But you can't win playing with scared money. I put it out of my mind and play off the other guys anxiety.
After dinner I took a long walk. I stopped in a favorite bar, had a drink and scored a bag of Weed from the bartender. He used to be my brother in law and before that, my best friend. Still is.
I rolled one and smoked it in the alley behind the bar before walking over to king kong for an hour of warmup before my game. The ball was rolling nice. My banks were dead and my masse and jump shots were not bad for a guy who just spend most of the last six months at sea. I was ready for whatever they could throw at me. If the this guy Shultz was too good for me I would play safeties until the balls started rolling my way. I expect him to do the same. For me it's not about the money. The money is there to create some pressure. I want to play my best game and I want Shultz's best game.
There has to be something riding to get that.
The lights on my table flashed off and on so I looked to the front desk. The old man waved me over to meet Shultz and his entourage. A couple of his boys would look completely natural with there faces in a feed bag. The Backer, or the guy with the money, was a smallish fellow in a suit that I could buy with a months pay. He introduced himself as Moe Shiner. He wore the expression of a man who knew how to get what ever he wanted. And judging from his goons, he would do what ever it took. Shultz was a lean fellow. He wore tinted glasses and combed his hair in a D/A. He was a good twenty years my senior. I took that to be my advantage. Before we headed for the back room I made a point to go to the mens room to see if there was a window. There was. I tried to open it. No luck. It had been painted shut. I told myself to quit being a pussy and focus on pool and I wouldn't need any daring escapes. Besides what I left in the safe at the hotel, I had 16 grand to play with. I'd be happy to go home with that much. But my first thought was that I had already lost it all. The game was only a formality. That way I don't get upset when I'm down a few grand. I make my peace with it before we start. And if I get ahead, I can look for the backers breaking point. You can't quit with the other guy's money in your pocket. He had to be the one to throw in the towel.
The old man explained the rules and we started off with some nine ball for a hundred a game. Shultz won the lag and ran the first three tables before I got a shot. On the fourth rack he scratched on the break and I ran out. I had evened the score when Moe suggested we up the bet to $500 a game. I agreed but insisted on a race to three and play sets. Shultz won the first set 3-1 and I was down five Benjamin's. It went back and fourth like that till midnight when I got hot and went up five grand.
At that point Moe's had a private chat with Shultz. When they came back Moe suggested a race to ten for everything. I didn't want to do it. I knew I was hot but I had played a lot of pool to be up five grand and Moe was trying to rattle me and get even in a set. I didn't want to do it. Not because I had doubts, but because if I win, i'm up ten. I don't know how I get out of here if I'm up that much. Moe has thugs.
I'm just little ole me. Oh, sure. I have stiletto in my pocket but judging from the bulges under the arm of Moe's help. It would only make things worse. But I agreed. What the fuck?
To make a long story short; I won that set 10-4 and now I'm up fifteen and feeling...well, I had mixed feelings. Like I was way ahead but I could end up needing twenty thousand in reconstructive surgery.
Shultz shook my hand after the match and I was thinking it might be over when in walks Terry McGovern. Last time I heard McGovern had turned pro and was rated 20th in the world. I had that sinking feeling.
"I'm bringing in some new blood," Moe said. "You don't mind, do you?"
What could I say. I still had his money. "I beat your guy and now you bring in a pro. And all nice and rested at that. Doesn't seem fair to me." I said.
Moe just glared at me and said nothing.
"All right then, Moe. Let's do a race to ten for five again. I'll give McGovern fifteen minutes to warm up
while I take a short break. Everyone agreed and I headed to the bathroom wishing more than ever that I could open that window. I washed my face and hands and sat in a stall and rolled a joint. I was sitting there smoking it when McGovern walked in.
"Jesus man. Are you getting high before we play?" he said.
I offered hm the joint.
"No thanks man. I'm playing with Moe's money. If he thinks I lost cause I'm high I'll have to trade my jock strap in for a Kotex. But you go ahead and smoke up."
I took a long drag and put the rest away. "Pretty unfair of him bringing in a pro after I beat Shultz." I said.
"Yeah. I know. But he called me and tells me the deal and if I ever want him to back me again I better get down here. So here I stand. And I'm going to win so you can make it fast or you can stall. But you know that when we leave here tonight Moe's going to be ahead."
This pissed me off to no end. I'm all about losing like a gentleman, but I'm not about to be intimidated into lying down.
"I'll tell you what McGovern. I'm going to play lights out pool and let you figure out how to deal with Moe and his goons." I walked out leaving McGovern shaking his head in disbelief.
When I came out of the bathroom the place was dark. The old man had just let out the last of the regular customers and locked up. If I wasn't careful I could end up leaving in assorted trash bags at the end of the night. I mean, there's always that risk. I wasn't too concerned until Moe brought in McGovern. I saw something in his eyes that said be careful.
We lagged for the break and I won this one. I broke and ran out and proceeded to take the first three in a race to ten for ten. Moe was feeling impatient and over confident. I was pissed off and in no mood to lie down. McGovern whispered to me as he came to the table.
"Are you fucking nuts man? Just get even and quit before you end up in the harbor."
McGovern evened the score at the score at three each and I took the next two. McGovern came to the table and evened it out again, plus another three before scratching . He was on the hill and I was one game away from losing ten grand if I wasn't sharp. I slowed way down and took two games and played a killer safety after the break that McGovern couldn't get out of. Ball in hand for me and I took the set.
I'm now up twenty five Gs and Moe has murder in his eyes. I don't know if it's for me or McGovern. Probably both. Moe had another conference and says he wants to bump up the bet to twenty grand this next set. He's thinking the big number will rattle me. I was only hoping it didn't show. I went to the head and washed my face and gave myself another pep talk. McGovern was a little pissed that I was beating him. Him being rated 20th in the world and all and me an unknown.
Things changed and McGovern won the next set 10-5 and now I was only up five, just like that.
"Another set for twenty?" Moe said. At these prices I could play one more set, but my pride got the best of me and I agreed. I called my friend at the bar and gave him a heads up to my situation.
"Quit now." he said. "You're still up five."
"You know the rules. I can't quit while I'm ahead."
"So play a set for five and get out of there with you head attached."
I hung up did some quick math in my head. If I lost this one I still had seven grand.
"What say we play this one for twenty-seven. You win and I'm out."
Moe smiled at me and we lagged. The old man brought in a cooler of beers and bottled water.