My Coronavirus Lockdown

Capone's Table 9

It's been a month since I played pool, maybe six weeks. I miss my daily trips to the poolroom and my practice sessions which on average lasted about 40 minutes. I would work on this and work on that, always playing by myself. When I first started playing in Florida, twenty years ago, I soon discovered that the old folks who occupied the tables in the afternoon didn't have any gamble in them, so I gave up asking if they wanted to play and got into the habit of practicing alone.

Where I grew up, everybody played for something, giving and receiving spots as the situation dictated. The only exception was when you played your sister. Then, you would just bang the balls around meaninglessly, which is what would happen if I got into a social game playing for nothing with one of the resident nits.

So, I practice by myself, still hoping to regain the skills of my youth when I would spot guys 25 to 50 in straight pool for a few bucks and the time. If you've never played straight pool, take my word for it – that's a tough game to win. I was a kid of 16 or 17, playing guys in there 20's who were out in the world working for a living. Of course, time is working against me – I'll be 73 in June; and, my vision keeps getting worse (cataracts); as do my tremors which at times shake my hands like an earthquake.

Nevertheless, I keep thinking I can get better. Now, I'm not altogether awful – I've dropped from a 7 to a 6 in APA and I think I'm a 5 in TAP – and I do have occasional flashes of brilliance, yet it's still disheartening to lose to players you know would have once ran and hid at the thought of playing you. Recently, displeased with my execution of long straight in shots, I adopted a new stance, more in line with that of snooker players who I enjoy watching on the internet. Same goes for my hold on the cue. I think that helped. But, not playing for what now seems like forever, is going to take a toll if I ever do find my way back to the poolroom. Right now, that seems doubtful.

I was one of the first, if not the first, to stop playing in our local leagues because to the coronavirus. Many league players bought the President's line that cries of alarm were a hoax, a leftest plot. They bitched about the league shut down and about quarantines. They're probably still bitching.

A couple weeks after I stopped playing, the leagues shut down. My preexisting conditions, diabetes and chronic lymphocytic leukemia, put me in real jeopardy. So, I've been pretty much holed up ever since then. So far, I'm okay.

Returning to the poolroom seems far away. I miss the game. I miss the people. But, I want to live and I don't know when or if I'll ever feel safe there again.

Double Hit Cue Ball Fouls

Rule 1: If you're a league player, when you sense that a cue ball foul is imminent, call time and request a hit watch by a knowledgeable third party. (doesn't pertain to bar leagues - bar league players don't generally care about double-hit fouls. They just bang away.)

I play in two leagues a week, one APA and one TAP, and situations where a possible double hit on the cue ball come up often. If it's my turn, I usually turn to my opponent at these times and ask if wants someone to watch the hit. I leave it up to them. Often they say no need we can watch ourselves. I've learned this is a mistake and won't go along with this self-policing any more. Though often a double hit is easy to detect, sometimes, it's just too hard to determine. Get a third party.

I was playing a guy last week in the TAP league who thought he was slick. I was thinking to myself, if he plays that 7 ball which was about a quarter inch from the cue ball, I'm going  to call for a hit watch. But before I could stop him, he took the shot without calling the ball - he just banged away. Well, I called the foul on him myself and took ball-in-hand. Of course, this nit said it was a good hit and that he shot at an angle. I said bullshit. The angle was about 3 degrees and the whitey flew around the table like no legal hit would allow. Besides, I saw and heard the double hit clear as day. Anyway, though it's against protocol, I wasn't going to let this guy get away with this shit. So, I called the foul myself.

Of course, old slicky was already on my list of dickheads from a couple weeks earlier. I was playing one of his teammates in APA while he was watching from the rail. I drilled his buddy 5-0 but after the 4th game while I was emptying the pockets and rolling them to the foot of the table, my opponent says, "The 3 ball moved." Well, the 8 ball was a wide open shot with no ball within 6 inches. So, I said, "What are you talkin' about?" He replies, "I'm not callin' you on it." And I reiterate, "What the fuck are you talkin' about. My shot on the 8?" Then he admits that he wasn't really paying attention but his friend, old slicky, had said something to him from the rail. So, like I said, I already had a low opinion of mr. slick.

Anyway, Dr. Dave has a video that explains pretty well the double hitting process. Watch it for your viewing pleasure:

Pool Tales & Poems and Other Stories by Ace Toscano

I've spent a lot of time in pool halls, in fact I grew up in one, and along with my penchant for writing things down, this has led me to write more than a couple pool stories as well as several poems. Selfishly, good or bad, I didn't want them to disappear once I was gone, so I decided to combine them, along with several non-pool-related stories, into a single kindle ebook. Hopefully, they will find a lasting home in cyber space.

