**The sequel to The Hustler sees former champion "Fast" Eddie Felson return to the thrilling world of competitive pool from the bestselling author of The Queen s Gambit. The basis for the famed Martin Scorsese film.

"Tevis writes about pool with power and poetry and tension.... Grabs the reader and doesn't let go. You don't have to appreciate pool to like this book, to appreciate its sense of living on the edge." Washington Post

Twenty years have passed since Fast Eddie Felson conquered the underground pool circuit. During that time he married and ran his own pool hall, but having left that all behind he s now badly in need of money, and pool is all he knows. On the beautiful aquamarine waters of the Florida Keys, he ropes his former rival Minnesota Fats into a series of exhibition matches in the hopes of picking up a cable TV deal. But playing the old master, a terrible feeling nags at him that he s sat on his talent and that the best part of him is now gone. And when he vows to get back in the game seriously, this time he finds a challenging road ahead, and the only thing standing in his way is himself.

"Tevis writes about pool with power and poetry and tension. . . . Grabs the reader and doesn't let go. You don't have to appreciate pool to like this book, to appreciate its sense of living on the edge." —*Washington Post
*
"Tevis has added some glamour, but the grit remains together with the suspense of a competition whose only literary counterpart is the gunfight of the Old West." —Chicago Tribune

Autorentext
WALTER TEVIS is the author of The Hustler, The Man Who Fell to Earth, Mockingbird, The Steps of the Sun, The Queen’s Gambit, The Color of Money, and the short story collection Far from Home. The Man Who Fell to Earth was the basis for a major motion picture starring David Bowie. The Hustler and The Color of Money were also adapted for film, The Queen’s Gambit was the basis of the Emmy Award–winning Netflix series and The Man Who Fell to Earth is the basis of the Showtime series. Tevis died in 1984. 
 

Klappentext

After 20 years of hibernation, former pool champion "Fast" Eddie Felson is now ready to regain the skills needed to compete in a world of pool that has changed dramatically since he left it behind. "The Color of Money" is the source of the 1986 film starring Paul Newman in the role he had originated in "The Hustler."

Zusammenfassung
**The sequel to The Hustler sees former champion "Fast" Eddie Felson return to the thrilling world of competitive pool—from the bestselling author of The Queen’s Gambit. The basis for the famed Martin Scorsese film.

"Tevis writes about pool with power and poetry and tension.... Grabs the reader and doesn't let go. You don't have to appreciate pool to like this book, to appreciate its sense of living on the edge." —Washington Post
 
Twenty years have passed since “Fast” Eddie Felson conquered the underground pool circuit. During that time he married and ran his own pool hall, but having left that all behind he’s now badly in need of money, and pool is all he knows. On the beautiful aquamarine waters of the Florida Keys, he ropes his former rival Minnesota Fats into a series of exhibition matches in the hopes of picking up a cable TV deal. But playing the old master, a terrible feeling nags at him that he’s sat on his talent and that the best part of him is now gone. And when he vows to get back in the game—seriously, this time—he finds a challenging road ahead, and the only thing standing in his way is himself.
 

Leseprobe
Chapter One

Where it faced the highway, the Sunburst was just another motel, but behind the main building sat a cluster of a half-dozen concrete cottages with tiny rock gardens. Condominiums. It was on one of the Keys, the one just below Largo. Driving down from the Miami airport, Ed had pictured a resort hotel with terraces and tennis courts, but this was old-fashioned. He parked beside a crimson hibiscus and got out into the Florida heat. Number 4 was the one across the gravel road, with a clear view of the ocean. It was late in the afternoon and the light from the sky was intense.

Just as he came up, the screen door opened and a hugely fat man stepped out. The man wore Bermuda shorts and carried a wet bathing suit; he walked to the edge of the little porch and began wringing the suit into the bushes, scowling. It was him. Old as hell and even fatter, but there was no mistaking the man. Ed walked up to the foot of the steps, shading his eyes from the sun. “You’re George Hegerman,” he said, pleasantly.

The fat man grunted and went on with his suit.

“We used to know each other, in Chicago. . . .”

The man turned and looked at him. “I remember.”

“I’d like to talk business,” Ed said, squinting up. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable. It was extremely hot. “I could use a drink.”

The fat man turned and finished with the bathing suit. There was a wood banister at one end of the porch and he hung it over that, spreading it out to dry. The suit was enormous. He turned back to Ed. “I’m going out in the bay. You can come along.”

Ed stared at him for a moment. “In a boat?”

“That’s right.”

Hegerman stood at the wheel, wearing only the Bermuda shorts and dark glasses; he piloted the small boat expertly toward the low sun. The water was flat and shallow and as blue as any water Ed had ever seen; the motor behind him made conversation impossible except for an occasional shout.

After a while Hegerman pushed the throttle forward and the boat jolted ahead, skipping over the surface of the water like a flat rock and bouncing Ed hard against the seat. He stood up like the other man and held a rail in front of him. The spray hit against his face and drenched his dark glasses. They began to pass small, humped islands made of some kind of tangled plant. “What’s that?” he shouted as they passed one, and the fat man boomed out, “Mangrove.” Ed said nothing, feeling stupid for not knowing. His shirt was soaked now and there was water in his shoes. He seated himself and tried to get the shoes off, but the boat was bouncing too hard and he couldn’t manage it. The water’s color had changed to a startling aquamarine. The deep, unclouded blue of the sky was dazzling.

Abruptly Hegerman cut the throttle back and the banging stopped. The motor sound changed to a purr. Ed got his shoes off. Ahead of them was a real island with a narrow beach; they were moving toward it.

Behind the beach stood a mass of trees, through which the sun filtered toward them. When they were a few hundred yards out, the fat man cut off the motor and they drifted. Then he opened a storage compartment in the seat beside him and carefully pulled out something black. It was a camera. He took a tubular black case from the same place, zipped it open and removed a lens that was over a foot long. He fastened it to the camera body. Ed set his shoes beside him on the seat, watching the fat man who had now erected a tripod on the deck by his seat and was screwing the camera to the top of it. Ed knew better than to ask questions; he kept silent and watched. The cigarette pack in his shirt pocket was unopened and had stayed dry. He opened it now and lit up, then peeled the wet shirt off, wrung it out over the gunwale and spread it out on the empty seat beside him. The fat man had his camera ready now, pointed toward the trees. His enormous bottom filled the back of the boat seat; he had only to lean sideways to have his eye at the viewfinder. Ed leaned back and smok…