The story of Joe Davis, 'Mr Snooker' or, as that greatest of all cartoonists, Tom Webster of the Daily Mail, christened him, the 'Emperor of Pot', is something far more fascinating, far more important, than one man's life: it is, in fact, the story of the creation of the game as it is played today by millions in many countries. Yet in the beginning it happened almost by accident.
Joe was a young unknown billiards player, champion of the Midlands, when he first came to London to challenge the great billiards stars of those days - the elegant Tom Newman, the stubborn little Melbourne Inman with his long flourishing action and the aggressive rattle of his cue, and perhaps four or five others who formed this exclusive circle. They played their fort-nightly matches at Thurston's, in Leicester Square, and at times in Manchester and other provincial centres.
I can almost, but not quite, recall the words in Tom Webster's cartoon on Joe Davis on his first appearance at Thurston's. It was cynically kind. The newcomer was short, thickset, unsmiling, unexpectedly aggressive in his style; his cue was short and heavy; his action was short and crisp. All this was in sharp contrast to his opponents, all of whom held a cue lightly, played long, graceful strokes, and used a long cue of about 15 ounces, whereas Joe's was nearer 17.
Despite these innovations, it was soon clear that Joe Davis was here to stay. Snooker, at this time, was virtually unknown, at any rate as a professional or first class game, whereas billiards, especially with the invasion of the great Australian Walter Lindrum, was developing such fantastic technical perfection among the top half dozen that the Billiards Association were continually forced to change the rules; otherwise breaks might have lasted indefinitely. As things were, a session ended when one player had scored 666 points. He might well extend the break over three sessions. But with the nursery cannon, most prolific of all ploys, sessions were apt to finish in an hour and a half instead of the allotted two hours. And that is how snooker was born. After a short session the spectators were entertained with a fun spectacle - a frame of snooker.
Of course, it is true that the game can be traced back to officers' clubs in India in the 1880s, and that there were sets of snooker balls in quite a number of clubs. But it had no public in the spectator sense until, as I have said, the professionals employed it as a 'filler'. To their astonishment (and, perhaps, chagrin) it was at once so popular that they began to add two frames of snooker to the billiards session. And quite soon it became obvious that there must be championships, both amateur and professional. So the first world's snooker championship was duly staged and duly won by Joe Davis. In fact, he never lost it.
And now, you are waiting to know, why was this? Why was it, in fact, that whereas Walter Lindrum proved the world's greatest billiards player, Joe could give him two blacks and a beating at snooker?
Well, now we have to go right back to the beginning of this article, to the description of his cue - short and heavy - and his style, short and crisp. Billiards calls basically for the control of three balls, and for this it requires a knowledge of angles; whereas snooker demands, first and foremost, dead accuracy of striking, and secondly, command of screw and the various types of stun. To pot one ball with another means that the cue ball must strike the object ball at the precise pinpoint, whereas the cannon offers a much larger target. Here, Joe's short back movement of the cue was all important. His action was always dead level, and although he used plenty of follow-through, it was always controlled, dead on the line and with no end-flourish. In short, snooker was made for Joe, and he knew it from the start. So he practised all manner of strokes rarely used in billiards, especially the stuns, those amazingly accurate little shots around the black which lead to the really big breaks.
Joe began to make century breaks. He began to clear the table - to 'take the lot'. He made the very first maximum of 147. And all this was news. People flocked to see the mighty Joe. He performed other amazing feats, as for instance during a match in, I think, Jersey, twice during the week he cleared the table of every ball without his opponent having a single shot. Joe broke off with a hard two-cushion stroke to bang into the pyramid from the top cushion, potting a red by this action, and proceeding to mop up the rest.
The rest of the story is for Joe to tell. My self-requested task here is to show how he developed and was responsible for this most popular game today. I will only add that I have known Joe ever since he first walked into Thurston's, that I watched him as a reporter of the game, and that I, like many others, have been proud to have him as a staunch friend, without any sign of the swagger which sometimes spoils our sporting champions, but on the contrary, always glad to welcome and help the 'new boy'. He has played more games for charity than anyone else I know. And what wouldn't he have contributed to TV's Pot Black!