Pool Tales & Poems and Other Stories

Season 1 - The Hustlers: A Review

Take some hot chicks who also shoot a pretty decent game of pool, make a reality show about them and it would seem you have a recipe for a hit show, at least a cult classic, and a show that could give the grand old game of pocket billiards a much needed shot in the arm. But, then you add some representatives of the male gender, representatives whose behavior should not be condoned in any pool room and certainly should not be broadcast on television where it might influence the behavior of people just getting into the game. Loud mouths, bullshitters and whiners who make unsportsmanlike conduct, sharking and downright cheating an everyday part of their games - that's just what we need more of. Knowing the popularity of the show among local pool players, I know it's only a matter of time before these yahoos start mimicking Gary, Ross and Finn. Oy vey!

Is this really doing the game of pool any good? I don't think so.

The only participants who manage to escape Season 1 with their honor in tact are Jennifer Barretta, Mike Dechaine and, though up to now she's played only a minor role in the show, Yomaylin Sanchez.

Amusingly, the season finale ended with Emily Duddy proclaiming that maybe now the other players would start taking her seriously. Why, because she won a couple matches after being spotted 5 games on the wire, plus the five ball? Sorry, maybe not that seriously, yet.

Charley Kutz - A New Guy in Town Replacing Cue Tips

For years, whenever anyone asked me who I'd recommend to replace their cue tip, I'd suggest they travel north to Capone's in Spring Hill and ask for Roger. But, now, for those who live in Pasco County and think Capone's is too far away, there's a new guy in town and his name is Charley Kutz. Charley's been working on cues for years for himself and friends, but he's only just now making his skills available to the public. Charley's a friend of mine and I'd trust him with my most precious stick. You should, too.

CK-CUE SERVICE (New Port Richey, FL) - Replace Cue Tips; Clean and Seal Shafts; Remove Dings; Straighten Warped Shafts. Call Charley Kutz between 12PM and 6PM

727-534-4192

John Bender Cues: Having a Little Fun with Boxes

Checking in with my friend, John Bender of johnbendercues.com, he sent along some pics of his latest creations. You won't be too surprised by the beauty and quality of John's work when you remember that prior to striking out on his own he had worked with Hall of Fame cuemaker Richard Black.

 In regards to his current work he says "Just having a little fun with boxes that go around corners. Black buffalo horn joint and cap. .015 nickel silver rings at the handle, cap, and joint." I like those boxes a lot.

Top Ten Pool Posters of 2013

Updated 10/26/2017. As of today, these are the best-selling pool and billiards posters of 2017:


1. Hustler by Arthur Sarnoff

2. Legal Action by Chris Consani

3. Game of Fate by Chris Consani

4. The Night Café by Vincent van Gogh

5. Change for a Dollar by Frank Morrison

6. Behind the 8 Ball

7. Pool Shark

8. Hey! One Leg On The Floor by Arthur Sarnoff

9. Billiards by Mollie B.

10. Billiards Patent Art Prints

Sneaky Pete Cues: A Matter of Taste

Though I had shot a little pool at the YMCA, where the walls were too close to the table on all four sides, and at a social club for kids that met afterschool downstairs at the First Memorial Presbyterian Church in Dover, New Jersey, I didn't really get into the game until I started going to Teasdale's Billiard Academy.

Typically, upon arrival, I'd search through the cue racks until I found my favorite cue. Since I wasn't an accomplished player - I was only 12 when I started going to the poolroom on a regular basis - I'm guessing my primary criteria were straightness and feel. Yes, I was one of those morons who rolled his cue on the table to see if it was straight, not realizing that any irregularity on the butt end would cause the cue to wobble, even if it was straight. And, I've always liked a smooth slick feel.

Since I was outside, waiting, every day when Teasdale arrived, he asked if I might want the job of helping him remove the covers from the tables on a daily basis. It wasn't a paying job, but he did offer to give me a half-hour free practice time in exchange for my assistance and that seemed like a pretty good deal to me.

It wasn't too long after that that he presented me with my own cue, an 18 ounce house cue that he had sanded down and given a new tip. It wasn't mine to keep, but it was mine to use whenever I wanted. He had written "Ace" on the butt and kept it on a special rack behind the counter.

