"I hadda get my old man to sell the second because I needed the money. Finally I told him sell the last one before my brother crashes it up. Wouldn't do it on purpose, but one day his wouldn't go so he'd take mine out." He grinned, one tooth gone, at my wife. "Sooner or later he'd crash the fucker."

My point is, Leonard has it easy. Bar stools in Florida are filled with guys who'll tell you their life stories, however sad, just for the company. In a big, open country dedicated to the pursuit of happiness, it's accepted: some folks will be confused about the methodology.

Up here in South Ont. the mantra is peace, order and good government. The government defines "Good". "Order" means common sense folks do as they're told. "Peace" means shut up about it. Those found at a bar contemplating their end of the stick are inclined to be sullen. And at five bucks a jar for suds, they sip. Anyone trying to create authentic street-tough dialogue for our rounders has more than a chore cut out, he has genuine, Ontario workfare.

Dunville resident Brad Smith gives it a run with One-Eyed Jacks, the story of washed-up fighter Tommy Cochrane trying to dodge palookaville by raising the cash to buy back his ancestral farm. He needs five large in four weeks, but then the setting is Toronto so it's only Canadian dollars. On the other hand, it's 1959 when fifty bucks was a solid weekly wage.

Cochrane tries shaking down friends, betting the gee gees, even a bout of honest labour. Two things he does not consider: a bank mortgage, or climbing into the ring with "the Nick", a prairie punk with a hay-baling right arm. You can see this coming, can't you? Fight promoter Mac Brady puts up five grand to set this match.

Smith presents a colourful cast: Fat Ollie the professional gambler; T-Bone Pike, Cochran's black and true blue side-kick; pornographer Tony Broad; some sharp street kids; even a night-club vamp named Lee Charles. She gets the best lines, and there are more than a couple of those. Smith throws in a few good similes too, a hallmark of the genre, but they get lost in a city of yak. These characters talk way too much to be really tough. The faintest reader has given each a couple of hard slaps and sent them to their mommas before Smith gets to solid action in the final chapters. When it comes, though, it's fast and messy, just the way we like it.

One-Eyed Jacks has a solid plot, with a decent twist at the end, but it's a good edit away from leaving the reader gasping. "Toronto the Good" had grit on its sidewalks. Maybe in his next effort Smith will get a little more traction.