The Billiard Monthly : December, 1912

 A Journal of Interest and Value to Amateur Billiard Players

No. 26, December, 1912

Price 1/6 per annum to any part of the world. Single Copies 1d

THE BILLIARD MONTHLY PORTRAIT GALLERY.

XXVI.—W. J. PEALL

W. J. PEALL: Spot Stroke Champion.

The Billiard Monthly : December, 1912

Billiards for Beginners

To play the game of Billiards you’ve got to learn a lot,
It isn’t simply “cannons,” “loser,” or a “pot”;
It will take you all your time to learn to make a decent
“screw,”
And when you think you know a bit, just try a “follow
through.”

But when you come to using “side,” it’s really almost
worse,
It’s years before you get to know the “running” from
“reverse”;
And though you think you’ve judged it right, it’s wholly
on the cards
That your side has spoilt your aim, and so you miss your
shot by yards!

In considering the cushions, your head will fairly swell—
When you wonder—”Is it fine with just a trifle side as
well,
Suppose I hit it nearly full, and if so will it “kiss”?
And shall I play with “drag” on that or drop down on to
this?

You will learn to know the cannon when it always will
be found
That whatever spot you play for, the ball will travel
round!
You try to do a “forcing shot” and nearly smash the
pocket,
Or put on too much “screw” and make it swerve like
any rocket.

You must peg at “losing hazards” for several hours a
day,
And cram up dusty Billiard books when you’re too dog tired
to play;
And when you’ve read and practised till your mind becomes
a blur,
You may get briefly mentioned as a “useful amateur.”

M. H. R.

[The above is kindly sent to us by a young lady student

of the game.—Ed. B.M.]

The Billiard Monthly : December, 1912

A Few Cue Tips

• A common piece of bad play is to spot in baulk for a halfball
  long-range loser into a coiner pocket without first noting
  whether the contact will drive the object ball towards
  the middle of the table after leaving the top cushion or
  towards the side. If the latter, the placing of the cue ball
  in baulk should, of course, be wider than half-ball, a little
  extra force being employed in the stroke.
• A stroke to know and to understand is the kiss stroke
  with the object ball against a cushion. With full contact
  the cue ball comes straight back; with half-ball contact it
  takes a right angle; and with aim mid-way between edge
  and centre it returns half-way between right angle and
  straight back. It can be played with confidence and nearly
  always comes off, besides generally leaving decent position.
• When a cannon ball or pocket is a little wide of the halfball
  angle some players (so-called) invariably force the
  stroke. By applying slow running side up the table and
  slow check side down the table and aiming fuller than halfball
  in the one case and finer in the other the shot can be
  made with ease and certainty and good position provided.
• Although half-ball shots are good it is a great mistake to
  play half-ball as a matter of course simply because it is on.
  Decide first where the object ball is to be directed and then
  make contact as required with the necessary strength, and,
  if necessary, compensation. This is the invariable rule in
  playing losing hazards and players who neglect to do this
  can never hope to make real breaks.
• It is an excellent plan, at stated intervals, to revert to
  single ball practice, in order to make sure that the aim is
  correct, and that the cue ball can be driven accurately towards
  a given point on a cushion with and without side.
• There are fixed positions on the table at which accuracy
  of aim can be tested with a single ball. These include
  along the baulk line and up and down the table over the
  spots, as well as diagonal and all-round strokes landing the
  ball into a given pocket or to a given point.
• A great advantage of regular single ball practice is that it
  begets confidence in a game in this class of stroke, as, for
  instance, when balls have to be disturbed in baulk, or cannons
  made by first striking a cushion, or a covered ball
  reached, or even scored with, when playing at snooker pool.
• And all the time the aim is being improved, because, on the
  same table, if kept at an even temperature, the angles are
  always the same, and whenever a plain stroke varies in its
  results there is positive proof that the fault is in the aim.
• An excellent test stroke, and one also useful in a game,
  when the red is over a bottom pocket and the striker’s ball
  is in hand with the white not nicely playable, is a dead
  central aim at the middle spot with the cue ball half way
  between two of the baulk spots. This should land the cue
  ball in the bottom corner pocket every time, and a slight
  variation of the cue ball’s position should bring it at will a
  little wide of either of the pocket shoulders when the red
  happens to be there.

The Billiard Monthly : December, 1912

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

 A Journal of Interest and Value to Amateur Billiard Players

No. 27, January, 1913

Price 1/6 per annum to any part of the world. Single Copies 1d

THE BILLIARD MONTHLY PORTRAIT GALLERY

XXVII.—MR. G. M. ROBERTS

MR. G. M. ROBERTS:
A ‘Nine Average’ member of the Billiards Control Club.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

The Roberts v. Gray Action

Dismissal of the Appeal

In the Court of Appeal on December 16, before the Master
of the Rolls, Lord Justice Farwell, and Lord Justice
Hamilton, the action of Roberts v. Gray was an application
by the defendant for judgment or a new trial on appeal
from verdict and judgment at trial before the Lord Chief
Justice and a special jury.

The action was for damages for alleged breach of contract,
as reported in The Billiard Monthly of March and
May last. It appeared that in 1910 the plaintiff was in
Australia, and on May 12, 1910, an agreement was entered
into between him and the defendant for a tour round the
world. The defendant had already agreed to play in England
from October, 1910, to the end of March, 1911, and
the agreement was therefore only to come into force on
April 2, 1911, and was to last for 18 months from that
date. On April 20, 1911, the defendant by his solicitor
repudiated the agreement, and the plaintiff therefore
claimed damages for breach of contract.

The defendant put in a number of defences, including a
plea that he was born on March 28, 1891, and was an
infant at the time of his signing the contract. This was
not denied by the plaintiff, but he contended that as the
contract was for the infant’s benefit he was bound by it.

Another defence was that the plaintiff had induced the
defendant to enter into the contract by a misrepresentation
that his obligation to play billiards with bonzoline balls
expired on March 31, 1911.

The jury found that the plaintiff did not make the false
representation alleged, and assessed the plaintiff’s damages
at £1,500.

A legal argument followed as to the effect of the defendant’s
infancy on his position, and the Lord Chief Justice
held that the contract of May 12, 1910, was a contract of
employment, and that, as it was for the benefit of the defendant,
it would bind him, although he was an infant
when he signed the contract. And he entered judgment for
the plaintiff on all the issues.

The defendant appealed, and in the present action the
Master of the Rolls, in the course of his judgment, said
that the appeal had been ably argued by Mr. Matthews,
but, having heard all that he had urged upon the Court he
(the Master of the Rolls) was bound to say that he saw
no reason to differ from the view taken by the Lord Chief
Justice. The attention of the Court had been called to a
great number of cases dealing with the extent to which an
infant might be bound by a contract made by him during
his infancy. He did not mean to say that there had been
no development of the law on the subject since the date
when the earliest cases were decided, but it was important
to remember that as early as Lord Coke it was laid down
that the doctrine that an infant’s contract for necessaries
was binding upon him applied not only to a contract for
bread and cheese and clothes, but also to a contract for education
and instruction.

That had been construed by the Court of Appeal in Walter
v. Everard (1891, 2 Q.B., 369), in which case Lord Justice
Fry had said that education must not be taken in the
narrow sense as being education to enable a man to work
to maintain himself as an artisan, but applied to education
and instruction suitable to the social state in which the
infant might expect to find himself when he became adult.

Then what was the effect of a contract entered into by an
infant in respect of necessaries including instruction? It
had been argued that such a contract might be good so far
as the consideration was executed, but that it could lot be
enforced so far as it was executory. So far as his Lordship
was concerned he was not aware of any authority for
that proposition, and he thought that the Court was bound
by the decision in Clements v. London and North-Western
Railway (1894, 2 Q.B., 482).

In that case the Court considered the contract as a
whole. Lord Esher said:—”If upon consideration of the
whole agreement there is a manifest advantage to the
infant, he cannot avoid it.” Lord Justice Kay said:—”I
agree with the Divisional Court that, on examination of
the whole contract, it is for the benefit of the infant,
although it contains terms that, standing alone, would not
be for his advantage. There is, therefore, no right on the
part of the infant to repudiate the contract.” Lord Justice
A. L. Smith quoted with approval the judgment of
Lord Justice Fry in De Francesco v. Barnum (45 Ch.D.,
430). “There is another exception which is based on the
desirableness of infants employing themselves in labour;
therefore, where you get a contract for labour and you have
a remuneration of wages, that contract, I think, must be
taken to be, prima facie, binding upon an infant.” Prima
facie, the contract was binding upon the infant. If the
contract fell within the class to which the doctrine of necessaries
applied, and on the whole was for the benefit of the
infant, there was no foundation for the argument that the
infant was not liable for damages. The Court had acted
on that view in Gadd v. Thompson (1911, 1 K.B., 304),
where an infant had been restrained by injunction from
committing a breach of a covenant in an apprenticeship
deed.

It only remained, therefore, to consider what was the
nature of the contract. Could it be doubted that playing
in company with so noted a player as the plaintiff was instruction
of the most valuable kind for an infant who
desired to make his living by billiard playing? The Lord
Chief Justice had held that the contract was capable of
being enforced as a contract for necessaries. He (the
Master of the Rolls) entirely agreed with that construction
of the contract looked at by itself. The Lord Chief Justice
then had held that the case came within the doctrine
laid down in Coke on Littelton (172A) and in Clements v.

London and North-Western Railway (supra), and had
given judgment for the plaintiff against the infant. He
(the Master of the Rolls) thought that judgment was perfectly
right, and that the appeal must be dismissed with
costs.

The Lords Justices also delivered judgments dismissing
the appeal.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

Things that Matter in Billiards

XXIV PRACTICE

In billiard playing, as in golf, and all other, games that
are played with a stationary ball, much depends upon the
attention that is given at the very outset—and preferably
under professional or other competent supervision, to the
primary act of striking. How the cue or club is held and
swung, the position of the body, the direction of the eyes,
and the estimation of strength, are bedrock essentials and
far and away more important than any attempts, whether
successful or unsuccessful, at actual playing. No sane
tutor either of billiards or golf would permit a student to
hit a ball before he had learned how to hold and swing
his cue or club, and no student, who intended to excel,
would dream of attempting to drive or to score before he
had mastered the elementary principles apart from which
any success worth having is impossible of attainment.

Yet, if those who seriously study billiard or golf essentials
at the outset may be reckoned by hundreds those who
plunge blindly and crudely into these games are to be
counted in thousands. Let any public billiard room bear
its testimony to the accuracy of this assertion. Let the
majority of the players be watched and almost every possible
billiard error will be found to be illustrated in the
course of a hundred up. An object ball will be missed
altogether, proving that the player’s body position was
wrong or that he had raised his cue and caused the cue ball
to swerve without adjusting his aim for the emergency; the
white object ball will be lost in a pocket or behind the baulk
line, proving that the striker had not taken the line of its
probable direction or had played too hard or too gently; the
cue ball will be stabbed or stunned when light or high cueing
is essential, proving that no thought had ever been given
to cue ball rotation; and to the “rotten, rotten, rotten,”
of the striker himself the onlooker will feel inclined mentally
to apply an emphatic “hear, hear.”

