The Gray One
From PiedPipersHouseOfPong
(Copyright 4th ed – Oct 2009)
The thin man entered yet not a soul knew him by name
Appearing old and gray, could he even play the game?
No sponge rubber was affixed to his old wooden blade
Just pimpled rubber that had in a past decade been made
Youths in the room were dressed in the latest sports apparel
But this fine Old Gent would send them all to Pong peril
This "Leader of the Band" and "Bojangles" rolled into one
Was aged far well enough to call any of the Youths, "Son"
The Sons of the day eager to put quick money on the line
Claiming the Gray One's bets attributable to too much wine
The Gray Man's lack of sports apparel and properly fitted gear
Prompted naive Youths to often joke, laugh, snicker and jeer
The Gray One's rumpled old hat would he seldom remove
Though a "Master of Ball Control" always in his best groove
The Young Lad opponents had the fierce spin of great loops
Yet the Gray One did all of them in, as they just said, "Oops"
The Gray One came from a Past Age when "Defense was King"
Yet this Old One had the prowess to attack balls from each wing!
The Youths knew him not, but for a faint memory of the eldest Son
Who recalled vague memories and old stories of the Loopers undone
Though "inverted rubber" is the latest for speed and spin in the sport
This gray Mister Bojangles beat the youths, even while having a snort
The eldest Son tried to warn them though too late did he converse
Then the masterful Gray One took the Sons for the lucrative purse
One-by-one the Sons would fall to this Old Gent with the hat
The Youthful Sons, as said in Wrestling, all "pinned to the mat"
Though by his full sir name the Gray One was not ever known
The skill in his rough, crusty old hands had clearly been shown
We never could name this fellow, but know those of his time
"Barna" or "Reisman" would befit the Gray One most sublime
Yet who was the Chap? – By any of us, will this ever be known?
Or does it matter that the Youthful Sons feel a bit more grown?
A Gray Gent with an old rumpled hat and torn, faded blue jeans
Clearly embarrassed Macho Youths in their twenties and teens
The Gray One even with beers in the most advanced of his years
Played Pong so sublime it could send Amadeus Mozart to tears
Behold the Gray One!! A Mozart of Pong, from decades ago
Clearly dealt the Young Lads a most severe pocketbook blow
The Young Ones went all out for loops of great spin and speed
Then the crafty "Leader of the Band" caused pockets to bleed
The Youths claimed the Gray One used rubber that is "junk"
But he showed them all it was legal before Atlas was hunk
The Youthful Sons still tried - his wood and pips to denounce
So the Mozart of Pong proved hard rubber had the true bounce
The Gray One pulled cigars from under his old rumpled hat
Then he placed them where the white table end line was at
Then with forehand drives he hit cigars down without fail
Perplexed Youths gritted teeth to avoid many a loud wail
The Gray One had the Youths bested yet he did not cheat
But soon this Old Man - his very Maker he would meet
The hearts of the Young Sons had now all been turned
Despite that earlier youthful pockets were clearly burned
They turned to treat the Gray One with utmost respect
But the Old Man quivered and his health was suspect
The Youths became tearful doing whatever they could
Yet whatever they tried - it seemed not to do any good
The Gray One was dying and nothing could be done!
Tearfully saying farewell, he called each of them "Son"
Life's turns took him out of Pong rooms for many a year
Through tough, hard times and too many glasses of beer
Somehow it was as if the Gray One knew he would go
And that all the Youths of the day all needed a show
The Gray One had no family, not a single soul to embrace
Now tearful, the Youthful Sons became his family-in-place
The Gray One died still clutching the wooden hard rubber blade
Still donning the rumpled hat, as the Youths could no longer aid
The Youthful Sons broke down and cried, no more macho within
With the utmost respect for the Gray One who earlier did them in
In precise unison the Sons carried the casket of this Fine Old Gent
Praying to God, that to Heaven the Gray One would soon be sent
The True Sons paid for his funeral though cash-strapped to the hip
Out of love for the fine Gray One who used only the wood and pip
The Pied Piper of Pong