Soon after that, he began selling "Willie Mosconi On Pocket Billiards." Following his suggestion, I bought a copy. I almost immediately began improving at an amazing rate. That book became my bible. By the time I was 15 I was running 50 balls in straight pool as easy as rolling off a log and making a pretty good allowance spotting older guys who were already out in the working world 15 or 20 balls in games to fifty points.

And through all that time I had that trusty house cue that Tizzy had customized for me. That's the feel I grew up with and most likely that's why I prefer that same feel today. In my Sunday-Goin'-To-Meetin' 3x6 Instroke cue case, I carry three cues. My regular playing cue is a Josey purple heart sneaky pete. I've used it a few years, now, and it has become as much a part of me as my first cue did 50 odd years ago.

I also carry a 90's vintage Meucci cue which has a wrap but since it's all varnished over it has a nice smooth feel. I remember an old friend of mine, Tennessee Joe, had a collection of Meucci cues. Whenever he played with one you would see him regularly applying powder to the shaft and the butt, just to maintain that smooth slick feel.

The third cue in my case, my break-jump cue, also is without a wrap. That's how I roll.

Now, I've been known to play in bars from time to time in leagues and in tournaments. I would never... NEVER bring my prime equipment into a bar. Not only because it's kind of dorky to beat up on bar players using a custom made stick, but because with all the metal on the tables and drunks wandering back and forth it's too easy to damage your equipment.

My favorite bar cue is a Falcon Sneaky-Pete I picked up back in 2006. It still looks and plays well. Before that I was using an Elite EP01 stick. It had a wood to wood joing and played pretty well but a piece of the cherrywood at the butt end broke off and, even though I reglued it with super glue, that bothered me and I wound up selling it to a guy one night for $20.

For several years I was content to use a basic $50 Players stick, but years of sanding reduced the shaft to the dimensions of a snooker cue and I started havin trouble controling old whitey, drawing it much farther than I intended.

For those thinking about buying a Sneaky Pete Cue, here are my thoughts. If you want a better stick, most of the custom cue-makers offer sneaky-petes. Go to their sites. Ask them. Like I said, I'm happy with my Josey and wouldn't trade it for anything.

As far as manufactured cues go, Predator, Meucci, Mezz and Joss each offer sneakies that look and play extremely well.

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Sneaky Pete Cues at Amazon >>

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Admittedly, pool cues are a personal thing. Some prefer sticks that look like they belong in a woodworkers museum. Others, like me, just want one that feels right and does the job. If you've never owned a cue before, buy a cheap one in the $50 to $100 range and see how you like it. Maybe it'll be all you need.

Willie Mosconi: The Greatest Ever

What was Willie Mosconi to the game of pocket billiards? What was Babe Ruth to baseball, Michael Jordan to basketball, Jim Brown to football, or Jack Nicklaus to golf? Willie Mosconi was all that to the game of pocket billiards, and then some. He enjoyed that exalted distinction fifty years ago, when I was a lad first getting into the game, and in all the intervening years, no one has come close to supplanting him.
His achievements are legend:

• From 1941 through 1956, a period of 15 years, he won the world championship 13 times.
• In 1954, in an exhibition on a 4 ft x 8 ft table, he ran an unprecedented 526 balls.
• In 1956, he disposed of opponent Cowboy Jimmy Moore in a single inning, by running 150 balls on a 4 1/2 x 9 table.
• And to verify that Willie excelled on all tables, he also holds the record for high tournament run on a 5 ft x 10 ft table at 127. That distinction he shares with Jimmy Caras.

Willie Mosconi was born in Philadelphia in 1913 in the second-floor apartment in a house at Eighth and Wharton Streets. He appeared destined for a stage career as a member of the Dancing Mosconis, a troupe that included several family members and began dancing lessons at his uncle's studio at Fourth and Arch Streets.

When he was 6, he discovered the pool table in the corner of his uncle's studio and, almost immediately, he displayed an affinity for the game.

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In fact, he showed so much promise that his uncle took him to a club in New York to show off his skills. A poster dating from this period touted Willie as an 11-year-old ''Boy Wonder."

His father, Joseph, however, was not impressed by his son's proficiency. The elder Mosconi, a former boxer, ran a gymnasium on the first floor of the family home. In the back were four or five pool tables. But, the only chance young Willie got at the tables was when his father, a Phillies fanatic, locked up on Fridays and dashed off to the Baker Bowl to watch a game.