Under these circumstances a few lines under the head of
“Things That Matter in Billiards” devoted to simple and
profitable methods of initial practice may be found to be
not unacceptable to many readers of The Billiard Monthly.

There is only space to consider, in the present article, three
points, and these are: Cueing, strength, and ball direction.

The fundamentals of stance and cue swing may be learned
without balls, without a table, and even without a cue.

Let the left hand be placed flat On any table or bench with
the fingers and thumb together and the knuckles be raised.

That is the bridge, and the cue will pass over the knuckle
of the thumb, the tip of which may be raised a little if
preferred. The next thing to observe is that the right foot,
with the leg straight but easy, is in a straight line behind the
hand and that the left foot, a little out to the left, is pointing
towards the hand. Now the right elbow is to be raised
until the upper arm is exactly horizontal and the fore-arm
hanging perpendicularly from it. Meanwhile the face is
broadside to the hand, with both eyes in equal focus, and
thus, hand, chin, elbow, and the ball of the right foot
occupy an identical straight line. If now a billiard ball
were placed on the table nine inches in advance of the left
hand and a cue, with its tip touching the ball were placed
in the right hand in its state of pendulum suspension, the
exact position at which the cue should be lightly held would
be automatically discovered, and a little gentle swinging of
the tip at equal distances behind and before the ball’s imaginary
position might be indulged in.

So much for the body position and cueing, and now for
the vital question of strength. Numberless degrees of
strength are used by indifferent players, but it is doubtful
whether more than four or five are ever required, and these
may be learned for all time by a little preliminary practice
on a good full-size table. For the purposes of this article
we will call them Nos. 1, 2, 3, and A strength, and make
them correspond to a table length of travel of the cue ball,
with one cushion intervening for each length. At the outset
a chalk mark should be made six inches above the
pyramid spot and the three balls placed in a line across the
table at this point a few inches apart. No. 1 strength
should bring the balls back to the baulk line off the baulk
end cushion; No. 2 strength, played (with slightly more
than “stringing” strength) from the baulk line should
bring them again to the baulk line off the top and the
baulk cushion; No. 3 strength to the same position after
three cushion contacts; and No. 4 strength again to the
baulk line after four cushion contacts. After the strokes
have been perfected in order, they should be taken irregularly,
and then the principle should be applied in the case of
No. 1 to the cross top loser or the loser from the middle
pocket to the spot; in the case of No. 2 to the in-off from
the pyramid spot; in the case of No. 3 to the long in-off
from the centre spot; and in the case of No. 4, to a forcing
stroke into a top pocket. The extension of the same system
and principle to other requirements and intended positionings
would follow, as a matter of course until proper
strength selection became instinctive and automatic.

There remains to be considered the question of ball direction,
which is a great stumbling block with many amateurs.

Professionals develop a species of double-sight in this particular
as the result of sustained observation and experience,
but anyone who has never seen a billiard table can easily
be shown how to forecast the run of an object ball. Such
an one would only need to remember that the ball must
take a direct course from the point at which it is struck and
that the aim must always be twice as for from the centre
of the ball as viewed direct, as is the distance from such
centre of the part of the ball to be struck. Thus, when
the point to be struck is half an inch from the centre as
viewed from the position of the cue ball, the aim must be
at the edge, whereas if the part to be struck is the extreme
edge, the aim must be an inch wide of the edge, and so on.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

The Billiard Room as A Social Rendezvous

Some serious-minded persons were (says The Gentlewoman)
discussing the lamentable growth of card gambling
among women and the disastrous effect it is producing upon
the morals, the manners, and the purses of those who constantly
indulge in the habit. Various alternatives were suggested,
such as devotion to philanthropic work, outdoor
exercise, public service on boards, and so forth, when it was
pointed out that these occupations, admirable as they were,
Could not be continued at all hours, and that it was highly
necessary that women should be furnished with some sort
of indoor recreation which should take their minds completely
away from the more serious duties of life. Cards
being barred on account of their unhealthy excitement, some
one mildly hinted at Billiards. The idea was taken up
with enthusiasm, and in a few weeks’ time it became so
popular that in a number of houses the deserted billiard
room became night after night the centre of life and
activity.

It is remarkable how the billiard room in most houses
has been neglected. A couple of decades ago it was the
favourite resort of men and women after dinner, but the
fair sex never made any great show at the game, perhaps
for the reason that they preferred the gossip to be found
there to the game itself Yet what better indoor game
can be found? Every muscle of the body is brought into
activity, the eye is trained to accurate sighting, deftness of
touch is obtained, and nothing can be more graceful than
the sight of a beautiful woman bending over a table to take
her shot. Moreover, there 1s nothing of the rancour of
cards about the game, because very rarely is it played for
money, and no pastime is better calculated to foster a fine
sporting courtesy.

There is no reason why Billiards should not be the evening
corollary of golf. One can conceive of few better
training grounds for the “putting” green than the learning
of the strength of a table. District clubs could be formed
for handicaps. Mayfair, with its many sumptuous private
billiard rooms, might lead the way, and there is no reason
why, in these days of rapid inter-communication through
motor cars, country matches should not take place. There
is the germ of a movement in the suggestion, which might
lead to a much healthier way of killing time than the long
sedentary hours at cards with their heavy liabilities and
nerve-wracking anxieties. If only a few distinguished
leaders of society would take it up a revolution might be
effected in the postprandial habits of women, which should
be accompanied by untold benefits to the general health of
the sex.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

A Billiard Oracle

An Instrument that ‘Answers’ Any Billiard Question

As considerable interest appears to have been raised in
billiard and general circles regarding the “Billiard Pointer,”
evidenced by some remarkable articles that have lately
appeared in several of the leading newspapers, we have
deemed that it might be useful to present this month
an exact photographic representation of this instrument, by
means of which Colonel Western is able to arrive at such
closely-reasoned and accurate conclusions with regard to the
behaviour of all
classes of billiard
balls under all sorts
of conditions.

It will be observed
that the pointer consists
of five flat steel
arms, which are
moved on the pantograph
principle and
can be locked in any
position by means of
the wing nut at the
top of No. 2 arm.

The Billiard Pointer

The small hole in
No. 2 arm marks the
position of the object
ball and the arm
itself indicates the
direction taken by
the object ball if a
correct contact is
made. No. 2 arm
shows the direction
of the cue ball previous
to contact, and
the small hole at the
joint in this arm
marks the position of
the cue ball at the
moment of its coming
into contact with
the object ball. The
various aims and
contacts are provided
for by the scales on
No. 1 and No. 3
arms, those on the
former fixing the
points of contact and
aim, and those on
latter the angles of
divergence.

We should perhaps
mention here that
the slide on No. 2
arm, which shows
the exact point to
the one-sixty-fourth
of an inch where the
object ball has been,
or should be, struck,
does not stand out very clearly in the photograph, but it
can be seen at the ½ division.

The cue half-ball angles and the angles at all divisions
are, of course, shifting quantities according to the nature of
the balls and cueing, but taking 35 degrees as an average,
a cord stretched from the small hole in No. 2 arm marked
P, to 35 on the scale on No. 3 arm, will always show the
exact direction in which the cue ball will travel at whatever
division it may be struck, when No. 2 arm is pointing to
the starting position of the cue ball, and No. 1 arm is
pointing in the direction to which the object ball should
go, or when the slide on No. 1 arm is standing at
the division at which it is desired to strike the object ball.

All the operations are purely mechanical and no calculation
or knowledge of any sort is required.

There is one further
point to which
we must allude, of
which most of the
reviewers that have
referred to this ingenious
instrument
have fought rather
shy, probably because
it is a subject
regarding which so
extremely little is
known. All the
marks below about
37 on No. 3 arm,
which is the upright
one on the right of
the photograph, refer
to the SCREW
angles, and precisely
as with the natural
angles, and again
without any calculations
of any sort, the
path that the cue
ball will follow when
struck with screw
under any, and
every, condition is
pointed out. Enormous
possibilities are
here indicated. It
will hardly be questioned
that screw is
very little used except
at very close
strokes because
players do not know
exactly what will
happen, or exactly
where they should
strike the object ball
to produce a desired
result. Players have
the power and the
skill, but not the
knowledge. With
the knowledge which
the “Pointer” supplies,
the whole table
is opened up, instead
of play being confined
to a few specially-known angles. We foresee great
results when this is realized.

Finally, the authors claim, which as far as our experience
goes is justified, that the “Pointer” will answer any question
regarding how a stroke can be made or has been made,
suggests to us that it is entitled to the cognomen of the
“Billiard Oracle,” with, we think, a greater pretence to
that designation than the oracles of old, who might answer
but were not always right, and we have consequently so
styled it in our heading. It has at all events answered
two hitherto unsolved problems, viz., the relative angles of
the different natures of balls set forth in our last issue, and
the correct positions of balls for true half-ball strokes, and,
as far as we can see, it is quite capable of answering any
other conundrums relating to the direction of balls that may
be required.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

Billiard Players in Council

Is the Bonzoline or Crystalate Throw-off Greater?

To the Editor.

I have read with interest Col. Western’s article in this
month’s issue of The Billiard Monthly, but he has overlooked
the fact that different sets of billiard balls, though
of the same material, often throw different angles. Taking
ivory balls first, I remember years ago playing with a
set, the half-ball angle of which was quite as wide as that
of average bonzoline balls, and on the other hand a professional—
I believe it was Cook—has told me that he once
played a match with ivory balls which threw so narrow an
angle, that when playing the long in-off from the D with
the object white on the centre spot, the cue ball had to be
placed on a spot nearly 6 inches—instead of the customary
3½ inches—from the end of the D line. Indeed, it is a matter
of knowledge that professionals often speak of a certain
set of ivory balls as being wide-angle or narrow-angle balls
as the case may be.

Again, good players who have played with many different
sets of bonzolines or crystalates, are well aware that there
is often a considerable difference in the throw-off angles of
two sets of balls of the same size and make.

It would appear that Col. Western’s exhaustive tests have
been entirely confined to three sets of balls—one of ivory,
one of bonzoline, and one of crystalate—otherwise he would
not have made the error of stating that, contrary to the
general belief, bonzoline balls, instead of throwing a wider
angle than crystalates, throw a narrower one. I do not for
a moment doubt that this is the case with the sets which
Col. Western used in his experiments, but this is certainly
not my experience, nor is it the general one. I feel sure
that Col. Western will readily allow that the angle which is
thrown by any set of balls—not in degrees and minutes but
to practically the centre of the pocket—can be found by any
decent player—say a player who regularly makes sixties and
seventies—without recourse to mechanical devices. A few
trials by such a player of the long in-off from the D with
an object ball on the centre spot is all that is necessary to
discover which of two sets of balls throws the wider angle,
and if, as Col. Western remarks, the general opinion is
that bonzolines throw a wider angle than crystalates—this
opinion, of course, refers to the average balls of each make
—he may safely take it that this opinion—which indeed is
not an opinion but knowledge—is founded on truth.

