Sunday, November 20, 2005

A Pool Poem: Mickey and the Wild Eight

Mickey and the Wild Eight
by Ace Toscano

Don't play with little Mickey,
That pleasant Irish lad -
He's got a charming way of talking,
But his coping skills are bad.

I bumped into him at Chalkie's
Just the other day.
He offered me the wild eight.
I shot back, "Sure, let's play."

When he fell behind three to one,
He swore the table was at fault.
So we moved from two to three
Where I continued my assault.

Determined to expose me
To all his sharking tricks,
He vacationed to the men's room
Then moved the game to table six.

If you're seeking the worst table,
Table six is it.
It's just inside the entrance
And there's no safe place to sit.

Foot traffic rumbles back and forth
Through the ever-swinging door.
And everybody stops to chat,
"Who's winning?" "What's the score?"

Down two sets and dying,
Mick's attitude got meaner.
Then he choked as I hopped up -
T'was a concession misdemeanor.

He called me on it - I owned up
And offered him the game.
But, he kept on losing,
So, of course, my sharking was to blame.

Play ended with me three sets up,
But he only paid me two.
Next time he offers the wild eight,
I'll tell the lad, "Go screw!"


© Ace Toscano 2005

1 comment:

SleezySteve said...

I got a laugh out of that one, just last night i watched a guy play my buddy for 25 cents a ball and a buck on the nine. Got up 14 bucks and my buddy offered double or nothing, this was repeated till 112 bucks, where my buddy took him 3 zip. They had agreed loser would buy the time, but in the end, the youngin threw a tantrum which resulted in 2 broken house cues, his car keys across the room and his own cue burried against some near chess boards. Basically the young don't take well to losing money they don't have.