The Practice Player

Harry Chaney, a 5'11" black, security guard arrived home after work and walked through the front door. "Hi Ma," he called out to Gina, his wife from the Philippines. She was at the stove stirring a pot of stew. "Where's Henry?"

"He's in his room crying—been like that since he came home."

"Why? What happened?"

"Don't know. He said some boy took his money. Go and talk to him. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Harry stopped in front of Henry's room and found the door closed. He knocked then opened the door. Fourteen year old Henry was lying face down on the bed, his head on his wet pillow, sobbing.

Harry walked to the edge of the bed and sat down. He put his hand on Henry's head and gently rubbed his wavy hair.

"What's the matter, son?" he asked. "Not feeling well?"

Henry turned his head toward his pa as tears still kept running down his cheeks. He was grief-stricken. "I lost all my money, Pa. I made two dollars and lost it all to Scully," he said, sobbing in spurts.

"Who's Scully?" asked Harry.

"He's an older, black guy, about sixteen."

"Today was your first day selling papers, son, your first day of summer vacation. You should have brought the money home. We talked about it last night. Money don't grow on trees, you know. Now tell me what happened."

"Right after we finished selling papers, we went over to the Rec Room. Scully was in there playing on the pool table. The two brothers with me had to go home but I wanted to play. I've never played pool before. Scully said he'd teach me. We played three games, 9-Ball I think, and I won every one. Henry gave a weak smile, then related the graphic details of their encounter:

"Wow! You beat me three games in a row. You're good. I know you played before," said Scully.

"No. This is the first time. I swear," said Henry.

"I don't believe you. I can tell by the way you hold the cue stick. You're lying. I know you're lying," said Scully.

"No. I promise. This is my first time," said Henry.

"If you're telling the truth, we have to play for money," said Scully.

"No, I don't want to gamble," said Henry.

"It's not gambling. You already beat me ... three times. C'mon. You already proved you can beat me. We'll play fifty cents a game. C'mon," said Scully.

"I lost four games in a row, Pa. When I lost the first game, Scully said I owed him two more games. When I lost the second game, he said I owed him one more. Then when I lost the third game, he said we were even—that we had to play one more game for the championship because somebody had to be the winner. I lost that one too."

Pa shook his head. He knew Henry had been suckered in by a punk who thought he was a smooth operator—taking advantage of a kid who didn't know what was going on. He was royally pissed.

"Don't play Scully again. Don't even go to the Rec Room. After you finish selling papers tomorrow, meet me at Tony's Barbershop downtown. You know where it is?"

"Yeah, Pa. That's where I had my haircut the last time."

"O.K. If I'm not there, tell Tony you're Harry's boy and you're waiting for me. Got it?"

"I got it, Pa."

"Now let's go eat."

The next day at 4 P.M. Henry arrived at Tony's. He walked in while Tony was busy cutting a customer's hair. Tony was a lean, black man just about 6' tall with specks of gray above his ears. He was the same age as Henry's pa. They both were thirty-two.

"You're next, kid," Tony said.

"No. I'm waiting for my pa. I'm Harry's son. He's my pa."

"Aha! Go ahead and sit down. He should be here pretty soon."

Henry sat down, picked up a sports magazine from the table next to him and browsed through the pages. Just then, he heard the sound of pool balls coming from the back room. He perked up his ears then went back to the magazine. "Pow!" He heard it again. Curious, he got up and walked towards the sound. From the door he saw that there were three pool tables. Two fellows were playing on one table and the other two weren't in use. He never knew there were pool tables in the back room. The last time he was there nobody were using the tables so he didn't hear anything.

"Hey kid!" Tony called out. tNYou can wait in there for your pa. You can watch but don't do anything else."

"Thanks. I'll just watch."

Henry went inside, found a high stool about two tables away, sat down and watched the two players. They were playing a different game than the one he played with Scully. They were using all the balls whereas he and Scully only used nine balls.

Five minutes later, a seedy looking character wearing a baseball cap sidled up to the chair next to him and sat down. "Wanna play for a couple bucks a game, kid? I'll give you a spot."

Henry gave him a blank look. He had no idea what he was talking about. "I'm just waiting for my pa."

"Yeah? Who's your pa, kid?"

"Harry...Harry Chaney."

The character gulped, "Uh...sorry to bother you, kid. I was just kidding. Sorry." He got off the stool and slinked away.

Henry watched as he hurried his steps and fled out the door.

A few minutes later his pa walked in and started walking his way. As soon as the two players saw him, they hung up their cues on the cue rack and started walking out, not even finishing their game. Henry didn't know that his pa was about the best player in town and that a lot of hustlers feared and respected him. A lot of them didn't want to be in any poolroom he was in. They were scared that if they hustled any of his friends, he'd hustle them back and they'd feel humiliated for refusing.

"Go pick up a cue," he told Henry.

Henry went up to the cue rack and started fidgeting with the cue sticks, not really knowing how to choose one.

Harry walked over to Henry. "Now watch me carefully in every-thing I do. I'm going to teach you from the ground up, step by step. Then when you practice, I'll be standing next to you and I'll correct everything you do wrong. So let's start out by finding out if the cue stick is straight. You roll it on the table like this."

Harry showed Henry everything he knew and the six basic fundamentals he should master. For the first month, he stayed with Henry everyday after work, drilling every bit of advice and skill he possessed into Hank's mind and body. When the month was over, he took Henry aside.

"Now you come here after selling papers everyday by yourself and practice. Don't play anybody for money—not one penny. Practice everything I taught you and if you need any help, go and ask Tony. He and I used to go on the road and hustle pool before you were born so he knows everything I know, O.K.? I already talked to him about keeping an eye out for you. So you listen to him and stay out of trouble and behave yourself in here. O.K.?"

"O.K., Pa. I'll behave," said Henry.

"Good. Now let's go home."

Learning how to play pool was the greatest gift anyone could ever give Henry. He took to the game like it was the only thing left in the world to do. He ate pool, slept pool, breathed pool, drank pool, dreamt pool. For him, there was no greater love in the world than pool.

One day when Tony wasn't busy, they had a conversation.

"Tony, when did you and my pa start playing pool?" asked Henry.

Tony started thinking about it and gave a chuckle. Thinking back to the old days brought back fond memories.