My own experience derived from games played with many
sets of all three kinds of balls is that average crystalates
come off just slightly wider than average ivories, and average
bonzolines just slightly wider than average crystalates.

Col. Western’s experiments have all been made at No. 2
strength, but such a stroke played without screw or side is
a somewhat different stroke in a game of billiards from
what it must be in his experiments. The reason of this is
because a No. 2 stroke is a fastish one, and for such a
stroke without side or screw the cue ball would almost
always be struck well above the centre with the result that
the curve after contact would be fairly pronounced.

Like Col, Western I have absolutely no financial interest
of any sort in any make of ball, but I cannot help wondering
what the makers of crystalate balls will say if they read
that a crystalate ball diverges from the object ball 3 inches
more in 5 feet than an ivory ball when the contact is halfball,
and 4 inches more when the contact is quarter-ball.

Col. Western is wrong when he states that the recognised
standard size of a billiard ball is 2 1/16. The standard
size is 2 1/16 to 2 3/32. Consequently the composition balls,
2 5/64 and 2 3/32, with which Col. Western made his tests,
though larger than the ivory balls used by him, were not
over-size but strictly standard. As a matter of fact, professionals
when making a match often stipulate for 2 5/64
balls, which size is, of course, the mean between the
extreme limits of standard size.

In conclusion, may I state how very delighted I have
been to come across the current number of The Billiard
Monthly so far away from home.

Riso LEVI.

Shepheard’s Hotel, Cairo.

Dec. 10th, 1912.

Suggested Reversal of Red and White Ball Values

To the Editor.

I have a suggestion to make that I think is worth consideration,
as it appeals to the amateur style of play. As
the ruling of the game stands now, the winning hazard is
barred practically; the cannons are limited; and they are
talking of checking the losing hazards If they do, then the
whole of the game is penalized. My opinion is, and it is
backed by the majority of West End club members—that
the only thing that should be barred is the push stroke, the
spot, cannons, and losing hazard remaining in, as in the
original game. If professionals excel at certain shots let
them in their matches or tournaments to make their own
stipulations.

It is the billiard-interested public that keeps the game up.

What would the professionals do without them. Therefore
the rules should be made for billiard players generally.

Now for my suggestion. Instead of the red ball counting
3, let the white count 3 and the red ball 2—that is all. If
a player is good at losers he naturally will play on the highest
scoring ball, which would then be the white, and he
cannot regain position by potting that ball as he could at
present do with the red when his strength was faulty. The
white should be the highest counting, not the red. The
white is penalized if potted by remaining dead, the red is
spotted. Therefore the red should be regarded as the minor.

GEO. CLARKE,

Head Marker, Junior Carlton Club.

Dec. 7, 1912.

[The suggestion is a sound one, but even this would
involve a certain limitation and change, and personally we
should prefer to see the full game played by amateurs, with
no legitimate stroke barred.—Ed. B.M.]

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

Anecdotes About Dawson

(By George Nelson, in The Yorkshire Evening Post.)

Charles Dawson’s reappearance in London reminds me
that just before his retirement, some four years ago, I played
the Yorkshireman six day games, and during that time
Dawson mentioned some humorous reminiscences of his
long career. Dawson told how, before he became a professional,
he once won both the first and second prizes offered
in a big Christmas handicap played at Huddersfield. Asked
how he accomplished this apparently impossible feat, he
explained it by saying he won the first prize, and the man
who won the second sold it to someone who offered it as
first prize in another handicap which he, Dawson, also won.

Dawson and Peall once got a week’s engagement in
Paris to play English billiards. Dawson told me he did
not wish to play there any more. English billiards was too
deadly dull for the excitement-loving French. The only
thing they would look at was pyramid playing, for they
could understand a ball being potted, and, besides, they
could bet on the short games. So pyramids it had to be
and two French bookmakers were installed, who quickly
became more important personages than the players. Before
each game the players had to wait whilst the two bookmakers
invited the public to back M. Dawson or M. Peall.

As soon as all the money was got on, the game had to be
played.

I think Dawson has played for more money in England
than any living player, but he did not fancy the French
style of betting, which treated the players much as though
they were numbers in the game of rouge et noir.

A more kindly experience of Dawson’s was at Harrogate,
a place he was very fond of staying at. On one of his
visits he strolled into the billiard room of the hotel he was
staying in, and there encountered a party of five monks
from one of the conventual establishments. One of them,
not knowing Dawson, challenged him to a game. Dawson
declined at first, but, on being pressed, offered to play all
five of the holy fathers a 100 up level. These gentlemen,
who were fair players, thought they would teach such a
presumptuous player a lesson, so promptly took him at his
word. All the five followed each other, and did their best
to leave the balls, and only mustered 35 at the first attempt.

Dawson then just missed a cannon and the monks next, by
more careful manipulation, took their total to 76, but left
Dawson a good opening, which he utilized to get position
for the “spot” stroke, from which he ran to game. On
being told who Dawson was they were highly amused and
delighted at what they evidently thought was a very good
joke.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

Billiards: the Strokes of the Game

We have received Part III. of what may almost be termed
a monumental work on the game of billiards. Even if it
be true that no two strokes in the game of billiards are
alike, we should still conjecture the belief that they must
all be here, for even in this third part there are no fewer
than 422 diagrams, each accompanied by precise wording,
which is further elaborated in the general letterpress. Altogether
the three handsome quarto volumes run to nearly
800 large pages, in which no space is lost, as the thousand
or so of diagrams are all embedded in the text. If a page
had been devoted to each, the entire work must have run
to something like three times its already liberal bulk.

The author, Mr. Riso Levi, has been engaged on his
work for several years, and he now says that if he had
known how heavy a task he was undertaking he might
have hesitated before beginning. All the same, we consider
that he has rendered a distinct service to billiards by
his nine years’ work, which now places in the hands of
students of the game an answer to most queries than are
likely to arise in the mind during practice.

The subjects dealt with in Part III. are:—Screw cannons
from the D; long distance cannons—object balls close together;
cannons—hitting a cushion first, gathering cannons; cannons off double baulks; nursery cannons and close
cannons; rocking cannons; pendulum cannons; cradle cannons; the jamb stroke; getting position for a drop cannon;
drop cannons; getting position for top-of-the-table play;
top-of-the-table play; pique and masse strokes; single
and double baulks; safety play; some little-known strokes;
and transmitted side and cushion-imparted side.

An interesting and useful portion of the volume is the
prefatory pages, in the course of which the author reviews
such intimately interesting points as centre pocket in-offs
(in which the avoidance of side is counselled); the down-to-the-cue pose (which is advocated); the ball to look at last
(which the author thinks should be the object ball); and
the best class of balls (in which matter compositions are
advocated).

If the very exhaustiveness of this work should tend to
act as a deterrent to some purchasers two points might profitably
be borne in mind. One of these is that the volumes
are extremely valuable for reference as well as for sustained
reading, whilst the diagrams, with their brief illustrative
foot-notes are a separate and easily-grasped work in themselves.

Measurements are given in all cases, and the student
who glanced through these clearly-pictured strokes—in
nearly all cases leading to subsequent good position—and
made notes of those which he regarded as offering some
new suggestion, would not be long in deriving substantial
benefit from his investigation.

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

A Few Cue Tips.—XXVII

• Quick play is better than unduly slow play, if only for
  the reason that it engenders confidence instead of nervousness
  and indecision, but a stroke should never be made,
  however quick the play, until a clear decision has been
  taken and the proper body attitude assumed.
• The very best class of private practice is to place the balls
  in a given position and endeavour from that position to
  make as long a break as possible. This compels attention
  and care with every stroke, apart from which good billiards
  cannot be played.
• If inclined at any time to believe that you can strike a
  ball accurately, try the following experiment. Place a
  white ball on the pyramid (or even the centre) spot and put
  one of the other balls on each side of it. Now get a thick
  postcard and, with your finger on the spotted ball press the
  card gently down on each side of this ball so that, when
  the central ball is removed, the distance between the remaining
  two balls is 2 1/8 inches or slightly more. Now try how
  many times you can send the cue ball through this space
  without touching either of the balls.
• It is usually believed that the angle of incidence on a
  billiard table cushion equals the angle of reflection. It does
  not, however, even with gentle strokes. To prove this
  make two marks on a bottom side cushion, one exactly
  midway between the centres of the two pockets and one
  an inch below it. If you aim at the lower mark the ball
  will strike the upper one—or the exact centre of the cushion
  — but it will reach the lower shoulder of the opposite corner
  pocket instead of its centre.
• In thick run-throughs with side the tendency is to deflect
  the cue slightly, but if apparently central aim is taken the
  side corrects the inaccuracy. Central striking and accurate
  aim are, however, preferable, as slight differences in
  angles can be provided for in this way.
• When in the cross in-off the cue ball is anywhere below
  the lower shoulder of the top pocket running side is much
  better than check side. The stroke is easier and the subsequent
  middle pocket position is surer and better.
• A treacherous stroke is the quick thin in-off designed to
  bring the object ball out of baulk. The quicker the stroke,
  especially at short range, the finer must be the contact, or
  the near shoulder of the pocket will inevitably be taken.
  These strokes are better taken without side unless the pocket
  is very blind.
• Occasional practice should be given to short gathering
  cannons off a cushion. Put two balls near together, a
  couple of feet from a cushion and try to preserve a series
  of cannons by sending the object ball to the cushion and
  back to the other two.
• A stroke to be much cultivated is the short stun stroke,
  by means of which an object ball can easily be sent two
  table lengths, whilst the cue ball travels but a few inches
  and disturbs the cannon ball only slightly. This gathering
  stroke is quite simple, although viewed with some awe by
  many players

 

The Billiard Monthly : January, 1913

A Journal of Interest and Value to Amateur Billiard Players

No. 28, February, 1913

Price 1/6 per annum to any part of the world. Single Copies 1d

THE BILLIARD MONTHLY PORTRAIT GALLERY

XXVIII T. NEWMAN

T. NEWMAN:

Probably the finest player of his age in the profession.

The Billiard Monthly : February, 1913

The B.C.C and B.A. Amalgamation and Chairmanship Proposals

The following communication from Mr. G. H. Nelson,
secretary of the B.C.C. was issued to the Press on January
8:—

For reasons which seemed to them sufficient, the Council
of the Billiards Control Club have hitherto abstained
from replying to the many and repeated references in the
public Press to their position in the matter of the proposed
amalgamation with the Billiard Association.

This reserve they would prefer, on general grounds, to
maintain; but the terms in which the more recent allusions
to the subject have been couched notably the article by
“Hazard” in the “Sporting Life” of December 31st last
have suggested to the Council that their powers of usefulness
may conceivably be impaired by the attitude of simple negation
which they are incorrectly assumed to have taken up.

