The opening of a pool is more or less stereotyped, all the players endeavouring to lay themselves under the top cushion out of harm’s way, the player being always in hand till white’s turn comes round; thus the last player—brown, let us say, in a five-pool—has to steer himself round the other balls that are clustered at the head of the table, and find his way down to baulk, as white is nearly sure to be high up; in a big pool the last player may have some difficulty, and it is well to remember that, as he can have any ball or balls up that lie between him and the object ball, he can, by selecting a good spot from baulk, have one or two such obstacles removed. The orthodox opening shot for red, by the way, is to play full on to white from a corner of the Ｄ, just hard enough to find the cushion himself. Plenty of drag should be used and no side. Side and screw are of no value except for position, or for playing a slow stroke which is wanted to travel quickly off the cushion.
The late William Cook once made a pool record. ‘Playing in a twelve following pool at his own rooms’ (I quote the words of a fine amateur player who took part in the game), ‘in 1881, he actually cleared the table, playing always of course on the nearest ball. He had taken 20 to 1 five or six times from spectators, and the excitement was intense when he performed this really phenomenal feat.’ As pool is limited to 12, Cook, like Alexander, had no more worlds to conquer; but his hazard striking and position must have been marvellous.
Doubles are of the utmost importance, and the strokes shown in the preceding diagrams should be noted. One may fairly play a middle-pocket double with extra strength if by so doing there is a chance of the double-double, though it is not strictly sound, and shows a certain diffidence as to one’s accuracy. Plants are rare.
A propos of doubles, the following occurrence is probably without precedent, but the story is absolutely vouched for. Three amateurs were playing three-pool. Red opened by doubling white into the right-hand bottom pocket. Yellow avenged white by doing exactly the same to red, and white made matters even by treating yellow to a precisely identical shot. Strange to say, red with his second shot holed white just as before—four consecutive doubles into the same pocket—and, though yellow spoiled the average by only doubling red into the right-hand middle pocket, white made things all square and yellow disappeared into the original pocket. Thus six consecutive doubles were made, five of them into one pocket! What are the odds against such a performance?
As even in these enlightened days the confidence trick flourishes, it may be worth while to warn beginners against innocent strangers. If these win by sheer skill, there is nothing to be said against them, and the best thing is to put down one’s cue; if they are sharps as well, they will probably hunt in couples, on the chance of one playing next to the other, when the first player, curiously enough, never quite gets safety and always leaves a ball over the pocket. I remember just such a pair, a good player and a duffer, turning up at some rooms I used to frequent, and, though none of us were innocents, they played so cleverly into each other’s hands, the apparent duffer making several slight mistakes at critical moments, that the good player had a pretty good time. Talking the matter over, we saw that we had been had, and, as we were rather a snug little coterie, arranged with the marker what was to be done if they reappeared. The pair had posed as absolute strangers and had come in separately, so we told the marker that if the duffer came in first he was to have a ball and we would try to warm him up, but on the good player’s appearance he was to be refused a ball, while we, a fairly sturdy lot, would see the marker through any trouble. All came off splendidly. The duffer appeared first and lost two or three pools, and when the crack walked in he was at once confronted by the marker with ‘I am very sorry, sir, but I can’t give you a ball to-day.’ We expected a row, but he took it like a lamb and decamped, and the duffer, after losing another pool or two, decamped also. One of our party saw them the same evening, hobnobbing together at the Criterion, so there can be no doubt that it was a put-up job. The following occurred to a friend of mine, a good billiard-player, a particularly good pyramid-player, and well able to look after himself. After a couple of games of billiards, on both of which he won a small bet, his opponent, a stranger and apparently a Jew, suggested ‘just one game of pyramids.’ ‘What shall we play for?’ said my friend. ‘Three and one,’ said the Semitic one, which means, as usually interpreted, a shilling a ball and three shillings on the game. My friend won by thirteen balls, but his opponent, after putting up his cue, offered him just four shillings and threepence, being at the rate of three pence a ball and one shilling a game! There was nothing to be done, but I wonder what the Jew would have claimed had he won by thirteen balls.
THREE-POOL
When four players only are left, and one of them is finally killed, the marker should be careful to call ‘Three-pool.’ Why this is so may not be apparent to the novice, and perhaps it will be cheaper for him to learn from a book than to pay for the information over the table. When four or more players are left in, the striker plays for a hazard, and, whether successful or not, he has no further anxieties beyond the safety of his own ball; but in three-pool a new element is introduced: he must consider where the object ball will finally stop if his hazard fails, and the middle of the table is the very worst position for it. A moment’s thought will show the reason. A., B., and C. are three players: B. plays on A., lays himself safe from C., and leaves A. in the middle of the table. C. having to play on B., is now, in most cases, in a great dilemma; he has no chance of taking B., and with A. in the middle of the table may find it very difficult to get safety after he has played. If he has a long shot from under the cushion, he will probably leave A. a fairly easy stroke, in which case B. may suffer also, so that B.’s own carelessness, or his indifference as to where A. was left, may deservedly recoil on his own head. The amount of consolation meted out to him for having been sold will be the cold comfort of ‘You ought to have played three-pool;’ in other words, ‘You ought, while leaving your ball safe, to have also left A.’s ball in such a position as to make safety fairly possible for C.’ Again, it is only self-defence to leave the object ball near a pocket, in case of a failure to put it in; especially is this advisable when it is very hard for the striker to get safety, for it is clearly to every player’s advantage to have, if possible, a comrade in misfortune.
The general principle of three-pool may be more easily understood from Diagram VIII., which shows two cases in which the obvious stroke for ordinary pool would be quite wrong in three-pool. In each case red has to play on white, yellow being his player. In No. 1 red has a hazard in the middle pocket, but it is not particularly easy, and must be played slowly, so that if it fails white will very likely be thrown by the lower jaw of the pocket to about A, while red drops slowly down to B. Yellow has the poorest chance of escaping white next time, and, being extremely indifferent to what becomes of red, will probably sell him, as he deserves. If red plays the game he will dribble white down towards the left-hand bottom pocket, and be himself safe at C, when yellow will not be forced to run any risks. In stroke 2 it is tempting to play for the double into the middle pocket with strong right-hand side and screw, so as to get near the spot off three cushions; but as this would probably leave white in the middle of the table, and yellow would be in hopeless trouble, the right stroke is an attempted double into the bottom pocket, when left-hand side and screw will leave the striker safe, and yellow will have no difficulty in getting safe also, while, further, the striker will have the best chance in the subsequent finessing.
SINGLE POOL
Many of the more ordinary strokes required at this game have already been discussed; but, as single pool is a most scientific and interesting game per se, it deserves a few lines to itself. As the striker is always playing on his player, the problem of safety is quite different. Two general maxims should be writ large in the striker’s mind: (1) Leave the balls as far apart as possible; (2) Never play for a middle pocket unless it is a certainty. The first of these requires no comment: a moment’s thought will show the importance of the second, which applies equally to doubles and to direct shots, as a stroke for the middle is sure, if it fails, to leave the adversary’s ball in the middle of the table, when he will either have a good chance of a hazard or no difficulty in getting safe.