In almost every stroke in a break some compensation or other is used in order to control the paths of the balls. Strength is substituted for side or vice versâ; screw is increased or diminished according to the fineness or fulness of the stroke, which in turn involves variation in strength, and so on; substitution of one element of a stroke for another is constant, even though the player may scarcely appreciate the fact.
When player’s ball is near a cushion
CHAPTER VIII
THE SPOT STROKE
Hitherto the theory of the game and the strokes recommended for practice have been such as are required in learning to play a sound and perhaps old-fashioned game, that of an amateur in distinction to that of a professional player. But in dealing with the spot stroke a wholly new field is entered; much more severe and constant practice is needed if any real measure of success is to be attained, and if this cannot be bestowed the amateur would act wisely in never sacrificing an opening at the ordinary game for the sake of the spot. If he does so he will assuredly verify the truth of the old saying, that the spot has lost far more games to ordinary players than it has ever won. Still, it stands unrivalled as practice in winning hazards combined with getting position for another similar stroke; and even moderate familiarity with its variations and their results is of much advantage to the average player who cannot give the time and attention needed for their complete mastery. Hence he is recommended to practise the stroke as much as possible, and when some certainty in its execution is reached to take advantage of his knowledge and skill when favourable opportunities present themselves in games; but cautioned not to neglect ordinary openings for the sake and on the chance of making a few spots. It is difficult to say when that stage is reached at which it may be sound policy to throw up an ordinary for the sake of a spot break. Circumstances vary so much (and prudence must take them all into consideration) that what is wise in one case may be foolish in another, whilst it should never be forgotten that, as a rule, failure to make the hazard results in an easy break for the adversary. Taking a considerable class of amateurs, those who can occasionally make breaks of thirty, and who perhaps once or twice in a season make fifty, their average score is probably nearer four than five—that is, they take nearer twenty-five than twenty innings to score a hundred. Now at first sight it would seem that as soon as a player of this class was fairly certain of making three or four hazards he might reasonably discard the ordinary for the spot game, because such a break would be double or treble his average; but he would scarcely find it advantageous to do so; for, having made say four spots and failed at the fifth, he would leave the red ball over a pocket, so that an equal opponent was nearly sure of three, and might get six, in addition to the chance of making his average four. Hence the advantage is largely discounted, but very little more than four hazards as a measure of spot play will give the man who can make them a distinct superiority. He does not play the all-round game worse because he can make from six to ten spots; quite the contrary, and soon experience will act as a safe guide when to make use of them and when to play the ordinary game. If an amateur improves on this and becomes capable of making ten spots commonly and twenty occasionally, he passes into a higher class; the average of such a player would probably be seven or eight, and he has reached a stage to maintain which constant practice is required. Beyond this the amateur becomes gradually so merged in the professional that it is difficult to define the differences in their play, the excellence of which mainly depends on their state of training. This is specially true in respect to spot play; the late William Cook, whose delicacy of touch was unrivalled, has recorded that if he ceased to practise even for a week his execution suffered. So it will be readily understood that an inferior player, whose practice is much less, soon loses touch, and is very apt to hurt his game rather than benefit it by too persistent employment of this particular stroke.
The Long Rest.
On the other hand, the general game is greatly assisted by improvement in making winning hazards, and hence practice of spot play, though wholly insufficient for producing a spot stroke player, may yet vastly improve the all-round game. Without it the modern game played at the top of the table is impossible; that being, in fact, merely a development of spot play into which the element of cannons has been introduced, whilst the number of consecutive winning hazards is limited.
Again, of all breaks made on the table none is more genuine, none owes less to chance, than a series of spots; and it is far from impossible that its monotony, as it is called, does not in a great measure arise from the absence of luck. Partly, at any rate, from this, and partly because the complaint of monotony was judiciously fanned by those whose performances at this stroke were not of the highest order, spot play fell out of fashion, and in the present state of public knowledge and education in matters concerning billiards it is not likely to resume the position it legitimately held for many years. As has happened to the spot stroke, so in course of time and with far more reason will cushion nurseries of cannons be in turn abandoned; but what will take their place it is difficult to say. It may, however, be safely affirmed that the former, having genuine value, will continue to influence the game, and consequently will be practised; whilst the latter, being made by trick, of little service beyond the continuation of the series, will when once discarded perish for ever.