Since frequent mention has been publicly made of the
point which led to the failure of the recent negotiations,
there can, it is submitted, be no advantage in treating it
as other than a known fact. I refer, of course, to the
chairmanship of the two bodies subsequent to amalgamation.

The Billiards Control Club Council were originally given
to understand that the proposals for amalgamation could
not be entertained unless a certain member of the Billiard
Association was accepted as a permanent chairman of the
future joint council. This condition was plainly an impossible
one, and upon the occasion of the meeting between
the sub-committee of the B.A. and the B.C.C., a modification
of this proposal was put forward, and our representatives
were informed that the member in question must be
the chairman for the first year, with a council under him
of equal numbers of B.A. and B.C.C. members, in which he,
as such chairman, would have casting-vote.

At this point it became necessary to say that the members
of the Council of the Billiards Control Club were not willing
to serve under the chairmanship of the member of the
B.A. referred to, that the fact of the unwillingness was
known to and admitted by the sub-committee of the B.A.
before they attended the meeting of the representatives on
November 7th, 1912, and that it was openly referred to at
the meeting itself. Notwithstanding this knowledge, the
chairmanship of the gentleman in question was over and
over again insisted upon as an absolute sine qua non. There
was no question of the “plums of office”; no reference to
any other shares in those refreshing fruits (except the
secretary of the B.A., as to whom it was quite
agreed that he should be provided for); and no indication or
suggestion whatever that the “B.C.C. object to any of the
plums going in the direction of the B.A.”

The point upon which the negotiations broke down was
the insistence upon the chairmanship, and casting-vote
being conferred upon the B.A. nominee. This proposition
duly reported to a subsequent meeting of the B.C.C
Council as one from which no departure could be considered
the members of the latter body were reluctantly obliged
to regard as barring the way to any further pour-parlers.

This result is to be regretted. At the same time it is the
opinion of the Council of the Billiards Control Club that
the formulation by arrangement between the two bodies of
one set of rules for billiards is in the highest degree advisable
in the interests of the game.

 

Billiards Control Club

Autumn Handicap on Average

The results in the above competition (the heats of which
are 500 up) are:—

• Mr. P. G. Ernst (av. 8) beat Dr. G. W. Isaac (av. 8) by 85.
• Mr. A. N. McNicoll (av. 6) beat Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
  (av. 7) by 23.
• Rev. D. J. Thomas (av. 5) beat Mr. Alfred J. Peters (av. 7)
  by 103.
• Mr. G. M. Roberts (av. 9) beat Mr. S. L. Mann (av. 8) by 73.
• Mr. W. J. Gask (av. 9½) beat Mr. A. E. Fox (av. 7) by 217.
• Dr. C. S. Murray (av. 8) beat Mr. W. J. Jacomb-Hood (av.
  5) by 16.
• Mr. J. H. Kino (av. 7) beat Mr. A. W. Webb (av. 7) by 75.
• Mr. C. S. Morris (av. 7) beat Mr. W. Herbert Fowler (av.
  10) retired.
• Mr. R. K. Inman (av. 5) beat Mr. C. Baker (av. 5) by 4.
• Rev. R. du F. Bryans (av. 7) beat Mr. W. Bessemer
  Wright (av. 7½) by 103.
• Colonel G. Ommanney (av. 8) beat Mr. A. Hatchard (av.
  10) by 175.
• Mr. W. Burlinson (av. 10) beat Mr. H. Sharman (av. 5) by
  130.

In the 2nd Round the results are as follows:—

• Sir J. Dimsdale (av. 6) beat Mr. M. Roberts (av. 8) by 24.
• Mr. P. G. Ernst beat Mr. Spencer H. Gollan (av. 9) by 136.
• Mr. A. N. McNicoll beat Rev. D. J. Thomas by 11.
• Mr. G. M. Roberts beat Mr. W. J. Gask by 54.
• Mr. J. H. Kino beat Dr. C. S. Murray by 108.
• Mr. C. A. Morris beat Mr. R. K. Inman by 61.
• Colonel G. Ommanney beat Rev. R. du Bryans by 153.
• Mr. W. Burlinson beat Mr. H. Sharman by 130.

In the 3rd Round:

• Sir John H. Dimsdale beat Mr. P. G. Ernst by 32.
• Mr. G. M. Roberts beat Mr. A. N. McNicoll by 137.
• Mr. J. H. Kino beat Mr. C. A. Morris by 59.
• Colonel G. Ommanney beat Mr. W. Burlinson by 301.

Semi-Final.

• Mr. G. M. Roberts beat Sir John Dimsdale.
• Colonel G. Ommanney beat Mr. J. H. Kino.

Final:

• Mr. G. M. Roberts beat Colonel G. Ommanney.

The Billiard Monthly : February, 1913

Billiard Players in Council

Suggested Reversal of Red and White Ball Values

To the Editor.

My letter which you inserted in your last issue only partly
conveys my meaning. There are three points which I am
greatly interested in at the present moment, and I should
like to hear other opinions thereon. My first is that the
rules should bar nothing except the push. My second is
(as was mentioned in my last letter) that the red ball and
the white should change values.

My opinion is that the red, having no penalty when potted,
should represent the minor score, viz., two points. The
white when potted is dead to the player, so that the object
white has a limited life. This is my strong point in favour
of making the white count more than the red, instead of
less, as it does now.

I agree that this would mean a vast change to the game.

Well, the rules of late have had a lot of altering, but, under
the present different rules, the game is still not perfect.

My third point is of rather a personal character, as it
concerns my colleagues as well. We markers, under the
Billiards Control Club Rules, are in rather a delicate position,
as we have to claim all fouls on our own authority and
at times our only support is the rules.

GEO. CLARKE,

Head Marker, Junior Carlton Club.

January 4, 1913.

 

February, 1913

The “Billiard Room” of the House Agent

(From Punch)

There was no possible mistake about it. “Billiard room” those were the words; and as a billiard-room was
a sine qua non, and the rest of the description of the house
seemed satisfactory and its situation was agreeable, I chartered
a car at enormous expense—no one can call tenpence
a mile anything but enormous expense—and hurried away
with an “order to view.”

It was not a bad house. The agent’s printed words
and the edifice cannot be said exactly to have run in double
harness; but it was not a bad house. I don’t say I should
myself have called it precisely “old world,” but then I am
rather fastidious about epithets; and it was obvious that if
one of the alleged seven bedrooms was used as a dressing room
the number of the bedrooms would be reduced to six;
that is to say. the house possessed either seven bedrooms
and no dressing-room, or a dressing-room and six bedrooms,
but under no conditions seven bedrooms as well as a dressing-
room, as the specification would have you think. Still,
it was not a bad house.

Having seen all over it I asked the “caretaker on premises” if I might now look at the billiard-room.

“Billiard-room?” she said vaguely.

I showed her the agent’s list, with the smiling announcement
in black-and-white.

She read it, but was still nonplussed. At last a light
broke in. “Oh, yes,” she said, “I suppose they mean
the attic”; and she again led the way upstairs to a point
on the top landing beneath a trap-door in the ceiling.

“They mean that,” she said. “Would you like to go
up? There’s a ladder close by.”

I declined. A half-size bagatelle-board might conceivably
be insinuated through this trap and erected on the unstable
floor; but nothing bigger or heavier; and as for light…..

A Suggested Scoring Alteration

Writing to The New Witness, “X. L.” says:—

My suggestion would be that each successful shot should
count 1, whether a winning or losing hazard off the white
or red, or a cannon. A cannon-pocket would thus count 2
instead of an arbitrary 4 or 5, and a “cannon-floorer”
which can only be a fluke, would reckon 4, instead of an
arbitrary 9 or 10.

I have chatted this subject over with one or two friends
of late. One of them keeps a billiard room. He saw my
point, but suggested that the unit should be 3 instead of 1.

I saw his point, too, and countered it with the proposition
that he should charge, under the new regime, should it
ever be introduced, a shilling for 50 instead of for 100 up.

Where the table is paid for by the hour billiard room proprietors
would not be affected.

Another opinion, gleaned from a distinguished amateur,
was antagonistic. He emphasized the skill required in
manipulating the balls with a view to obtaining control of
the red. It seems to me that clever losing-hazard play off
the white should, if anything, be more generously rewarded
than losing-hazard play off the red, since, if you happen to
drop the red by accident or design, it is replaced on the
table, but the object white, once lost, is lost altogether so
far as that individual break is concerned. Hence the necessity
for the exercise of greater skill in keeping it in play.

I don’t deny that there is force in my friend’s argument,
but I do not think it is impregnable.

To the foregoing J. C. Squire replies in the same paper:—

The real and irrefragable case is based on the undoubted
fact that, within limits, variety appeals to the normal
human mind more than uniformity. “X. L.” may be a
severely logical man with a passion for exact mathematics;
most of us are not. Amongst people who are interested in
Rugby football there are always a certain number who
object strongly—on the grounds that the performance isn’t
relatively worth the points —to the allocation of four points
to a drop goal. They are the same people who are extraordinarily
angry if a side is beaten by two goals to three
tries. The try’s the thing, they say; and they believe that
only tries should count. Grant them their desire and they
would probably push their demands further, and want to
award points to each try in inverse proportion to the distance
between the spot at which the scoring player
grounded the ball and the middle point between the goalposts.

Limit the number of consecutive red losing hazards if you
like; but leave, oh leave us a few of our sportive differences,
our varieties, our freaks, our approximations, our surprises.

Let “X. L.” keep a guard upon his austere and
frigid mind, or he will next find himself requesting that
after every stroke a player should be compelled to declare
before a commissioner of oaths whether or not his shot was
a fluke; the balls, in the event of an admission of fluking,
being spotted. And let him remember that games: are but
models of greater things, and that just as there is one glory
of the sun and another glory of the moon, so also is there
one glory of the red and another of the white.

1800 – 1899

Professional players in the early part of the 19th century tended to be employed as Markers in public billiard rooms or subscription rooms (private clubs). Alternatively, and perhaps more commonly, they would be “hustlers” who frequented these rooms looking for money matches with gullible patrons. As a result billiard rooms were generally looked upon as gambling dens and not to be frequented by the better class of person, although there is plenty of evidence that subscription rooms in particular were attended by people of all ranks, including the nobility.

As the only way to make a decent living at billiards was to play money matches, most “professional” players tried to disguise their skill rather than display it, so as not to frighten off a prospective victim or to have the handicap of conceding start to a lesser player. Many players would additionally use a pseudonym in order to reduce their exposure to publicity, for to become known as a good player could result in an end to their livelihood. These players have often been recorded in history by these pseudonyms, with their real identity forever a mystery.

