Hustling pool in K.C. with Ricky Ketler

We were in a '51 Chevy convertible, we had a map of the road to adulthood, and we had the pedal down

(This is the first newsletter for paid subscribers only, part of a memoir I’ll contribute more to as we go along. I hope you enjoy it!)

Anybody who’s ever shot a game of pool knows the sound of a rack being broken when a well-aimed cue ball hits and scatters the balls all over the table.  It’s one of those “you have to be there” sounds, I guess, so stic…