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THE HUSTLER January 28 2009
My dad always shared the story of his hard knock life. He was raised on the outskirts of Manila, where he had to climb trees for food or toss coins in a bucket for a bag of popcorn. When he was punished by my grandma, he had to kneel in the dirt with thousands of red ants. He ran the streets and also a pool hall that his best friend's family owned. By day, he was earning money folding clothes. By night, he was hustling the veteranos. But when he came here, he left that life behind him, and his favorite games easily turned into football, basketball, and poker.The other day, I invited him to hang out with the crew for beers and pool. It was silly of me to believe that his skill was left behind, too. He totally kicked all of our asses.
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