"I'd sneak down and play pool and eat up his pies and candy," Willie said in a 1979 interview. "One day I ripped the cloth on a table, and boy, did he give me a licking that night. After that he locked up the balls when he went out. So I'd get bags of potatoes and take them down and use them as balls (and sink them with a broomstick). When he'd find the tables all dirty I'd get more spankings. But I got pretty good."
He later recalled that he gave the game up for a few years but after he dropped out of school to help support his parents he heard of a pool tournament offering a $75 1st prize and entered it. He won. "My parents and I lived for a month on that money," he remembered.

He rapidly outgrew the local tournament scene and started playing against world class opponents. He came to the attention of Brunswick Corporation, and was asked to join the staff and travel around the country to promote Brunswick's products.

In 1941, he won the first of his fourteen world championships. Yet, though well known among pool aficionados, he was hardly a household name. He suffered a stroke in 1956 and, thereafter, competed less in world class events. Then, in 1960, he was hired as a consultant for the movie "The Hustler." It was actually Willie who suggested Jackie Gleason play the roll of Minnesota Fats. Gleason was known as a fair pool player in his own right. Paul Newman, who played Fast Eddie Felson, had never played before, so Willie coached him. It was largely through his association with this movie that Willie gained widespread recognition as the all-time greatest pool player.


While "The Hustler" brought Willie to the fore and popularized the game of pocket billiards it also provided a launching pad for someone who was far less skilled in the game of pool, Rudolph Wanderone. Known previously as New York Fats and Baltimore Fats, depending on where he was located, Wanderone claimed the movie was about him and hence forth went by the name of Minnesota Fats. Even though Walter Tevis, the author of the novel upon which the movie was based, denied the claim, Wanderone was persistent in his declaration. Though he tried to uplift his own legend and denigrate Willie's, no one who really knew the game was duped, especially Willie.

"Hustler is just another word for thief, and Minnesota Fats is just another word for phony," Mr. Mosconi once said of his rival.

Wanderone wasn't qualified to carry Willie's socks and everyone knew it. A televised challenge match was arranged in 1978, Mr. Mosconi showing up in his tuxedo and the lip flapping Minnesota Fats in baggy pants and polo shirt. Willie destroyed the fat man. Still, the media loved Fats and to this day his name is associated with pool and, fittingly, a variety of lesser quality pool products.

Willie was a great technician and teacher. Books by Willie Mosconi are still sought after by collectors and aspiring pool players.

My Buddy, Billy Johnson, Gone

We were kids together, Billy Johnson and me. We drank beer, chased girls, laughed and joked, sported around town - we had fun.

We grew up, but we stayed in touch. We fished, we bowled, we shot a little bar pool up at Hunky Hall.

One time we were out in a boat up in Lake Hopatcong, drifting with live bait, herring, when I hooked into a good one. It was one of those fish that you don't realize you have on the line until you start reeling in. When it got close to the boat, we both saw that it was a huge rainbow trout. Billy grabbed the landing net and got ready to net the fish, but as soon as it saw the boat it turned and ran and snapped my line. Over the years, whenever I recalled that day, I would tell Billy it was his fault I lost the fish. He'd swear at me, but I'd claim that he had deliberately sabotaged my attempt at making angling history. Of course, eventually, I'd reluctantly admit that it was my fault the line had snapped because I had the drag set too tight. A fact I'd conveniently forget the next time I brought the subject up. I like to kid him like that and make him laugh.

But, seriously, when it came to being a friend, he was one in a million. Whenever I moved, I called Billy. Yeah, he used to work for a mover but that didn't obligate him to supervise all my moves. Still, he never said no, never complained that his back was sore, never made any excuses, he just showed up.

One time, we were in pretty desperate straits without a place to live. Billy took us in. He didn't have a lot of room, not with him, his wife and kids already sharing a small apartment, but that didn't matter. He gave us shelter.

Billy left us last week. Cancer. It was much too soon. He deserved more time on earth. More time with his family, his friends, with me.

I miss him.

I set up a Giving Page with the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in his Memory. 

The Best One-Piece House Cues

I'm often asked about house cues. People think that just because I grew up and learned how to play using a house cue that I might be some kind of expert on the subject. I'm not. But, I can tell you one thing - you can play just as well with a good house cue as you can with a couple thousand dollars of exotic wood and inlays. What you need is a cue that's straight, one that's relatively well-balanced, and one with a good tip on it. A Le Pro is a good choice of tip for a house cue. From consulting with those more knowledgeable, I've determined that among the following are the top choices for those who pride themselves with supplying their regulars with quality equipment.

