On Saturday, March 2, 1996 at 1:00:00 AM UTC-7, Chuck Nelson wrote:
In 1975, tour player Steve Edgell contacted Tournament Soccer promoter Lee Peppard
with the idea of writing a novel about some of the psychology and culture behind
foosball. The basic premise was to use well-known players as inspiration, changing
the names slightly so foosers would know who they were. Lee liked the idea and
commisioned Steve to publish the book.
The short mystery novel, "Adventure in Foosball" was written and published in a month
and sent to Lee to hand out freely at the tournaments. Unfortunately, only 1000
copies were printed and many of these were lost in a house fire. To preserve this
foosball artifact, Steve sent me his last, slightly burned copy of the novel. I have
scanned it into electronic format and will publish short cliffhanger segments each day
in the foosball newsgroup. At the completion of the newgroup series, the novel will
be published in its entirety on the foosball home page "http://dcs.umd.edu/~clay/foosball".
For easier newgroup reading and to add a little suspense, I've split it up into about
20 cliffhanger segments and added some teasers at the end of each part. Please let me
know if the segments are too long or too short and I will try to adjust accordingly
(to introduce the characters and the setting this first segment is fairly long).
While the book, the prize money, and its characters are fictional, many of the
characters are based on real players. Can you guess who is who? (remember it was
written in 1975.) Plus, in addition to being an engaging mystery, the book also
addresses issues still discussed today such as rule changes, table design, slow play,
heckling, tournament delays, and yes, even banning of players (some things never
change!) I hope you enjoy it!
Chuck Nelson
Eagan, MN
----------------------------------------------------------------------
ADVENTURE IN FOOSBALL
A short mystery novel about foosball by Steven L. Edgell
Copyright 1975
Cover Art by John Shotwell
Originally printed by Bacon Graphic, Phoenix, Arizona
Reprinted with permission of the author
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to acknowledge the contribution of the various table manufacturers
and distributors around the world who have had the insight to recognize that table
soccer is more than just another coin operated game. A special debt of gratitude is
owed to Mr. Lee Peppard and the management and staff of Mountain West Inc. for having
the courage to convert that insight into an exciting series of tournaments for amateur
and professional players. Out of that tournament circuit a subculture is beginning to
emerge complete with the characters, habits, dress, heroes and drama that make up the
background of the story you are about to read. The author would also like to acknowledge the contribution of Miss Janet Jones for her assistance in developing the
characters and preparing the text for publication. Without her generous offer of time
and creative energy this book would not have been possible.
This book is dedicated to the players.
CHAPTER 1 (part a)
Gary Phillips and Dick Jones walked rapidly up the ramp leading to the sports
pavilion. It took all of the self restraint they could muster to keep from breaking
into a dead run. To do so, however, would be too much of a contrast with the professional image they were trying to portray. Dick resented having to put up this
kind of front but Gary had convinced him that it was worth a couple of points a game
against the less experienced players.
"If they think you're good, they'll change their game and beat themselves." he had
said.
Dick knew this to be true. It was only recently that he had been able to conquer
this in himself. Even now he couldn't be sure he wouldn't blow it when the real
pressure came down.
They had been on the road for over 20 hours taking turns driving, sleeping and
talking about their game. The weather in Minneapolis had been cold and damp and the
city was preparing for the icy blanket of winter. The trip to Denver had been like
traveling backward in time. Here, they were still enjoying the late summer warmth.
Sue and Karen had dropped them off at the pavilion and gone to check into the
hotel.
"We'll take a quick shower and come right back." Sue had promised.
Dick lived in Minneapolis, Gary was from Dallas. They had met several years
earlier at the Texas State Foosball Championships and had suddenly become old friends.
At first foosball had been enough to sustain their long talks into the late hours,
but as time went on they found that they had many other common interests to round out
their friendship. Both had gone to college for a couple of years, had served tours of
duty in the Marines and enjoyed traveling around the country. The fact that Sue and
Karen were the best of friends also served to bind them together.
Dick was a wiry 5 foot 8 inches with shoulder length blonde hair and a Van Dyke
beard. Crooked teeth and braces in early childhood had left a permanent shyness in
his smile and his steel blue eyes seemed to mask a sadness which made you feel good
when he laughed. He got his start in foosball six years earlier at the age of 19. At
that time the drinking age in Minneapolis was 21 but he would borrow his older
brother's ID and go down to Hennepin Avenue and play at the White Whale Bar. He would
put a quarter on an occupied table and sometimes have to wait for as much as an hour
for an opportunity to play. It was almost 6 months before he won his first game.
