In the 2018 second-season “Shark” episode of the HBO anthology series Room 104, there is a confrontation between two characters about their evolving relationship hustling pool. Ollie (James Earl), a skilled pool player, confronts his cousin and manager Franco (Mahershala Ali) about the value he brings to their partnership, especially as they consider pivoting from road hustling to legitimate tournaments. Questioning their 50/50 financial arrangement, Ollie asks, “I’m the one doing the playing, so what are you going to be doing?

Sensing his gig may be at risk, Franco delivers an acerbic diatribe in response:

I don’t think you realize how much f*cking hard work, skill, dedication, brain power goes into this operation I created for us here. Someone got to book the bus tickets, got to find the cheapest room to stay in town, got to find a pool hall that don’t know about us yet, got to sniff out the player in there that you can definitely beat to get things rolling, then I got to make sure I sniff out any other hustlers in there that got us beat, avoid them, set you up with just the right sucker whose got more money than skill, make the deal with him, or his motherf*cking, piece-of-sh*t ass manager, then distract said piece-of-sh*t manager with conversation while you’re playing, while still keeping my eye on the game so I know how much to bet the next round. And I do this sh*t over and over and over again, plus I got to keep this sh*t all positive because you up here questioning me all the time and acting all moody, like tonight. 

It’s a merciless moment, made all the more brilliant by Mr. Ali’s delivery. (It’s no wonder this gifted actor won back-to-back Oscars for Moonlight and Green Book. As one reviewer wrote, “Mahershala Ali could read the phone book and I would watch.”) 

But, it also feels slightly absurd, especially as a commentary on the historical relationship between pool players and their backers.

Let’s start with the most obvious problem. Except for the top players in the world, very few are going to have ‘business managers,’ especially someone who is going to collect 50% of the player’s earnings. Most pool players, even hustlers, are scraping by, and there’s not enough money to carry a manager.

Slightly more common is that a player will have a stakehorse, i.e., a backer who can put up the money to compete in tournaments or make sizable wagers that can have large payoffs. Conceptually, this is the dynamic in The Hustler between Eddie Felson and his stakehorse Bert Gordon. But, Franco is no Bert Gordon. Even after Ollie beats “that motherf*cker Larry dude…coming up in there with some dinosaur looking motherf*cking yellow ass crusty toenails poking through his sandals,” the duo only net $94 between them. 

Franco blames the paltry amount on the fact that they used to play in “ bigger cities in the bigger halls with the bigger idiots with the bigger wallets…But we played those places out already. So now we gotta hustle more, smaller venues, smaller paydays.” But whatever excuse one concocts, if they’re not clearing $100 in a night, Ollie needs a backer, not a manager.

A third arrangement is the partner model. Think back to the 1940s and 1950s, when players might work together playing private pool games for money. The famous road warriors  Don “The Cincinnati Kid” Willis and Luther “Wimpy” Lassiter epitomized this partnership. According to R.A. Dyer, author of Hustler Days:

Willis befriended Luther Lassiter in 1948 after beating Lassiter at nine-ball. Lassiter, who went on to become seven-time world champion, was perhaps America’s best nine-ball player; together, the two men formed “arguably the most formidable road team in American history”. As Willis said in 1977: “I broke Lassiter one night playing 9-ball in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. He suggested that we become road partners …. We split everything we made—sometimes as much as $5000 or $10,000 over a period of several days.” When hustling with Lassiter, Willis often went first, playing the lemon to set up a victim for Lassiter, who would then finish the opponent.

Even if the arrangement is not a joint player partnership, there is at least a mutual respect and understanding of the game. (Think of the relationship between Eddie Felson and Vincent Lauria in The Color of Money.) But, that’s not the case with Franco and Ollie. Franco’s rant continues:

I’m not just your manager, I’m your f*cking shrink, too. You need me to do all the sh*t I do, and take care of you, and the only thing you gotta f*cking do is go out and play with some sticks and balls when I tell you to, and with who I tell you to play with…that’s your whole f*cking job. I got a f*cking halfwit who plays with sticks and balls as a partner, and he’s telling me I ain’t worth my wait in the 50/50? What the f*ck you talking about it? That sounds like a big ol’ f*ck you to me. 

Even Bert Gordon, who called Fast Eddie “a born loser” to try to break his self-destructive tendencies, would never disrespect the game to the point of referring to his partner – or his investment – as a “halfwit who plays with sticks and balls.” 

Want to inject a bit of reality back into this Room 104 episode?  How about this response from Ollie: “Yeah, it is a big ol’ f*ck you. BYE!!”

The “Shark” episode of Room 104 is available to watch on HBOMax.