Billiards

by William Broadfoot

Another fault very commonly committed is, where there are two ways of playing a stroke, men take the way they fancy rather than the way which will pay them best. Nothing stands more in the way of improvement than this habit. Very likely games may be lost by trying for a little more, and spectators are often too severe on what they consider as want of proper caution. But let them say what they like. If a player is honestly anxious to improve, he can afford to let the particular game take care of itself, and even if he lose a dozen games running, patient practice will bring its reward in the end.

I do not wish to be misunderstood. I am not advocating ‘playing to the gallery,’ merely for the sake of bringing off a showy stroke, but playing out on purpose to try for position. There is, of course, a time for everything. In a match involving a stake, or when competing in a club handicap, a player should throw no chance away, and play carefully and cautiously, especially near the end of the game with the lead. But in an ordinary game he should play out and try whatever comes. Though many shillings may be thus lost, it is comforting to reflect that they are really the fees for learning, and they will ultimately prove to have been well spent. Nothing is more melancholy than to watch a couple of men who have devoted many hours daily for many years to their favourite game, poking about with safety misses, white winners and double baulks, and spinning out a game of 100 to a weary length. In all those years they have not added one stroke to their battery, and they will go on to the end of the chapter, unimproved and unimproving, confirmed cushion-crawlers.

Just as at whist, there is such a thing as playing to the score, so there is a time to be bold as well as a time to be cautious; and many a match has been lost by over-caution. I once saw a game in a club tournament, where one of the players was immeasurably superior to the other, and, although he had given his opponent a long start, he had caught him 100 from home. He then took it into his head that his proper tactics were to play for safety on every occasion. The result was what might have been expected. His antagonist took a clearer view of the situation, saw that the game was desperate, and played out every time after the other’s safety stroke. There were many occasions when the better player, if he had taken the least risk, would probably have run up a nice break, and possibly have finished the game; but he waited and waited, and his antagonist got home. Clearly, with 100 to be made and playing on level terms, his proper course would have been to play his usual game, when his superior skill must have brought him in an easy winner. A player must remember that it is not enough to hamper the enemy’s chances of scoring; he has got to make the points himself.

The four-handed game, which is a very popular institution with the cautious, is one of the very worst schools for a young player with any enterprise. He will be drilled into everlasting safety, and if he is at all ambitious of playing a good game, he should avoid it as he would the plague. On the other hand, he should never lose an opportunity of playing with better players; for, although at first he will find the rapid scoring of his opponent very disconcerting, still, in time, the feeling will wear off, and the necessity for doing better will of itself induce improved play.

The tactics of the over-cautious school lead one to consider the question of ‘leaves’ as generally understood. The hard-hitting, slap-dash player, after having sent all the balls flying in various directions, will often bitterly bewail his luck if nothing is left after what he considers a brilliant stroke; and amateurs are prone to look for this chance-leaving as a fairly earned reward of their skill. The less one looks for this sort of thing the better. A leave which has been carefully planned and successfully engineered is more meritorious than a dozen of such, and will, in the end, bring a more certain reward. Nothing is more mortifying to the player who is honestly trying to place the balls than to find, as he often will at first, that time after time he has just failed, perhaps by a few inches, to attain the desired position; while a hard-hitting, careless friend is merrily scoring all round the table after strokes which have apparently hopelessly scattered the balls. Curiously enough, a large share of this particularly exasperating form of luck falls to the lot of the careless. I once saw a man make 62 without a fluke as popularly so-called, and yet every leave was the result of accident rather than of design. This is what one must be prepared for, and suffer gladly. Don’t be cast down or disgusted if the adversary drives a ball anyhow to the baulk end and finds an easy losing hazard left. It is all the more annoying because one cannot call this sort of thing by its true name—viz. a fluke.

Another form of annoyance is the fluked safety, which will sometimes run almost through an afternoon. It is very hard to bear, especially when the adversary takes spurious credit for playing a wonderfully safe game. If under these trying circumstances the temper can be kept, things will not only right themselves eventually, but a reputation for good-nature and saintliness may be earned.

That these things worry is not wholly discouraging. Unless one is absolutely indifferent to the game they must be felt, and the keener one is the more must their injustice be resented. But, after all, they teach patience and coolness—two very valuable allies—which have many a time pulled a game out of the fire, after it has seemed utterly and irretrievably lost.

Careful students of Chapter V. will have realised that perhaps the most important thing for the learner to devote his attention to is the winning hazard; but that stroke, at once the most difficult and the most important at billiards, is sadly neglected by the vast bulk of amateurs. Seldom, or never, is a break of over 40 made which does not involve a winning hazard, which must be accomplished in order to continue the break. All strokes are largely a matter of confidence, and this is especially true of the winning hazard. Unless it is played with the confidence which practice alone can give, the stroke seldom succeeds. Here pool comes in as an excellent training school. It is wearisome drudgery practising these strokes simply; but in the friendly rivalry of pool, with the added zest of a prospective sixpence, the winning hazard becomes quite attractive.

In a long spot-barred break a spectator, if his attention has never been directed to this point before, will be astonished at the number of times the red is holed, and, of course, the immense possibilities of the ‘all-in’ game are obvious to everyone. It is the spot practice, and nothing else, which has given the leading players their complete mastery over winning hazards; and though it is the fashion nowadays for even the most moderate players to declare ‘the spot’ tiresome to watch and not worth their attention, yet a little quiet spot practice will not be thrown away. Although the learner may not attain sufficient proficiency to justify him in going for the spot in an important game, still he will pick up almost unconsciously a notion of the right place to strike the object ball for a winning hazard, and, in addition, one or two little wrinkles as to ‘touch’ and ‘strength’ which will stand him in good stead in other parts of the table.

Another great point in winning hazard practice is that it directs the learner’s attention, forcibly and practically, to the dangers and disadvantages of misapplied side. In the first place, the hazard itself is rendered more difficult, and repeated failures will compel a learner to take pains to strike his own ball in the centre. And, in the second place, the run of ball 1, after impact with ball 2, will be checked or accelerated, as the case may be, to an extent which may lead to disaster. Young pool players, when playing from baulk on a ball at the top of the table with their player in hand, frequently experience the mortification of seeing their ball, after an unsuccessful shot, come back into baulk a helpless prey to the next player. It may very well be that they have not put too much force into their stroke, but they have probably struck it off the centre. In this, one of the commonest of pool strokes, it is of the last importance to avoid putting on side.