Jack Carr

The first professional player to achieve universal recognition for his outstanding ability was John Carr. John, generally known as “Jack” Carr began life poor if not honest, and as a youth filled the humble capacity of junior “boots” in the Grand Pump Room Hotel, Bath then much frequented by the bucks and beau’s of the period, not to mention the sharps. Going round early one morning to collect boots, Carr heard a heated conversation going on in the apartments of the well-known Mr. Beau Brummell. That celebrated gentleman was then going pretty strongly, it being before he “took the knock,” and his argument was with no less a personage than His Royal Highness the Prince Regent. They had just finished playing hazard with Charles James Fox, the great statesman-gambler, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and the discussion was on Beau Brummell’s claim that he would find a marker in Brighton able to beat all the markers in Bath, “one down the other to come on”, for 1,000 guineas. Carr heard no more, but this was enough for him to realize the great possibilities of a billiard marker. The following day should have been his day off, but, to the amazement of the hotel marker, he made a voluntary offer to remain in and help in cue-tipping. The following week he even more generously helped to mark the games, and two months later he helped the marker out with his boxes and the day afterwards helped himself to the marker’s job.

Carr was later employed as a marker for Mr. John Bartley, who was proprietor of the Upper Rooms in Bath. When business was slack Bartley and Carr used to amuse themselves by placing the red ball on the centre spot and attempting to screw into one of the middle pockets without bringing the red into baulk. It should be remembered that with the solid list cushions and course cloth, the table which was much slower than its modern counterpart. In addition, the leather tip for cues had only recently been introduced to England and players were only starting to come to terms with the possibilities it afforded.

For a long time Mr. Bartley was the only person who could achieve this feat and at last he confided to Carr that it was accomplished by striking the cue ball on its side. This well chronicled story is generally regarded as evidence that John Bartley discovered “side”. However, articles appearing in 1806 indicate that these effects were known at that time. This was well before the invention of the leather tip when chalk was applied to the plain wooden tip. No doubt the effects achieved by Bartley would have been more dramatic with a good tip, but it would explain why Bartley was so reluctant to make any claim to be the inventor of the effects which Carr would exploit so successfully.

Carr recognised its potential immediately and once the “secret” had been revealed to him he proceeded to develop the skill, rapidly overtaking the ability of his instructor. He regularly mystified the patrons of the billiard rooms with the performance of apparently impossible, shots with utmost certainty, time after time. To disguise his technique and maintain his secret, Carr would always aim his cue at the centre of the cue ball, only changing direction at the instant prior to contact.

Seeing an opportunity for easy money, Carr informed the patrons that the stokes could only be accomplished by use of his special twisting chalk, which he would supply as a powder in small pill boxes, for half-a-crown. If this had been the first time chalk was used then perhaps the purchase could be considered a wise investment, but the pill boxes were filled by grinding the sticks of white chalk which were freely available in Mr. Bartley’s billiard rooms. In fact the use of chalk to prevent miscues had been common knowledge for some time and billiard room proprietors chose to supply sticks of chalk rather than have players grind their cue tips into corners of the ceiling or walls. Mr. E. White, a contemporary of Carr, in referring to the use of un-tipped cues at that time, recommends that the point of the wood should be made rough with a file or “rubbed over with chalk”. This single venture of Carr was perhaps the greatest testament to his skill as a salesman and gives an insight into his entrepreneurial flair.

Unfortunately for Carr, in addition to his talent for making money, he had an equal ability to lose it just as readily through an incurable addiction to gambling and in particular to a fondness for a game of “Hazard”. After a particularly bad run of luck, Carr decided that a change of scenery would be appropriate and embarked on a trip to Spain. The Spanish game at this time was essentially the same as that played in England with the exception that five wooden pegs were also placed on the table and additional points were scored for knocking these over. Carr’s business instinct was well founded, as he beat all comers in the Spanish billiard halls. He made a tour of all the principal towns, amazing all who saw his exhibition of the “side twist”. However, Spain was even more amply furnished with billiard rooms than England, and although he managed to amass a great sum of money, he lost it as quickly as it was acquired.

He was eventually required to return to England in rather abrupt circumstances arriving in Portsmouth almost penniless. Despite his evident appearance of poverty, a visit to a local billiard room managed to find an opponent from whom he was reputed to have won the sum of £70. Carr proceeded to use some of the money to equip himself in a suit of clothes more befitting a gentleman and returned to the same billiard rooms the next day. His gullible opponent of the previous day was there and not recognising Carr in his new clothes, promptly challenged the stranger to a game, with of course the same result. After the game the gentleman expressed the opinion that he was truly unfortunate to have met two such good players on successive days. Carr then enlightened him of his mistake, thanked him for his money, and bid him good day.

In 1825 news came to England that in Cork there was a player named Jerry Flanagan who had accomplished the unprecedented feat of pocketing the red ball ten times in succession.

Some young bloods brought him to England and on 17th February 1825 Carr was matched to play best of five games, 100 up, against Flanagan who used the pseudonym of “The Cork Marker” for 75 guineas at the Four Nations Hotel in the Opera Colonnade, London. Carr won the first three games, 100-92; 100-49 and 100-75 to win the match. In the second of these games he astonished all present by making a run of 22 consecutive spot strokes. The feat was considered exceptional, although the editor of Annals of Sporting and Fancy Gazette which reported the match, makes comment that he had seen Carr previously make a run of 35 consecutive hazards.

“The ‘Cork-Marker’ made good play at starting, the first game being most beautifully contested and eventually won by Carr; his opponent, however, being within eight points of the 100. Certainly Carr was never in finer play; the execution was brilliant, and he made short work of the match, winning the first three games, and rendering further contests on the part of the ‘Cork Marker’ needless. The room was crowded by the billiard sporting world, and at the conclusion of the match Captain S-, Carr’s backer, challenged the metropolitan table, on behalf of his protégé for 100 guineas. In the second game Carr made 22 hazards off the red ball on the spot successively. Twenty-two! Indeed! We have seen him make 35 in succession off the red ball-Annals of Sporting and Fancy Gazette ”

An offer was immediately made by his backers to meet all comers for 100 guineas a side. Carr is regarded by many to have established himself as the first professional champion with this victory. There is no evidence that Carr was universally superior to all other players, apart from the willingness of his backers to support him. But perhaps this in itself is enough to justify the claim.

Edwin “Jonathan” Kentfield

However, Carr’s tenure of the “championship title” did not last very long. Shortly after he issued his challenge in 1825, it was accepted by Edwin “Jonathan” Kentfield. But Carr was fêted and treated altogether too kindly and on the eve of a match against Kentfield, he died. In the absence of any other challengers, Kentfield assumed the title of Champion which he would retain unchallenged for almost 24 years.

[It is known that Kentfield had played at least one game against Carr previously at Brighton, defeating him 100-99, as this is mentioned, without further context, in Mardon's book "Billiards" published in 1844]

Edwin Kentfield

Edwin Kentfield, better known as Jonathan, was born in Yorkshire although he spent most of his playing career in Brighton. He was a man of refined taste, very fond of gardening and other country pursuits. Generally not the type of person that would be expected to frequent the confines of a billiard room.

During his time as Champion, Kentfield was proprietor of Subscription Rooms in Manchester Street, Brighton and spent a great deal of his time developing ideas for improving the equipment and tables used for billiards. In this he was supported by John Thurston who operated his own firm of cabinet makers who had switched to the exclusive manufacture of billiard room furniture in 1814. Indeed, this appears to have been Kentfield’s main contribution to the game, as his record as a player, barely merits his retention of the Championship title for so long. However, John Thurston had a high regard for Kentfield’s advice which he turned to great commercial advantage, developing his company into the leading English manufacturer of billiard tables and accessories. The association of Kentfield and Thurston was very important to the improvement of playing conditions over the following years and Kentfield’s subscription rooms were always equipped with the latest innovations.

[Mardon suggests that Kentfield's Room had only one table]

Kentfield was adept at the spot stroke, but did not generally approve of its use or consider it to be true billiards. His preference was the in-off game played at gentle strength. To restrict the spot stroke he developed a table with Thurston which had very small pocket openings and it was on this table that Kentfield always practised. One of the patrons of his Subscription Rooms described it as follows “The table is extremely difficult. It is perhaps the fastest in England and has pockets of the smallest dimensions. The spot for the red ball is barely 12″ from the cushion, the baulk circle only 18″ in diameter and the baulk line only 22″ from the bottom cushion”.

It is difficult to gauge the ability of Kentfield compared to the Champions who succeeded him, as the equipment and playing conditions, even in Kentfield’s “state of the art” billiard rooms, were much inferior to those found later in the century. Games also tended to be of much shorter duration, commonly being no more than 24 up. This gave little scope for Kentfield to demonstrate his ability to compile large breaks, although it is recorded that he would regularly complete a game of 24 up at a single visit.

But if conditions were bad for Kentfield they must have been many times worse in most public rooms at the time, where a game of 24 up would have been considered a true test of a player’s skill. There is however a record of Kentfield having made a break of 196 and a run of 57 “spots”, but it can safely be assumed that these breaks were not made on his special table with the 31/4″ pockets, and additionally, there is no record of him having played against any significant opponents.

Regardless of any comparison of his ability to later players, there is no doubt that he was held in the greatest respect during the period of his “reign” as champion. During this time he helped to introduce the slate bed, rubber cushions, finer bed-cloth, and an increase in the size of balls from 1 7/8″ to 2″. All of which were sure to have appeared in his Rooms in the 1830′s.

John Roberts Senior

While Kentfield was consolidating his position as Champion in Brighton, a young Lancashire player called John Roberts began to make a name for himself.

Born in Manchester he spent some time in Oldham, then while still in his teens he moved to Glasgow around 1844 and it was here that the first stories arose of his big-money matches. He narrowly lost a match against professional player John Fleming, who was also a well known billiard table maker from Edinburgh. The match was 500 up for £100, which was a very substantial sum in those days. With the scores at 485 all, Fleming fluked a six shot after missing the cannon he actually tried for, and subsequently ran to game.

John Roberts Senior

In 1845 John Roberts moved to Manchester where he became Marker of the Billiard Room at the Union Club, where he stayed for the next seven years. It was here that he was taught the “spot stroke” by Mr. Lee Birch who was regarded as one of the best amateurs of his day, and who had seen the stroke played in London during a visit to the capital. Roberts realised that an enormous advantage could be gained by any player who could master it and devoted many hours of practice exclusively to this stroke. It was to be Roberts skill with the “spot stroke” which would raise his game above all other professionals at that time.

Continuing with his money matches, Roberts defeated Tom Broughton in a match of 500 up for £100 in Broughton’s home town of Leeds. Although a second encounter had been arranged for a venue in Huddersfield, Broughton preferred to forfeit his guarantee of £10 rather than risk so large a sum again.

Kentfield’s long and tranquil reign ended in 1849 when Roberts arrived at his Subscription Rooms from Manchester with £100 note and the intention to test himself against the best player in England.

