SOME THOUGHTS ON SNOOKER
Evening Despatch, Thursday 18 October 1923
Important Details Which Should Not be Overlooked.
At the request of a correspondent who has just joined a working men’s club at Edgbaston, the “Evening Despatch” has obtained from a well-known Birmingham snooker expert the following notes and comments on this fascinating game which, together with those played on the immortal fields of Eton, contributed largely to the victory of the British Army during the recent manoeuvres on the Sussex Downs.
For the sake of their partners, their wives and their dependants, beginners are recommended to memorise the vitally important details set out below:
The Reds.—Infantry of the line. Splendid fellows if well treated. It is usual to pot a red before dealing with a colour—otherwise your partner is apt to indulge in such remarks as “solid mahogany from the neck up,” “who’s selling this game?” “go on. I’ll pay,” etc. Don’t mistake the pink for the red and then complain that somebody ought to have told you before you took your shot. Each red potted counts one —but if the other side aren’t looking it is possible to make an innocent mistake with the marking slider. Also, should the game be lost by a solitary point, it is considered bad form to argue with your partner as to whether he put on that red you potted earlier in the game.
The Yellow.—General utility man. Very much in demand when someone is tied up with a beastly snooker—he intends his shot for the black, misses it by a foot, and immediately claims that he went for the yellow. If all the ball had to be labelled, the ticket on the yellow should read “Little fish as sweet. Remember that a certain two is better than a risky five.
The Green.—The harbour light. Very handy for snookering after the other fellow has miscued. Liable to be overlooked because it is the same colour as the cloth. Safety players are fond of using the green as an excuse for tucking the white well under the “verandah” (or “kerb” or “cush”).
The Brown.—Plus four. One of the most exasperating colours on the board. Everybody thinks the brown is an easy thing—until the marker gets tired of picking the white out of the middle pocket. No player should attempt the brown unless he is a highly seasoned in-off veteran. People have been known to commit serious crimes after staggering in off the brown. The term “in a brown study” and the phrase “done brown” owe their origin to the frantic efforts of the early-Victorian snookerists to invent a safe method of potting the “London Town.”
The Blue.—A very fashionable shade, and much favoured by short-range cueists just before closing time. “In the blues” is a corruption of the original saying “In off the Blue,” both conveying the same impression. If a player pots blue seven times he is entitled to a certain amount of respect, but if he is a stranger and pots it 10 times running with a bet on he is likely to quality for a thick ear in the average billiard room.
The Pink.—Six of the best. An astounding number of snooker careers have been blighted through the lamentable misuse of this valuable ball, People at some stages of the evening are apt to be mesmerised by the alluring blushes of the pink. Long and fast half-ball shots at the pink are like balloon races in stormy weather— fraught with considerable danger. To go in off the pink is like losing a very near and dear relative. Men who do this towards the end of the game are perfectly willing to accept long terms of penal servitude. There should be a home for players who go in off the pink.
The Black.—Potter’s weal and potter’s paradise. The aristocrat of the snooker table. A man may be able to endure the sight of a street accident or the spectacle of the Villa losing by three clear goals at home, but when his partner misses the black life ceases to be worth living and the world is wrapped in a shroud. Only the other night the mutilated body of an unknown male was discovered in the centre of the Bull-ring with a splintered fragment of a short rest embedded in the heart. A marker at a secluded snooker den believes that the body is that of a stranger who was placing in a “four” at his establishment when the game stood at 49—43 against, with only the black to drop. The visitor forgot to chalk his cue in the general excitement with the result that he missed the black completely and his ball found a melancholy grave in the top pocket. The funeral takes place after dark this evening.
B.F.A.