It was one of those hot summer days like you only get in late Tennessee August. Naturally the air conditioner was frozen up and consequently turned off. The doors to the poolroom were open and the exhaust fan was running but only hot air was pulled off the concrete street ten feet from the front door.

There were eight or ten loafers sitting around having a beer or soft drink talking about how hot it was. Mike, behind the bar, was sitting in his rare-back position swatting any fly that dared come within range. One guy was rolling the balls around the table he was alternately leaning against, but no one was playing. They were to hot, to broke, or both.

When the stranger walked through the door no one paid particular attention. He stood in the partitioned door separating the bar from the tables and looked over the group. He looked in my direction and caught my eye with a wink and a nod. He didn’t speak so I didn’t speak. I recognized him from the college about ten miles away. He was J. B. Brown and a pretty good basketball player for a white guy. I had been on the same team for a semester until I had to drop out from a lack of funds. Maybe if I had been better the funds would have appeared. I wasn’t and they didn’t. J. B. was also a pretty good pool player. He didn’t miss often, and never rattled. I got the impression nobody else knew him.

Finally J. B. said, "Anybody in this pool room want to play some nine ball?"

"What you want to play for?" Responded Terry, easily our best shooter. Terry doubled as "rack-boy" taking care of racking balls and collecting money after each game and "house-man", meaning he shot pool for free. In a tightly contested game where the house could easily windup the only winner, playing for free gave the "house-man" a real advantage.

"Whatever you think is right," said J.B.

"Naw," said Terry, "I think you might be a hustler."

"I’m just a country boy trying to kill some time. It couldn’t cost you much to fined out and you might even kick my ass," responded J. B.

"Well, you right about all that, and I probably will kick your ass, cause these are my tables. I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll play you right there on that front table, some short rack bank for ten a game."

"I don’t think I know that game. How does it go?"

"Well," says Terry, "we rack up nine of those red balls, lag for the break and start playing. If you make a ball on the break you get to keep shooting. You got to call every shot, bank every ball at least one rail. To make a kick-in the cue ball has to hit three or more rails. Spot up balls made on the break or someplace not called. First person to make five banks wins the game. Pay off after every game. House gets ten cents a cue per game. I rack for you, you rack for me."

J. B. shrugged his shoulders and said, "what the hell, it won’t cost me much to find out and it might be a real learning experience.

J. B. found a house stick off the wall and Terry got his stick from behind the bar. Terry won the lag and broke the balls making two on the break. He proceeded to make a ball across the side, one across to the corner pocket, and a long down the rail, before missing an attempt at a three-rail kick in the side pocket. The two balls made on the break were spotted. J. B. was down 3-0. He was slow finding his shot and then missed a not-to-hard long across the corner. Terry quickly made his final two banks and the game was over. J. B. paid off the ten dollars and went to rack the balls. The next game went much the same except J. B. made two banks before losing.

The vultures were gathering. One of the guys on the side line asked, "You want a side bet, partner?"

"Looks like I’m gonna have to if I ever get my money back," said J. B. "You want the same as he’s got?"

"How about me?’

"I’ll take some of that," says two more.

"What about you, big boy?" J. B. spoke to me with another nod and a sly wink for the first time, still not acknowledging that we knew each other.

"No, but if you don’t care I’ll cover those last two offers and bet you can make a comeback," I said reaching for the only twenty dollars I had in the world.

"You’re welcome to them. Looks like I may need all mine right here."

Terry broke again and made two banks before missing. J. B. made three banks and left Terry with virtually no shot. After Terry missed, J. B. made two easy banks. My twenty turned into forty. J. B. won again, then lost one before winning two more. I was sixty dollars ahead. J. B. was forty ahead. Terry upped the bet to twenty a game. The side bets stayed the same. J. B. ran ten straight banks over two games. We were both up a hundred and the match was over. J. B. had been in the poolroom a little over an hour.

"Boys I tell you what," said J. B. "I wouldn’t want to leave here with out giving you a chance to get your money back. I’ll bet everything I just won that you can rack up three balls on that table and have Terry here break ‘em. I believe I can drink three beers before he can make those balls."

"What’s the catch?" Mike was now listening and off his chair behind the bar.

"No catch. Just what I said. Open three beers in the can. Set them on the bar and I’ll start them to my mouth when the cue ball hits the three on the spot. I’ll empty the cans and turn them upside down, emptying all them before Terry can run the table."

"What if he makes all of them on the break?"

"Then I either lose or better be drinking fast. Bartender you can be the judge. When the last ball is made or the last beer down, you call stop and time is up."

"I don’t like betting against another guy’s trick, but I’m tempted," said Mike. "can you do it with four beers?"

"Damn, you guys would stretch a gut wouldn’t you? Since I’m trying to give the money back, I’ll try to do it with four!"

Money started coming out of pockets. A few more had come in since this started and they were brought up to date. Several said, "hell, I'd give ten bucks to see him spill it all over his ass trying."

I said, "I’m going to bet the hundred I just one that he can do it. Never get off of a winner when he’s hot." I was covered.

"One last time, you need to know if this is some sorry as trick, you ain’t getting the money, and we will probably kick your ass," said Terry with Mike nodding agreement.

"Pull the beers. If I get them down their on the house, if I don’t I’ll pay double, OK?"

Mike agreed and set up the four beers side-by-side on the bar. Terry racked the three balls into a triangle on the spot and moved to the other end of the table and over the cue ball. Without a word he hit the cue ball as hard as he could. The Balls flew around the table. None went in but they would stop rolling so Terry could take another shot. Meanwhile at the sound of the break, J. B. grabbed a beer in each hand. When the first one reached his mouth he threw it back in a sucking motion that seemed to pull the beer from the can. In a second it seemed he had the first can upside down on the bar and was sucking on the second while reaching blindly for the third. The second, third and fourth can met the same fate as the first. The three balls had stopped rolling and Terry was quickly taking aim at the first one which he missed. All three balls were still in the table when Mike yelled stop.

J. B. stepped back from the bar and looked at Mike. "Satisfied?" He asked.

Mike carefully picked up each can. It was obvious they were empty because J. B, had returned them to the bar on their tops.

"By God, he did it! Give him his money."

As I was collecting my bet, J. B. put his in his pocket and walked by me toward the restrooms in the back. He didn’t make it all the way but crouched over a trash can about half way there. Four cans of foam erupted from his mouth and nose. Some of the losers started yelling. "He didn’t hold it down, he didn’t hold it down!"

"Don’t matter," said Mike. "Wasn’t nothing said about holding it down. Told you it aint’t smart to bet against another man’s trick."

J. B. continued on to the restroom and out the back door with his $200 profit. I bought a round out of mine and let the guys tell me how lucky I was.

I saw J. B. at school a few weeks later and asked how was he sure he could down four beers that fast. His answer-"cause I have done six."