Roberts own account of events, given in his book published 20 years after this meeting, was as follows “I remember perfectly my first meeting with Kentfield. It was in the beginning of 1849 at Brighton where I went on purpose to see him play. On entering his rooms I met John Pook, who was at that time the manager. After sending up my name, Kentfield came in and inquired my business. I told him that I was admitted to be the finest player in Lancashire, whence I had come to find out if he could show me anything. He inquired if I wanted a lesson. I told him I did not and asked him how many in 100 would be a fair allowance from a player on his own table to a stranger, provided they were of equal skill. He replied 15. I told him 20 would be nearer the mark, but I was content to try at evens. He said ‘if you play me it must be for some money’ on which I pulled out a £100 note and told him I would play ten games of 100 up for £10 a game. He laughed and said I was rather hasty and eventually we knocked the balls about and then commenced a friendly 100 up on level terms. He had the best of the breaks and won by 40.

In the second game I pulled off a few North Country shots and won by 30, but he secured the third. Then he put down his cue and asked if I was satisfied he could beat me. I said ‘No, on the contrary, if you can’t play better than this I can give you 20 in 100 easily.’ He replied ‘Well, if you want to play me you must put down a good stake.’ I asked how much and he answered £1,000. I said ‘do you mean £1,000 a side ?’ Upon which he told me he thought I was a straightforward fellow and he would see what could be done. He then sent Pook back to me and I explained to him how things stood. He replied ‘You may as well go back to Lancashire, you won’t get a match on with the Governor’. I tried afterwards to arrange terms but he never would meet me.”

Although it may appear bold for Roberts to express his superiority having lost two games in three, it is likely that the match had been played on Kentfield’s “special” table with 31/4″ pockets and Roberts’ opinions were based on his chances playing on an “ordinary” table. In the event, Roberts’ challenge was never met by Kentfield who had been undisputed champion for almost 30 years. He obviously felt that he had much to lose from the challenge and preferred to be known as the “Retired Champion”. So in 1849 John Roberts assumed the title of Professional Champion and began a dynasty which would reach into the following century.

At this time it was doubtful that the title of Champion would have provided Roberts with any significant financial advantages as he would have found it difficult to obtain matches for money and anyone he did meet would have expected to receive a sizeable start. Probably as a means to capitalise on his title, Roberts promoted a series of exhibition matches with other leading players. This also had the effect of increasing the popularity of the game as such events were practically unknown before his initiative.

William Cook

William Cook was one of a group of young players who were coming to the fore at the end of the 1860s. He was for some time a pupil of John Roberts and during December 1868 was taken on a tour of the Lancashire area with Roberts and his son, playing a series of exhibition matches. It was around this time that Cook developed a friendship and intense rivalry with the son of the Champion, John Roberts Jnr; which was to last throughout their playing careers.

Within 12 months Cook had improved to such an extent that he scarcely play two games of 1,000 up without making a break in excess of 300. As a result, his challenge for the title in the Autumn of 1869 became inevitable. Roberts took some time in responding to the challenge and it was known that some of his friends tried to convince him that he had nothing to gain from the match and should retire undefeated.

As Roberts contemplated his response, Cook continued to demonstrate exceptional form. On 26th October 1869 he increased the record break with 361 (112 spots) against John Roberts Jnr at Manchester. In another match against Roberts while in Manchester he made breaks of 329; 243 (78 spots) and 311 (99 spots). At this time Cook was playing so much better than the younger Roberts that he would beat him three games out of four.

To complete the year Cook extended his record break to 394 (112 spots) in a match against John Roberts Jnr at the Maypole Hotel in Nottingham on 28th December 1869.

The Professional Championship (February 1870) – First Contest

Eventually Roberts agreed to meet Cook for the championship in a match of 1,200 up for a £100 a side, at the St. James Hall, Regent Street. The date set was 11th February 1870.

As Kentfield and Roberts had held the title for almost 50 years between them without ever playing a Championship match, there was great public interest in the announcement. At this time there was no governing body for billiards and several variations to the rules existed between billiard rooms around the country. It was therefore agreed that a committee would be established to draw up a set of rules specifically for the championship. This committee was selected from those deemed most likely to compete for the title and representatives from the three leading billiard table manufacturers Cox & Yemen, Burroughes & Watts and Thurston’s. John Roberts (Champion) took the chair of this committee, the other players being William Cook, Joseph Bennett, John Bennett, and Tom Morris. It was agreed that the table manufacturers would provide the championship trophy and take turns to supply the match table. The committee met at Bennett’s Rooms to draw up articles for the championship and Alfred Bowles & William Dufton were given the task of making preliminary arrangements for the match.

However, Roberts was well aware that the young Cook (he was still only 20 years of age) was currently the best player of the “spot stroke” in the country and to reduce this advantage it was arranged to play on a modified table. Roberts convinced the committee that the truest test of a champion would be a table which required the greatest accuracy in the playing of hazards. Drawing on his experience with the special table developed by Jonathan Kentfield for this very purpose, he proposed that a virtual replica was constructed by Thurston’s for the match. A model was set up for the players to try. Cook made a sequence of 30 spots and gave his approval for the design. However the cut of the pockets was again changed before the match with the result that the spot stroke became virtually impossible. The pockets of this “Championship Table” were 3″ wide instead of the then normal 3 5/8″ and the Billiard Spot would be nearer the top cushion (121/2″ instead of 131/4″) designed to limit Cook’s superiority. The baulk-line was set at 28″ from the bottom cushion and the radius reduced by 11/2″ to 10″. Despite his input to the committee decisions, young Cook evidently did not fully appreciate that the smaller pockets would handicap him to a greater extent than his opponent who did not rely so heavily on this specialist stroke. Conditions were also laid down that the winner must respond to future challenges within two months and any player who held the championship for a continuous period of 5 years would retain the trophy.

Although he was champion, Roberts was not favourite for the match. Cook’s brilliant play in recent months had encouraged the gambling fraternity to back Cook regardless of the type of table to be used. “Bells Life of London” reported “Many considered the result a foregone conclusion for Cook, nevertheless it began at the outset to excite the most lively interest. When the match was announced the odds laid on Cook were 5-2; but after Roberts had subsequently defeated Joseph Bennett at the Prince of Wales Club, with the spot stroke barred, the price fell to 9-4 and 6-4 was accepted in some quarters at the beginning of the week in consequence of Cook having come off second best in more than one of his late exhibition matches.

So brisk was the demand for tickets, of which 500 were initially issued at £1 each, that the players were obliged to engage the larger room at St. James’ Hall. They were thus able to accommodate another 300 and yet from the commencement of the week no tickets were available from advertised sources and enterprising speculators, who bought up two or three dozen with a view of making a quick profit, were able to command exorbitant prices. In fact it no sooner emerged that the Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII) would witness the match than the tickets, even the back seats, rose immediately in value and seats in the front row were being offered at £5 each.

From 7 o’clock the hall began to fill and soon every seat was occupied with some spectators in the farther seats coming equipped with opera glasses. It was estimated that over 1,000 people had crammed into 800 seat venue. Extraordinary precautions were in place with the entrance to the grand hall being barricaded and police stationed at all the pay stations. The table was in the centre of the vast hall with a cordon of scarlet rope about three yards all around. In one corner was placed a chair which would be the official post for the referee. Interestingly, the referee for this match was Joseph Bennett who would himself become Champion later that same year. Outside the rope the tiers of benches began sloping up to the galleries and constructed to reach up and beyond the ordinary balconies.

The spectators included representatives of all the leading sports with a significant number of bookmakers and general racing fraternity having secured positions immediately surrounding the table. A private box had been allocated to the Prince of Wales at the left hand corner of the chief balcony.

It was common practice in those days for bets to be shouted across the room with odds given and wagers taken not only on the outcome of the match, but often on the result of individual strokes. Indeed, it was by no means unusual to stop an important money match to enable all the bets to be recorded to the satisfaction of the spectators.

Shortly after 8 o’clock the spectators began to grow impatient and calls for a start to the match resulted in the appearance of William Dufton who informed the assembly that the players were only waiting for order and they would make their appearance. He was followed by an official who proceeded to weigh the balls. He managed to keep the crowd quiet as he cleverly managed to spin out this operation for a full ten minutes. However the fascination of watching the perfectly balanced scales raised and lowered eventually gave way to impatience once more and the noise from the hall became louder than ever.

When the players eventually made their appearance at 8.15 pm they were received with enthusiastic cheering. Although both were dressed in black and were without jackets, the portly figure of Roberts’ contrasted very much with Cook whose extreme youth surprised those who had not previously seen him play. Roberts, as usual, was wearing his wide brimmed felt hat.

William Dufton then commenced a brief address in which he announced an interval of a quarter of an hour at the completion of the sixth hundred and gave the assembly some advice on the best means of regaining their seats should they have cause to vacate them. This latter remark caused some unintentional amusement, as with over 200 people standing it was clear to all those present that the chance of regaining a vacated seat would be practically nil.

With at least two thirds of the company smoking, the atmosphere soon became painfully close and oppressive, but with perfect order having been attained with some difficulty, the match started at 8.27 pm.

Shortly after the start the Prince of Wales and his party arrived so quietly that for some time their appearance was unnoticed. The only ladies present were the wives of Cook and Joseph Bennett who were accompanied by several female friends. The young Cook more than once looked up and smiled in confidence at his partner.

The tight pockets of the match table quickly made their effect on the game with both players testing this handicap by attempting reds from the spot. When Cook first gained spot position he was greeted with a round of applause, but he could not fulfill the expectations of his supporters, making only five in succession before breaking down. The Prince of Wales watched this with the greatest interest and there was a general feeling of disappointment when the break came to an end. The red ball needed to be played with the greatest of care or it did not go in. In addition, possibly due to the change in the position of the spot, when the red was made, position for the next stroke was invariably lost. As a result, early play was very close with several small breaks from both players.

Cook’s bearing during the play was reserved and modest, while Roberts performed in his usual jaunty fashion, constantly offering to back himself. Roberts paused early in the match to hand £10 up to Mr. Steel who was seated several rows from the front and had offered Roberts £20-£10. Shortly afterwards one of Cook’s supporters placed £200 to £100 on his man and Steel not relishing this bet too much attempted to lay it off in smaller amounts.

The players were level at about 450 when Roberts got in. With Cook’s ball and the red almost touching, he quietly dribbled them down the table making six or seven very pretty cannons in succession. He followed this with a regular ‘gallery’ stroke, potting the red at tremendous pace, the cue ball striking several cushions before making the cannon. This shot fairly brought the house down for the first time in the match.

The interval was taken at 10.45 pm with Cook holding the advantage 625 -521. During the interval £100-£40 was offered on Cook, but found no takers. It was generally considered that to this point Roberts had played in too off-hand a manner, giving way to a number of indiscreet shots and showing too little respect for his opponent.

With the resumption of play at 11.20pm, they moved along evenly until Cook was 701 to Roberts’ 593. Directly afterwards, Cook with a series of strokes (some of them the most delicate strength) produced a break of 80 points. At the conclusion of this magnificent performance the clapping of hands lasted for two or three minutes, the Prince of Wales joining heartily in the demonstration.

