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Blood in the Alley and Soda Bottle Cows

 Twenty of us circled the guesthouse’s only pool table, a lopsided clunker with faded green felt, and—hypnotized—watched for hours as teams chased the elusive final black ball, the jokar.  The first official pool tournament for our organization, a methodically documented, highly competitive affair, saw staffers from two different departments go ... read more

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