After never having won a contest, I'm wondering when he's going to run the table. Since there's no real frontrunner, maybe we'll see the master stroke. Perhaps it's all a set-up with a lot of English put on it. Or, we're in the Twilight Zone and Mitt Romney is Jack Klugman who can just taste it. Our hustler is far from fat, but knows they can all fall like dominoes.
A felt need has him caressing the cue. No pretentious tricks, just solid playing to others' will to win. It's hustling, I tell you, from a slow, old man.
While the others show bumper ads and take bank shots at opponents, the hustler bets low on preliminary rounds. Right now, he's collecting few markers waiting for the tide to turn or simply a good break. He's lining up corners, plotting a rescue on the side and playing it safe.
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With him, keeping to the strategy is a matter of principle. There's plenty of time to delegate and plenty of delegated times to Tampa with. Get ready, Jackie Gleason fans and away we go to the final showing. He's not a kid out to make a come-back. He's not clutch driving either. He's a shark cutting through the murky water.
The hustler is a pro at the con that has most people shaking their heads. He could write a book and bill it to the business of billiards. It's a soft cushion to the dance of the hustle.
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But a dance needs a partner and there's someone waiting in the wings. Someone who has been there before and would love to stick it to her doubters. She's looking for an opening and ready with a flourish. No longer piggy-backing on the reputation of one old man, she holds the promise of victory for another.
She could be the finishing touch to the redecorating of the White House - ""(cf. blog) capturing the title of Madame President.
Stranger things have happened and politics makes strange bedfellows. It's a game of opportunity and seizing the moment to shine when the prospects are dismal. Hey, maybe a fat guy from New Jersey will show up to hustle some votes. That's where I'd go to see people getting hustled.
