Behind the Slammer


First up: Johnny Coleman, the highest ranking POG player in all of the World POG Federation history.  I did a little research and found that not only is he no longer 11, he’s also super rich.  Way to make me feel old and like a failure, Johnny.  Asshole.  Anyway, interview:


Amanda: So, first question: What was your favorite POG set ever?


Johnny:  Sailor Moon.  That cartoon has got the boom.


Amanda: …Anime babes that make me think the wrong thing.   Woah, where did that come from?  Enough
Barenaked Ladies, what happened to you after you reached the top of POG superstardom?


Johnny:  It was tough for a while.  My school suddenly banned it.  They decided that it was a form of gambling.  I couldn’t just quit, so I did the only thing I could: dropped out of fifth grade and hit the road.


Amanda:  Pro circuit?


Johnny:  For a while.  But, my school was right.  I was a compulsive gambler and I just didn’t know it.  In Vegas, I traded my POGS for poker chips.  My POG years prepared me for greatness.  You can see me on “Poker After Dark.”  I’m super famous.


Amanda:  But Poker requires thought and skill, playing POGS kinda doesn’t.


Johnny:  Ha!  That’s what you think.  Try playing in the underground.


So, I did.  Apparently there are secret underground clubs where people still play POGS and also still listen to Pearl Jam.  It was a rough scene.  But I dug up my glittery slammer with my initials on it and an old set of Goosebumps POGS.  And then, in the darkest corner of the seediest club in all of Eden Prairie, Minnesota, I found the other man I was searching for: Jimmy Conner.  He wouldn’t talk to me unless I promised that we could play for keeps.


We each put 7 in.  My turn.  None flipped.


Amanda:  You kinda fell off the map after ’95, how’s life been?


Jimmy:  The glory days are over.


Jimmy’s turn.  He wins one Pokemon and one “Be Cool Stay in School” POG.


Amanda:  You’re only 26.


Jimmy:  Sorry, I’m depressed.  POGS are my life, my passion, and I have to hide it from everyone.  My wife doesn’t even know.  I tell her I’m working late.  I just come here to try to take the edge off.


My turn.  I win 3.  Alf.  The pink Power Ranger.  And one featuring a teaspoon.


Amanda: You don’t think she’d be supportive?


Jimmy: I’m a grown man.  I have kids.  Everyone said it was just a phase that I would grow out of, but I didn’t.  This is who I am.  The only people who understand me are the few in this club.  Before this we had to meet in secret, dark allies and corners of the park.  At least here we can come together, listen to the Spice Girls and play for keeps.


Jimmy’s turn.  He gets a D.A.R.E. POG.


Amanda:  Are we still talking about POGS?


Jimmy:  What else would we be talking about?


Jimmy eventually won, which is probably for the best.  But sometimes, late at night, I pull out my slammer and think about heading back to Eden Prairie…

**** 

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About the author

Amanda Deibert is a writer and actress/filmmaker type in LA.  She currently works for HULU’s morning pop culture show, The Morning After, which you can giggle at on hulu.com.  You can check out the rest of her hijinks in writing and filmmaking at www.amandadeibert.com.  She lives with her beautiful girlfriend and 100,000 cats.

View all articles by Amanda Deibert

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