The positions and their variations from which the spot stroke should be practised have been defined in most books on billiards, amongst which the treatises by Bennett, Cook, and a small volume by Mr. J. P. Buchanan may be mentioned. There is no new position to illustrate, and even the modes of play do not greatly vary, though where one player will elect to get position from two cushions, another will obtain it from one. And it is well to remark here that perhaps in no strokes do the different qualities of ivory and bonzoline balls make themselves so evident; whilst with ivories in a certain position a following stroke off two cushions would be the preferable mode of playing, with bonzoline balls it would undoubtedly be better to play a stab from one cushion only. In some strokes the advantage clearly lies with ivory, in others as clearly with bonzoline; and so it may be said than on the whole the merits of either sort of ball are about equal. But bonzoline is cheaper, and can be got more uniformly accurate in shape and weight, hence it is not unlikely to supersede ivory in a great measure; therefore, a mention of the differences of behaviour as a warning to players is not out of place in this chapter. It is of course understood that some sets of bonzoline balls are more like ivory in behaviour than others, and then the warning is scarcely required; but in other sets the difference is marked and cannot safely be neglected. When playing it is better to adhere to one or the other sort of balls, and to practise with the kind selected. It is also desirable to practise each position and variation separately till confidence is acquired, and then gradually try to make breaks. It will often be found that, after certain positions have been fairly mastered, the work at a new one will cause the student to forget what he has learnt, and to fail when an old position recurs. For this there is no remedy save practice. The same thing occurs in other strokes, and those whose memory is retentive have no doubt a great advantage over those who soon forget, and the only way in which the latter class can at all compensate for their defect is by working harder and longer at each stroke. By resolute labour they may bring themselves on a par with their more fortunately constituted brethren. It is an ordinary experience that at one time a player excels at winning hazards, at another he succeeds with every follow, whilst he fails with every screw; again, he will find much certainty in playing fine strokes one day, whilst the next he can do none but the simplest of that sort. So it is with the spot stroke, and against failure there is no remedy but hard work, involving not improbably a return to the simplest one-ball practice to correct inaccurate delivery of the cue. In playing or practising the spot, the cue should be constantly chalked, or the requisite delicacy of touch will be lost, and miss-cues will result; side should never be used when the stroke is possible without it, for the actual hazard is by its use at once made a difficult stroke. Stab or screw are much safer because the cue is delivered on the central vertical line of ball 1, and they can in a great measure supersede side, but there are strokes in which the latter is obligatory. Again, contrary to what is often recommended, a free style of stroke is, we believe, to be preferred to very great delicacy. The latter is often the result of timidity or nervousness, which is sure to be soon fatal to accuracy; it also places the player far more at the mercy of untrue balls or table. Readers whose experience dates from the early seventies will understand precisely what is meant if they recall the play of William Cook and John Roberts, junior. When balls, table, and player were all that could be desired, Cook’s delicacy of play gave him a distinct advantage at the spot; but let any little disturbing element intervene, and Roberts’s freedom of stroke carried all before it. It was a far better style for lasting, and rendered him far less dependent on absolute perfection of implements. It is just the same in other strokes—trying to be too clever, too delicate in strength, is not to be recommended; in nursery cannons it results in leaving the balls touching after every third or fourth stroke, whereas a firmer delivery of cue will result in a far longer break. No doubt the general fault of beginners is to play too hard, and the reason is obvious; brute force in all things precedes science. But excessive strength is found often to cause disaster, and when that is realised, and the student has learnt how to compensate for strength, he is very apt to fall into the opposite extreme, and to play in too slow and hesitating a manner. Of two players, there is more hope for the one who strikes rather too freely than for the other who just fails from want of strength, for the man who is too quick rather than for the man who is too slow.