One-Piece Cues at Amazon >>

If they weren't so awkward to travel with, I think I'd be using a one-piece cue to this day.

Reaching Out: A Stroker Smith Adventure by Ace Toscano

This place was a huge step up from Dirty Harry's. As a procession of young women, full-flowering beauties, crossed his path, it occurred to Stroker that the joint was aptly named. The Beer Garden. One barmaid carrying three frosted mugs of lager, a fishbowl sized margarita and a basket of wings brushed against him and smiled as she made her way to an opening that led outside. It was a cool night, perfect for sitting in the open air. The bar buzzed with joy and good times and he was immediately happy for Peggy O'Neil. She deserved to work in a place like this.

She had tweeted that she'd be working, tonight, inviting her friends to come on by to "partay," and, although he realized her tweets were meant for a younger crowd, he wanted to check things out as well. He'd gone from seeing her three or four times a week to not at all. He missed talking to her. He missed seeing her. He missed her. He wanted to know how she was doing. Besides, there were a couple things he had to ask her. Like, why had she left her job at Dirty Harry's so abruptly, without notice? And why, after five sessions as his teammate, had she felt it necessary to drop out of pool league, too?

She had glossed over her reasons, on facebook, in sketchy terms, but he needed some specifics. Mostly, he wanted to know if Hughie was involved. Hughie, the terminally useless son of Dirty Harry, liked to refer to himself as the day manager, since it gave him an excuse to hang out at the poolroom in the afternoon and lust after the barmaids who worked days. Stroker was a regular at Dirty Harry's and it was his habit to relax at the bar for a couple hours following his practice session, reading a book while he nursed a beer or two. From this vantage point, he had come to know all he ever wanted to know about Hughie and his lecherous ways. But, he had allowed himself to believe that Hughie's depraved longings were manifested in drool alone and that the useless twit was basically harmless. Now, he had reason to suspect he had been mistaken.

They had been book buddies, Stroker and Peggy O'Neil. He being an avid reader, and she being a dedicated Dean Koontz fan, they always had something to talk about on days she was working. Right now, in fact, he was delivering for her perusal Koontz's latest graphic novel, Odd Is On Our Side. It would be his way of telling her that, though she had moved on, their book exchanges did not have to end.

He stopped short of the bar and watched as she chatted it up with a couple young guys while she drew their beers from the tap. She must have sensed him staring at her because she glanced left and spotted him. She seemed happy to see him. He was relieved. He had worried about invading her privacy, but that, evidently, was not the case because out she scooted from behind the bar with outstretched arms and enveloped him with a rib crushing hug.

That was Peggy. She'd always been an outgoing, openly affectionate kind of girl. Unlike, for instance, Donna, another one of Harry's girls who worked Tuesdays and Sundays. A quiet girl, working two jobs to support herself and her three kids, she had once confided to him that she didn't believe in hugging customers, even if it might lead to bigger tips, because she wouldn't want to give anyone the wrong idea.

Donna, also a reader, was into the Kay Scarpetta novels which was why Stroker was constantly on the lookout for them, he had a checklist in his wallet, when he toured the local used book outlets. Just the other day, he had found a signed copy of The Last Precinct at a church rummage sale down in Hudson. He had presented it to her earlier this day. She had thanked him, politely, of course, but without the enthusiasm he had expected. Something was bothering her. From her body language, it occurred to him that her despondence might be connected to Hughie's looming presence. Then, he noticed the bruising around her wrists. When he had asked her about it, she just shook her head and said it was nothing.

"It's gotta be something," he had said.

"She said it's nothing," barked Hughie. "Donna give him a picture so he can go home and whack off. You're a pervert, you old fuck."

Though a rather large young fellow, mammoth by most scales, Hughie's brain was about the size of a pea. Accordingly, he thought the only possible interest one person might have in another was carnal.

"It must be frustrating, Hughie, hitting on all these beautiful girls and always getting turned down. I can't understand it. Harry's a good-looking guy. How come you're so ugly?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"No, thanks," replied Stroker. "But, if I was you, that, probably, would be the way to go."

Hughie just glared. He would have liked to throw Stroker out on his ass, but he couldn't. The dim-witted "day manager" had tried once to give Stroker the boot rather than pay up on a super bowl bet. But he had been overruled by Harry, thereby establishing to everyone that Harry's idiot son was the manager of nothing and his only true functions were to look stupid and bother the girls.

