Another checker lover,
by Harvey Griffin
shares his thoughts on this great game.
Fast Mover Poem
Fast Mover was a real checker nut.
Everywhere he went,
he carried a checkerboard under his arm,
but never any checkers.
At the institute where his doctor had him committed for observation,
another patient asked him to play a game.
“Can you handle the Octopus?”
Fast Mover asked.
“No, man, I don’t mess
with no octopus,” the other patient turned and hastened away.
The doctor of the ward sent for Fast Mover to come to his office.
Of course, he took the checkerboard under his arm.
“Where are your
checkers?” the doctor asked him.
any,” Fast Mover replied.
“I know all the
games by heart. Want to play a game?”
“Sure, you move
first,” the doctor told him,
wanting to placate his patient.
“Okay, 11-16,” Fast Mover offered.
“Then I'll go 47-49,”
his doctor countered.
“That’s a losing
move,” Fast Mover exulted,
where upon he picked up his board.
When Fast Mover left the hospital grounds,
staff members were running this way and that trying to locate him.
One attendant run up and asked a man,
“Have you seen a crazy man come by here?”
“What does he look like?”
“He’s about your height
and he’s carrying a checkerboard under his arm like yours.
But he doesn't have a mustache like yours.
If you see him, let us know,”
the attendant turned and ran off.
Fast Mover took his finger from under his nose and chuckled,
“That ‘Cook’ sure worked.”
Fast mover checkers poem, a good game of checkers,
by Harvey Griffin.