Effa's Crown

They gathered around in Tewksbury town
In hopes of capturing Effa’s crown
The host was a former Cambridge lad
Who took us on a tour of his spacious new pad

Beard was ready and full of good cheer
As he cradled the case of Rolling Rock beer
Up ninety three pushing seventy eight
Joe struggled mightily to keep the car going straight

With Mike as my copilot the trip seemed rather short
Soon we were in front of 79 Emerald Court
Off at a distance Peter shook his fist
He’s one of the few on the overtime list

Effa was quite confident and somewhat cocky
Dave entered muttering, “Ah, he’s just lucky.”
It seemed that a few had plotted and planned
On how to overthrow the reigning poker champ

As we waited to start the six started getting itchy
Then someone asked, “Where the heck is Richie?”
“Let me call him,” said Joe picking up the phone
He soon would find out that Richie was not at home

Another of the regulars, Big Boss Billy was missing
“He’s not coming,” said Walsh. “He’s baby sitting.”
I thought to myself, “Bill, has got to be crazy,
He does enough of it at work with some of the big babies.”

Sal was detained, he was late in arriving
Seems he was counting his rent checks as he was driving
He finally made it acting calmly and cool
“You have a hole in your shirt Joe,” April Fools

The table was laid and the chips were dispensed
Game faces were on, it was getting intense
A few changed their style, no more drinking
As if this was the past impediment to their thinking

The jack landed in front of Mike’s place
Joe started betting like he was in a race
He couldn’t stay long, commitments at home
He would have to work fast if he wanted the throne

It started to rain as he won a few hands
Then an interruption that would alter Joe’s plans
“You’re lights are on Joe,” came the shout from outside
The car wouldn’t start the battery died.

It just didn’t seem like it was going to be Joe’s day
But the tour one trooper continued to play.
This additional pressure proved to be no fun
Joe had to make a decision should I stay or should I run

Triple A was called, he breathed a sigh of relief
A four for an inside straight, Kevin he had beat
Sal on my right was the first out of the game
His downfall was ‘cause sans Crown Royal he came

With nothing to do Sal gave Joe a proposition
“I’ll play you hands when you leave, what’s the decision?”
“What’s in it for me?” Joe readily asked his buddy
The answer, “We’ll split what we win sixty forty.”

With his battery charged back down ninety three Joe sped
He kept hearing Oscar’s voice saying “I want to be fed.”
Back at the table Sal was given another chance
Playing with Joe’s chips he was determined to dance.

He was now on my left, my vulnerable side
I had to watch very carefully, with both eyes opened wide.
He was going head to head with Dave Leone
He called out a straight when he had king high only.

Kevin and then Dave and finally Mike went down
Leaving Effa and I and my buddy the Clown
He was testing my patience by hitting me in the rib
If he keeps it up, I’m going to kick him in the shin.

With the gallery rooting for anyone but Pete
Sal succumbed to the pressure, and fell to the heat.
He fought a good battle for his old pal Joe
Just like he did on Tour 1 many years ago.

As Pete and I fought for the prize
The cards weren’t coming I couldn’t capitalize.
At the final showdown, it came down to one
A river card of seven maintained Effa’s crown.

The reign continues and Peter can gloat
He beat his old boss, of that he can boast.
Sal and I will salute you in a toast
Our advice is never get too close to the coast.