The jaunty air which many though affected Roberts in the early stage of the play had quite disappeared and he now strained every nerve to catch his youthful opponent. With such steadiness did Roberts now play that in spite of a dashing 63 from his opponent, he immediately responded with a break of 62, his best in the match. At 12.50 am the game stood 1,016-899 to Cook, but at this point Roberts turned the game which had run in favour of Cook until this point. He put together breaks of 39, 31 and 41 to take the lead at 1,041-1,037. The excitement at this point knew no bounds, the company being scarcely diminished in numbers and each stroke was loudly applauded, with the betting reduced to 5-4 and evens. Still Cook’s nerve did not fail and while Roberts contributed 7 and played for safety the youngster made 26 and 31 to take a crucial lead 1,132-1,083. Then, starting with a fluke cannon Cook put together an unfinished break of 68, the winning stroke being a losing hazard off the red into the middle pocket.

So it was that at 1.38am and amidst great jubilation from his many supporters, William Cook was proclaimed the billiard champion of England by margin of 117 points. Roberts was bitterly disappointed at his defeat but recovered himself after a little while, receiving much support from his friends who crowded around him to offer their consolations. The Prince of Wales meanwhile, had retired at midnight having expressed the opinion that he would have preferred to see the larger breaks which could be achieved on “ordinary tables”

Cook was awarded with the new championship trophy which had been purchased at the cost of £120. Half a dozen gold enamelled Maltese crosses, at a cost of £5 each were also manufactured, one of which will be given to every holder of the Championship.

Roberts’ son, who also attended the match, had these comments about his fathers defeat “In vain his friends put before him the value of retiring with an unbeaten record. He knew as well as anyone what Cook’s abilities were and could not disguise from himself that it was by no means an easy task. The offer made by Lord Dudley, while the match was in progress, to give my father £1,000 in the event of him winning, rather upset his play for a time and I have little doubt that it defeated its own object by making him too anxious to win. If my father had won this match he would probably have retired. If he had not done so he would only have been putting off the evil day as he must have been defeated within a very short time. After the match he had the intention of trying to regain his title, but his play got worse and with Cook and myself improving daily, he soon saw it would be useless to make the attempt. Had he taken the advice of his friends and retired without playing Cook, he would now, doubtless, be quoted by competent authorities as the greatest billiard player of any time.”

The loss of the Championship marked the effective end of John Roberts career. Although he still played in public for several years and recorded the occasional success, he eventually faded from the scene as he was overtaken by the new wave of younger players.

The Professional Championship (April 1870)

Cook was immediately challenged by Roberts Jnr to a match for the Championship with a friend in the North of England promising to put up the required £100 stake. After an initial scare that his backer would not be able to come up with the money, the match was eventually arranged for 14th April 1870, again at the St. James’ Hall. It was played under the same conditions as the first championship except that the match was reduced to 1,000 up in an attempt to avoid another late finish.

The game was in its early stages when an unusual incident occurred. Roberts was into a break of 22 with the scores standing at 123-122 in his favour when he played for a cannon by gentle strength off the top cushion. Cook thinking that his opponent had not scored walked up to the table. Roberts claimed a cannon and Cook appealed to the referee who asked the marker, who had also been unsighted. As Roberts was standing in front of the referee during the shot it was impossible for him to decide without an appeal to the spectators sitting at the spot end. To this end Cook, urged by some of his supporters, refused to agree, arguing that the game should be restarted or the whole audience questioned on the point. Roberts, who declared that he had scored, refused to do this and the referee proposed a toss of a coin to resolve the matter. The players agreed and Cook winning, followed on with the balls in the position which they were left. Evidently with the intention of gaining nothing from this advantage, he played the balls for safety, which was greatly appreciated by the audience who gave him tremendous applause. The Sportsman Newspaper subsequently took a poll of several impartial witnesses, sitting in the best position for seeing the stroke and they unanimously declared that Roberts had made the cannon.

With the game standing at 714-299 to Roberts, Cook improved his position with a break of 22 but according to the Sportsman Newspaper he “continued to be unfortunate. Either the white found a pocket or one of the balls remained in baulk.” Roberts seeing how things were going took a bet of £100 to £10 from a spectator that he would win by 500 points. But Cook soon after this ran up a break of 53 and Roberts lost his wager. However, Cook manage to score just 522 before Roberts reached game. Exclusive of the interval and the time occupied by the dispute, the match lasted just 3 hours and four minutes. Speaking of Cook the Sportsman said “At the outset he looked haggard as if travelling and too much play had done him no good. When the pinch came and his physical powers were called on, he gave way altogether and only made 100 while Roberts was making 250.”

The Professional Championship (May 1870)

Immediately after his victory, Roberts was challenged by Alfred Bowles and the match took place on 30th May 1870. There was always some doubt as to the ability of Bowles who was generally considered to be 300 in 1,000 inferior to the elder Roberts. The strength of his game was in cannon play and it was probably the small size of the pockets on the championship table which lead him to think he had a chance of winning the match. St. James’s Hall was again the venue, but this time the smaller of the two halls was used. The lack of public interest reflecting anticipation of an easy victory for Roberts. At the outset the betting was 10-1 on the Champion and before the score had reach 300 one spectator unable to secure a bet, offered 20-1 against Bowles, which was immediately taken by Roberts! The match was a pedestrian affair with Roberts taking an early lead and never loosing it. Although the cannon play of Bowles drew much applause, his hazard play was poor and although he improved somewhat after the interval, Roberts seems to loose interest in the contest and in winning by a comfortable margin of 246 points, he did not produce anywhere near his best form. This was reflected in the time taken to complete the match which lasted 4 hours 45 minutes. The best breaks were 57 for Roberts and 47 for Bowles. After this match Bowles seemed to accept that he could not win the championship, for he never challenged again.

The Professional Championship (November 1870)

Roberts was challenged for the title again in 1870. This time by Joseph Bennett and the match was played at St. James’s Hall on 28th November 1870. Prior to his championship challenge, Joseph Bennett had played in a series of matches at the Palais Royal and the standard of play he exhibited gave his backers increased confidence and moreover he showed greater facility at spot stroke striking than he had ever previously shown.

The match was played on a table built for the occasion by Cox & Yemen of Brompton Road which as described as “a beautiful specimen of their handicraft” William Cook officiated as referee and the marker was C. Stanton.

There appeared to be almost as much interest in this match as the first championship between Roberts snr; and William Cook. During the progress of play there was much excitement and an immense amount of money was wagered at all sorts of prices. For some time prior to the match Roberts had been favourite at odds of 5-4, but fine form displayed by Bennett, who had been playing with Cook the previous week on a championship tables at his own rooms, caused him to have many supporters.

Although play was scheduled for a 7.30 pm start, the crowded state of the hall delayed the start until just before 8.00 pm. Play progressed slowly but at the interval Bennett had gradually forged ahead and offers of 7-4 against Roberts found few takers. With the scores standing 718-553 to Bennett, the balls which had broken badly for Roberts throughout the evening, now lay more favourably, and pulling himself together he gradually reduced the gap with his opponent. The supporters of the champion were now in ecstasies and so well set did Roberts appear, that it seemed he would snatch the match out of the fire. But Bennett played coolly and with small breaks reached his ninth hundred 136 points ahead of Roberts. With neither player making any significant contributions from this point, Bennett held his lead eventually winning by 95 points. Major Broadfoot observed that “Bennett with repeated safety misses and double baulks, fairly wore down his opponent.”

After the match Roberts considered that Bennett’s victory was very much in the nature of a fluke and was more due to him having become careless in his play which had deteriorated due to keeping late hours and not taking care of himself generally, than due to the excellence of Bennett’s game. He said that “the strength of Bennett’s game lay in his losing hazard play and though he played what may be described as a splendid mathematical game, he ought not to be classed with those players who have the resource to make a game for themselves when they get into difficulty.” Bennett always regard this win as his greatest achievement and in later life he took out a standing advertisement in the “Sportsman” newspaper which proclaimed him as “The only man living who beat John Roberts for the Championship”

So it was that after 50 years without a match for the championship, 1870 saw four such contests which produced three different champions.

The Professional Championship (January 1871)

Roberts lost no time in challenging Bennett for the championship and the match was once more held at St. James’s Hall on 30th January 1871. Roberts was supremely confident that he would reverse the result of the previous match and this was reflected by the pre-match betting which had him a 6-4 favourite.

The table on this occasion was provided by Burroughes & Watts. Bells Life says “It is one of the most elegant tables we ever saw, treated in decorative gothic manufacture of handsome walnut wood, suitably relieved by ornaments and friezes of light oak, elaborately carved forming a very pleasant combination. The bases of the legs are of walnut, surmounted with richly cut walnut columns and oak niches in which are carved lions supporting shields. The panels are alike varied and full of detail. One of Burroughes & Watts improved illuminated marking boards was used on this occasion. The marker was Mr. C. Stanton.

Bells Life reports the match “The room was very full but not so uncomfortably crowded as on their previous meeting. A great deal of speculation took place on the event, Bennett having many supporters at even money. Notwithstanding that, Roberts had been playing with Cook in Manchester on one of Messrs Orme’s championship tables and had made break of 91 which was the largest break hitherto attained with the small pockets. Bennett who has been unwell for some time, was not up to his usual play, the dash and exquisite manipulation of Roberts almost put him in the shade.”

It was realised shortly after the start that no referee had been appointed and a foul stroke claimed by Roberts was waived in his opponents favour under the circumstances. A well known amateur player was appointed to the office and no further incident occurred to mar the progress of play.

At one point in the match Bennett had his cue knocked out of his hand by a passing waiter just as he was about to make a stroke. Some of Bennett’s backers subsequently asserted that this was done intentionally although it was more probably the result of carelessness.

During to progress of the game Bennett complained that he was playing with a lighter ball than that used by Roberts and it is to be regretted that it was not discovered before the game commenced. Ivory is such a difficult material to deal with that it is almost impossible to avoid such problems. When the balls came to be weighed during the interval, Bennett’s conjecture was found to be correct, there being a discrepancy of 240th part of an ounce. This however, was not considered sufficient to cause a change of balls and the game continued with the original set.

With Bennett trailing 262-173 Bell’s Life report “Roberts whose luck had deserted him for some little time the placed 55 to his account followed by 24 and 26 and presently 33, reaching 401 while Bennett had only gone as far as 199, and offers of £50 to £10 found very few takers.” The game progressed with Roberts gradually drawing further away from Bennett, eventually completing the win 1,000-637 in the relatively fast time of three hours twenty two minutes.

The Professional Championship (May 1871)

It was largely because of the recent poor results by Roberts that Cook started clear favourite when the two met for the championship on 25th May 1871. The venue was again St. James Hall and the match was 1,000 up. The Referee was John Bennett and the marker Mr. T. Hubble.

