From The Inside Out

People within his power were seeking knowledge, and knowledge is what he offered them. The game is what he represented. It was a prostitute’s dream, and a pimp’s paradise. Everyone thought there was nothing in the little town of Fresno, California, except grape cutters and cotton pickers. However, seven true players rose up into the game in that town, and became icons of the lifestyle. No one played the game better then that seven. There were eleven players originally called, but seven of those were always a cut above the rest. They made an incredible impact on the game, and were called the Magnificent Seven. When these seven stood around in a downtown bar called the Elks Club, the women would stare at them as though they were edible fruit. Everyone loved to watch them, but were afraid to approach them. Every move they made was under close watch. After many years, though, they began fading in presence. One by one, 6,5,4,3,2, they faded, until there was only one left in the game. That one remained strong. He became the epitome of the game in Fresno.

Many macks fall and never recover. Their success ends when they lose their bottom lady. As a result, they end up either on the sidelines, or out of the game, completely. The game, though, keeps moving. Fresno stayed in rare form for many years. In the early 50's, the average prostitute’s lifecycle with a pimp was approximately six months. Back in those days, hookers were always choosing one pimp for another, giving her money to the next player in order to be his woman. Pimps and players termed these hookers Choosy Suzies, because the pimps knew they came leaving. The only thing not known was the date they would leave. A mack’s job was hard. He had to keep his game in order and a hooker in pocket. He had to concentrate 100% on his business. He had to be real! However, remaining straight laced with no chase, abiding and upholding all the rules and regulations of the game came naturally to a dedicated mack. A mack’s job only begins when he has hookers to dictate his instructions to. That’s when his work is cut out to the fullest. In 1960, if you got a hundred dollars a night per hooker; you were mackin’ to the utmost. A prostitute had to turn ten tricks a night to get a hundred dollars. In actuality, she would have earned one hundred and twenty dollars that night, because it cost her two dollars to take each trick to the trick room. That was a lot of money in those days. A prostitute had to work hard, because she had a lot of competition. She had to work seven days a week. Sunday was usually the slowest, so that’s the day she had to work the hardest. Circumstances of the game made many prostitutes dedicate their lives to the game, because for many of them, the hard, flat, backing caused problems that led to hysterectomies. Some of them couldn’t handle the strain, and would steal from their tricks to keep up their earnings. It wasn’t a good policy to steal, but if a trick put himself in the position of a victim, the thief would have him. Some towns paid a lot better than others. A pimp was always looking for a better honey-hole where his money could grow and flow with the quickness of the town. Also, in the cities that paid better than others, there was a greater chance the hooker would catch a case. Often, though, a mack wouldn’t want to take chances, so he would feel that safe money in a cooler town was better than no money at all. Some cities were so cold a hooker had to stand on hot bricks to stay warm. In other cities it rained so hard, the hookers had to jump between the raindrops. Some macks pimped all the way to the Russian line. However, when they came back, their bank rolls still couldn’t compare to the money the players were getting in the little town of Fresno. During those days, Fresno was probably one of the safest honey-holes in the country where a pimp could put his hookers down and make some money. Being a true player is like having a fatal disease, mildly speaking. It’s like getting bitten by a flu-bug, only there is usually no cure. Believe it or not, the game is highly contagious. The only cure or antidote you can possibly use, once you’ve been bitten, is to stay sucker free. Accumulating big stacks of money quickly is habit forming, and living the lifestyle of the game is exciting. The glamour of the game is the disease, and it can be termed ‘Pimpalicous’. If you catch a dose of the pimpalicous, you may never shake it. Once you become a dedicated mack, the only thing left is to pimp or die! Being a player doesn't mean you play games. Don’t confuse ‘being in the game’ with ‘playing games’. A true player is in the game (the life) to stop the games from being played. You can look like a player, walk like a player, talk like a player, and you can even act like a player, but if you play games and don't have the mentality of a player, please believe, you will never be a player.

I know all three are in heaven now, blessed and missed. My sole duty in life now is to give my son another chance at his life. Because, as it stands now, politics in our state government and the California prison system has washed my son away on misdemeanor charges. This book is not solely based on glamorizing The Game (all facets of street-life; i.e., pimpin’, hustling, drug-dealing, etc.,) nor is it an attempt to justify the various aspects of any facet. The primary focus is on how some people handle the cards dealt to them in their lifetime, and to point out the results of their trials and tribulations. Moreover, the essence of this book invokes one question: Do you think you could have survived the trials of Mackman’s life you’re going to read about in Forced Into The Game?