Peggy guided him to a seat at the bar and they caught up while she worked. It was like old times. When he finally got around to asking her if Hughie might be the reason she had left the poolroom so abruptly, she said she really couldn't say since it had been Harry who helped her land this job at Donte's and she had promised him not to talk about her prior employment. Of course, that was all the answer Stroker needed.

Now, he was beginning to see the recent string of sudden departures, all attributed to extreme unreliability - Linda, Kim, Sharon, Carol, Dawn - in a different light, a light blackened by Hughie's hulking shadow.

Donna was a much better person than he was. Stroker couldn't imagine needing a job so badly that he would put up with one second of Hughie's bullshit. No fucking way. But, he didn't have kids to feed. Remembering the red rings around her wrists, his brain raced through a dozen murderous scenarios.

Huey didn't show on Sunday - he was probably too hung over from Saturday night, so, he and Stroker didn't cross paths till the following Tuesday. The encounter proceeded normally with Donna and Stroker discussing the books they were reading, Hughie becoming jealous because she was ignoring him and, consequently, spewing off some unflattering comments regarding his rival, the 65-year-old Stroker.

"Stay home and dial up a 900 number, then you won't have to drive all the way up here to bother Donna."

Stroker just stared back at the imbecile.

"He's not bothering me," offered Donna. Stroker appreciated it because it was so against her nature to speak up.

"Well, he's bothering me," said Hughie.

"Don't fret, Hughie," said Stroker. "Sooner or later some skank will wander in here who's so drunk and so desperate that she won't care how ugly and stupid you are."

That comment brought laughter from a few of the old timers who were sitting at the railing watching a heated one-pocket match between Charley Shantz and that young kid from Hawaii whose name no one could pronounce.

"Go fuck yourself," sneered Hughie.

"Like I said, that's the way I would go if I was ugly as you. Reduce your frustration."

Hughie had had enough. He came storming around the bar, vicious intentions smeared across his face. Stroker hopped off his stool and was ready for him.

"Get out," he commanded, punctuating his words by poking Stroker's chest with his index finger.

"Now, it's my turn - go fuck yourself."

"I said, 'Get out of here'." Again, he did his thing with the finger.

"I'm warning you, Hughie, do not touch me a-fucking-gain."

But, Hughie couldn't stop himself, now. He drove his point home one more time.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here!"

It was a practiced move that Stroker had used back in the day - dropping down, practically freefalling to one knee and then, before Hughie had the slightest inkling of what was about to happen, throwing a vicious uppercut to Hughie's scrotum, driving his nuts up to his throat.

Now, the plan had been to hop to his feet then whip around 360 catching Hughie on the side of his head with his elbow. But, Hughie foiled those plans by freezing in the doubled over position. As Stroker sprung to his feet, the back of his head, with considerable torque, caught Hughie flush in the face. There was an unmistakable cracking of bones and Stroker feared the worse for Hughie's poor nose. The momentum threw Hughie back on his ass and he remained on his ass as he frantically slid backwards in full retreat.

"Now, I'm only going to tell you this once. Get the fuck out of here, Hughie. I don't want to see you here again."

Hughie, his hand holding his nose, made a series of noises.

"What?" Stroker spat.

"He said 'he works here,'" one of the onlookers translated.

"No fucking more."

More grunts.

"He said something about his father."

"Your father can manage without you. Now, get the fuck out before I finish what I started."

With that, Hughie scrambled to his feet and fled through the back door.

It took a few minutes for things to quiet down. When they had, Stroker climbed back onto his stool, sipped his beer, and then asked Donna, "Have you ever read any Lee Child?"

"I don't think so," she answered.

"I'll bring you some. I think you'd like him."

THE END

Best Selling Pool/Billiards Books

Without further adieu, here they are:

Best Selling Pool/Billiards Books as of 3/17/2012


1. The 99 Critical Shots in Pool: Everything You Need to Know... by Ray Martin




2. Byrne's Complete Book of Pool Shots: 350 Moves Every Player Should Know by Robert Byrne




3. Byrne's New Standard Book of Pool and Billiards by Robert Byrne




4. Pool and Billiards For Dummies by Nicholas Leider




5. Play Your Best Pool by Philip B. Capelle




6. The Secret Art Of Pool by Mr Lee Brett




7. Pool Player's Edge - 2nd Edition by Gerry Kanov and Shari Stauch




8. Capelle's Practicing Pool by Philip B. Capelle




9. Pleasures of Small Motions: Mastering the Mental Game of Pocket Billiards by Robert T. Fancher




10. Precision Pool, 2nd Edition by Gerry Kanov