EVERY-DAY BILLIARDS

By A. H. Boyd

As a great deal of the instruction contained in this volume may be too scientific for the ordinary amateur, it has occurred to me that a few simple hints, from a moderate player, who has experienced, and is daily meeting, difficulties which possibly a brilliant performer hardly understands, may be of some assistance to those who, like himself, are fond of the game, appreciate its fascinating variety, and are honestly anxious to improve.

The correct method of playing almost every stroke that is likely to occur in a game has been so lucidly laid down in previous chapters, that my efforts will be limited to pointing out where moderate players are apt to go astray, and to dealing with a few salient points, in the hope that I may be able to show what to avoid, rather than what to do or how to do it.

By the moderate player I mean the average player as found in the average club billiard-room, a man who is capable of running up 20 or 30, and who has on certain happy days passed the Rubicon of 50.

I believe the use, and particularly the abuse, of the expression ‘power of cue’ has led to more slipshod play, and done more harm to young players, than anything else. In ninety-nine billiard-rooms out of a hundred a steady, unpretending player, who makes simple strokes with tolerable certainty and with fair strength, is considered a far inferior performer to the gentleman who plays every hazard with side on his ball, who delights in extravagant screw shots, but who is supremely indifferent to the subsequent career of the object ball. ‘Power of cue’ unfortunately, as understood by ordinary billiard-players, means want of command of cue. The mere power of imparting side, or making screws, though valuable enough in itself, falls very far short of ‘power of cue’ as rightly understood. The real meaning of the expression is the ability to combine the various elements, such as side, screw, follow, or stab with varying strengths, so as to convert a forcing shot into a soft screw, or a gentle stroke into a fast and fine shot, always with a view to improved position.

Without the power of control or combination, the power of imparting side may be and very frequently is positively harmful. An enormous number of young players with a certain amount of aptitude for the game become so enamoured of this showy gift that they insensibly drift into the habit of playing every stroke, however simple, with side, and become absolutely incapable of striking their ball in the centre, thus increasing their difficulties at the outset. It is comparatively easy to strike a ball in the centre as often as may be desired; it is next to impossible to strike it on the side in the same place a dozen times running. Hence, players who habitually use side constantly miss simple shots, because the amount of side they put on is continually and involuntarily varying.

The worst case I ever met was that of a man who had allowed the habit to grow upon him so far that he could only strike his ball on the right side. The natural consequence was that half the table was practically closed to him: he would not attempt a jenny into the left-hand top pocket, and his long losing hazards were of course very uncertain. Many others there are, however, who, even when playing from hand, evince a decided preference for playing to a particular side of the table, and it is evident that, although possibly they don’t realise it themselves, they have more command of one side than of the other. If this inclination is felt, it should be fought down at once by playing for the opposite side of the table; and a little resolute discipline of this kind will soon eradicate the fault.

Curiously enough, moderate players rarely use side for following hazards near a cushion, although a liberal use of it converts an extremely difficult stroke into a comparatively easy one. The explanation, I imagine, is, that when they began billiards, they were told to hit their ball high in order to follow, and it is of course a difficult operation to put side on a ball that is struck near the top. They, therefore, do not choose to increase the risk of a foul by aiming at the side of the top, and take some pains to strike their ball on or near the vertical centre line. Did they but know it, the same pains expended upon the same object, when playing ordinary losing hazards, would rapidly improve their game.

It is easily understood that from near a cushion a pocket is a very small target, and the margin of error in aim reaches the irreducible minimum. So that this follow is rightly considered by moderate players who play it in the way I have described as difficult, dangerous, and hardly worth attempting. If, however, there is plenty of reverse side on the ball, and it strikes anywhere on the shoulder of the pocket, it is sure to go in.