The felt on Mark Wilson's pool tables is as flawless as the greens at Augusta National. Every afternoon, when the Billiard Bullpen slowly comes to life, Wilson places the balls into a machine that opens like a submarine hatch and spins them as shiny as supermarket apples. The pool hall is as immaculate as its owner's clean-shaven face. And the coffee, the hardest drink available, is as good as it gets, made with freshly roasted beans and... More >>>
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By Jennifer Silverberg
Mark Wilson at his Billiard Bullpen. "The only way you can
get two of them to go in the same direction," he says of
his peers, "is if they agree to cut the third one's throat."