Gradually, however, his game improved and he started to win. After a year of play, he
had developed the fastest and most accurate pull shot in the bar and had no trouble
getting the better players for partners. Because of his age and size his partners at
first were able to browbeat him into playing the goalie position. Most players prefer
the front position because more scoring is done there and the rewards come faster.
Being a goalie, to most players, is much like being an offensive lineman in football.
You are only noticed when you make a mistake. Dick, however, began to like the
position. He enjoyed the responsibility of keeping his goal clean and was particularly good at scoring. His first big tournament was the National Championships
in Missoula, Montana, where he and his partner had taken third place.
Gary was built somewhat heavier than Dick. He was 5 foot 10 inches and weighed 195
pounds. He had the look of an athlete and during his senior year in high school had
been an all conference fullback. His foosball experience went back nine years to the
Dallas area junior high school league. In the course of his nine years he had won
every major event in the country except the World Championships and was rated by the
National Table Soccer Association as one of the nations top ten at the forward
position. He spent a lot of time developing his professional image. Where most other
foosball players, including his partner Dick, wore sandals, cutoffs and t-shirts, Gary
always wore a pair of pressed slacks and a dress shirt. His hair was cut short and
was always neatly in place.
Dick noticeably gasped as he and Gary reached the point at the top of the ramp
where they could see down on to the pavilion floor. An ocean of tables stretched out
endlessly before them. Over each table hung a plastic replica of a Tiffany lamp.I have one of these lamps Rob 208-860-1171
"Jesus, there must be at least 300." Gary guessed and he could feel his heart race
as he imagined the pavilion filled to capacity with players and spectators from all
over the world.
It was two days before the start of the two day World Table Soccer Championships
and the one hundred or more players practicing on the floor were dwarfed by the size
of the pavilion and the number of unoccupied tables. Several men were busy on the far
side of the pavilion putting the finishing touches on some of the tables. Dick
recognized many of the workers as some of the top players in the country. They
traveled the circuit doing odd jobs in exchange for enough money car fare to the next
city. Some of the workers, such as Mike Bowman, last years singles champion, and Mark
Sands, rated as number three goaltender in the country, were helping out just because
they loved to be around the game.
Dick's eyes were attracted to the scorer's stage on the far left by the 14 karat
reflection from the trophies. They were lined across the stage like a row of chessmen
ready to do battle. In four short days they would each find separate homes on the
mantles of the best foosball players in the world. In front of the trophies on a
velvet covered platform stood a 50 gallon oak stave barrel trimmed in silver. Dick
was surprised at its size. It seemed to be too small for its purpose. The winners of
the open doubles event were to receive $70,000 in quarters, a gimmick thought up by
the sponsors of the tournament. He had imagined the 280,000 quarters would fill a
small room.
A man who had been following a few paces behind them on the ramp squeezed past and
peered out across the floor, obviously puzzled by the arrangement of tables and lamps.
Probably another tourist who has never seen the game and wonders why it is getting
all of this attention, Dick smiled to himself. The man caught his stare and approached them, slapping Gary on the back.
"Excuse me fellows, my name is Gatzman, Harry Gatzman. I'm a reporter for the
Denver Post and I've been assigned to write a story on the tournament. Can you help me
out a little?"
Gatzman was about thirty years old, tall and slender. His tweed smoking jacket and
pipe gave him the appearance of a young college professor.
"Sure" Dick grumbled, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He had
talked to reporters before. No matter what he told them they always wrote it up like
they had attended a freak show at the circus. Not once in his six years with the game
had he seen a story on the sports page where it belonged. He figured this guy was
only interested because of the $200,000 in prize money.
Gary caught Dick's mood and broke in. "How can we help?"
"Well, you can start by telling me a little about the game. I've never seen it
played."
Dick rolled his eyes at Gary and looked out over the floor. He spotted Gamel
Bezzan and Dan Cable leaning over a nearby table in a serious discussion. They were
from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, had finished 7th in last year's world championships and
were known for their unorthodox style. Dan was a small muscular man and had been a
star wrestler for LSU during his undergraduate days. Despite his strong wrists, he
was known more for his ball control than for power.
Gamel was considered by most to be one of the philosophers in the game. He was an
exchange student at LSU from Saudi Arabia. Twinkling eyes and an ever present smile
camouflaged his passion for winning and a well defined killer instinct. Many a
unsuspecting pro had refused to take him seriously and found themselves eliminated
from an event.
Dick borrowed the opportunity of his friends from Louisiana to escape from the
reporters query. He excused himself and strode down the steps onto the wooden
pavilion floor.
WHEN THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES...
Can our hero Gary shake this pesky reporter? Does he want to?
What is the best way to promote the great sport of foosball?
What other big names will show up at Worlds?
Opinions expressed herein are my own and may not represent those of 3M.
--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
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