At the interval Cook was 150 points ahead, but Roberts passed him in the 620′s and the scores remained close thereafter. As with their earlier championship match, there was once again a dispute over a cannon made by Roberts. The referee being unable to decide put the matter to a show of hands from the audience, which resolved the matter in Roberts favour. With the game called at 925-921 to Cook, Roberts took the advantage by establishing a lead of 985-965. At this point he was faced with what seemed to be an easy screw cannon which would leave the balls together and winning a virtual certainty, but he missed the shot and left the balls in perfect position for Cook. This was considered all the more incredible because this type of shot was seen as one of Roberts’ greatest strengths. Amidst scenes of great excitement and encouragement from the capacity audience, Cook proved equal to the occasion and scored the necessary 36 points to land the championship by only 15 points.

The period between 1871-1875 was undoubtedly the zenith of Cook’s career, when he could defeat all comers on any type of table. The strongest part of his game was undoubtedly his delicacy of touch. He was not attracted by the forcing hazards played at “railroad speed” so appreciated by audiences. More than any other player at that time, he seemed to realise the rewards of gently nursing the balls and bringing them together, which he could achieve time after time, with perfect strength.

The Professional Championship (November 1871)

Cook next defended the championship against Joseph Bennett at the St. James’ Hall, Regent Street, on 21st November 1871. It was on the same day that Cook’s wife gave birth to their first son. Attendance was greater than at any championship match apart from the first, when Cook had played Roberts Sen. Large placards had been posted around the building announcing that no betting was to take place. Consequently the traditional shouting of bets across the room was absent. In a slow match, the scores remained close

for much of the game, but towards the end Cook forged what seemed to be a conclusive lead of 919-839.

Bennett, whose game had been deteriorating to this point, then rallied and amongst much excitement made a break of 93, which was the highest seen in the Championship to that date. However, Cook replied with a 40 to retake the lead and with an unfinished break of 38, took the championship be a margin of 58 points.

The Professional Championship (March 1872)

On 4th March 1872, Cook played Roberts once more for the Championship. The match again took place at St. James’ Hall, Regent Street and drew a particularly large attendance. John Bennett was the referee and the marker Mr. W. Hunt of Southsea.

Roberts recalls he was “dead out of form on that occasion, while Cook was in very good trim.” Roberts best break was 47, but Cook made the first ever Championship century with a break of 116. When this break stood at 84 Cook brought the balls together near the left hand top pocket and played a sequence of twelve nursery cannons, finishing with an eight shot and a double baulk. When the interval was called at 9.35pm, Cook was leading 501-385. Cook maintained his lead to the end, winning by 201 points. The effect of the championship table on the use of the spot stroke may be gauged by the fact that Cook in winning this match made only one spot hazard!

The Professional Championship (February 1874)

On 24th February 1874 Cook again played Roberts for the Championship, at St. James’ Hall, the pair having been regular adversaries in exhibition matches since the time of the previous contest. The referee was Mr. T. Cook who spotted the balls in addition to officiating and the marker was Mr. D. Ingarfield. At the very start of proceedings Cook made a break of 121, commencing with a difficult cannon and breaking down with an attempted screw back into baulk for another cannon. He gained spot position twice during the break, but only attempted to hold the position for two or three shots on each occasion. This break set a new record on a championship table. Amidst great applause Cook then went further ahead with breaks of 82 and 40, the scores being called at 244-18 in favour of Cook. Although Roberts responded with some fine play which was loudly applauded by his supporters, by the interval Cook held a 537-397 lead. Cook had the best of the running after the interval and completed his victory by 216 points, just before 11.00pm.

The Professional Championship (May 1875)

The next challenge to Cook’s championship occurred on 24th May 1875 and was again made by Roberts. On this occasion the match was played at the Criterion and was as usual 1,000 up, the referee being Harry Evans and the marker D. Ingarfield. Obviously impressed with the arrangements, one journalist reported that the seats for spectators were covered with cushions “for the first time in recollection”.

Roberts started the match well, taking an early lead and at the interval the score stood at 518-375 in his favour. At this point bets were laid of 7-4 on Roberts, although the takers would soon experience some worrying moments. After the interval Cook opened up with a 52, but Roberts immediately responded with 42. Cook’s cannon play then came to prominence and with several beaks in the 30′s and 40′s he took the lead for the first time. There was tremendous cheering from Cook’s supporters when the score was announced at 582-596. However, Cook was having difficulty in containing Roberts who was performing some excellent hazard play and was trailing 844-811 when breaks of 30, 39 and 40 took Roberts well clear. Cook was unable to close the gap on this arch-rival, losing the match by a margin of 163 points. Up to this point Cook was widely regarded by public opinion to be a far better player than Roberts on both “championship” and “ordinary” tables, being the holder of the highest breaks on both types of table. However, this loss to Roberts marked the turning point in both their careers as Roberts would confirm his supremacy and forge clear of his closest rival and all other players.

The Professional Championship (December 1875)

This period had seen a general a decline in public interest for exhibition matches. However, this was not evident when Roberts played Cook once more for the championship on 20th December 1875. The room at St. James’ Hall was packed throughout the match although the presence of the Prince of Wales would certainly have helped box office sales.

There was much complaint from the press due to the absence of reserved seating and the poor lighting. The reporter from Bells Life commented on the conditions of the match by apologising that he was unable to give a description of the “beautiful strokes made by each player, but the room was so dark, the only lights being over the table, that we were not able to write a line, more especially in the ‘black seats’ usually afforded to the press on these occasions.” Many reporters did not manage to gain access to the match at all and with those that did unable to take detailed notes, many newspapers failed to give any account of the match.

The game itself was very closely fought with the lead changing hands regularly. Cook was in front 505-478 at the interval but Roberts with a fine break of 51 eventually took the score to 936-817 in his favour and appeared secure. Cook however was not finished and with the aid of a 38 break pulled up to 961-865, But this was to be his last score as Roberts finished the game at his next visit, winning by 135 points at 11.20pm. Roberts best break was 85 and Cook’s 54 .

The following year Cook wanted to play again for the championship, but as Roberts was intending to leave on a tour of Australia on 6th April 1876, he declined the challenge. Roberts having failed to meet the original condition that the winner must respond a challenge within two months, Cook assumed the title of champion.

The Professional Championship (May 1877)

Prior to his return Roberts had issued a challenge to Cook who had assumed the championship in his absence. Roberts arrived back in England on 6th April 1877 having made about £7,000 from his Australian trip. Although Roberts had beaten Cook in the last two championships, Cook was well fancied, having recently made a break of 156, the highest ever seen on a championship table, during a match for £400 against Billy Moss (Manchester).

The match was played on 28th May 1877 at the Gaiety Restaurant. The room was generally considered too small to meet the needs of the occasion and the heat was so intense that it was uncomfortable for spectators and players alike. Due to Roberts refusal to allow the usual facilities to the press, the match did not receive the coverage which it may normally have expected.

In the match, Roberts took an immediate lead, with the best of the running and some observers remaking that Cook was not looking himself. However, Cook put together a fine 59 break, including a series of nursery cannons and several brilliant hazards, and when the score was announced at “204 all” it was greeted with a loud cheer. When Roberts was leading 515-496 Cook proposed an interval due to the oppressive heat. Roberts whose turn it was to play, did not agree and went on to make a break of 35. When Cook took the table and was also into a small break Roberts himself suggested an hour’s rest. Cook consented without finishing his break and went into the interval at 10.20pm with the score standing at 621-501 to Roberts. Some thought this gamesmanship on the part of Roberts for after the interval Cook never had a look-in as Roberts extended his lead with a break of 118 which was the highest ever made in the championship and this put the game beyond Cook’s reach. Roberts won the match by 221 point at 11.55pm. Bell’s Life reported “the popularity of Cook is so great that if good wishes could have ensured success, the result of the contest would have been different. Cook played nervously and though at time played brilliantly, he seemed to be labouring under the knowledge that he had more than met his match.”

Towards the end of 1877 Roberts left for an extended tour of India and Australia. With the tacit approval of Roberts, Cook claimed the championship by issuing a challenge on 2nd May 1878 and receiving no response within the statutory two months, the title and the cup was passed to him. However, in August of that year Cook left to join Roberts on his tour, and resigned the title, returning the cup to the Billiard table manufacturers who had donated it. The title was held in abeyance until another match could be arranged.

Cook returned to England on 26th January 1880 from Australia, having travelled there from India and separating from Roberts. The tour had not proved to be a financial success as he was unable to find any Australian opponent capable of giving him a worthy match even when conceding 600 in 1,000. As a result, most of his exhibitions were against Yorkshireman Louis Kilkenny who had also been on tour in that country.

John Roberts returned to England in May 1880 and Joseph Bennett immediately issued a challenge to play for the Championship. However, Roberts withdrew his claim to the title in favour of Cook and arrangements were made for a match between these two later in the year.

The Professional Championship (November 1880)

The match for the Championship between Cook and Joseph Bennett was arranged for St. James’ Hall on 8th November 1880. The stakes were £200 and the match, as usual, 1,000 up. It was to be one of the most exciting and closest championships ever seen.

Bennett took an early lead and aided by an opening fluke added a break of 77 to establish a lead of 242-127. At this point there was some dispute over the balls which were changed, but Bennett continued to increase his lead, aided by some general good fortune. At the interval the match stood 508-386 in Bennett’s favour. Bennett maintained his lead to 795-698 the luck remaining with Bennett and against Cook. At this point however, Cook made an excellent break of 107 which took him in front for the first time and with the scores standing at 938-864 to Cook, the betting was odds on for Cook and the match seemed to all present to be effectively over. Bennett however, not to be deterred, continued the match with impressive calmness and resolution. He first made 15 leaving the balls so safe that Cook was forced to play a miss. Then, aided by a fluke, made 37 followed by several small breaks which took the score to 993-941 in his favour. Cook appeared to have a chance but when he had made just 6, the balls were left touching and had to be spotted. This was too much for Cook who added only a few more before Bennett made the points he needed, so regaining the title he held for a mere 2 months some 10 years earlier. The match was completed in 4 hrs 8 minutes, which was almost exactly the same time as Cook and Billy Mitchell had taken to play 2,000 up on an Ordinary table the previous month.

The day after his championship match, Cook played an exhibition 1,000 up against Roberts on the same table at St. James’ Hall. In the course of the game he made a break of 165 which at that time was the highest ever recorded on a championship table. Shortly after this Cook and Roberts left on a tour of India billing themselves as “Ex-Champions”.

The Professional Championship (January 1881)

On 12th January 1881 at St. James Hall a Championship contested was begun between Bennett and Tom Taylor. The match did not command much public attention, for although Taylor was recognised as a capable player he was not regarded in the same class as Bennett who had regularly been conceding 50 points in 500 to the same player in handicap tournaments for several years.

The match was played on a Burroughes & Watts table and started 20 minutes after the advertised time of 7.00pm. Bennett began by displaying the same good fortune that had assisted him to take the championship from Cook. In trying for a cannon he put his opponents ball down and after potting the red gave a miss in baulk, shortly afterwards fluking a white loser. But Bennett did not capitalise on his fortune and the scores remained level to the first 100. However, a break of 125 by Bennett, a new record for the championship, opened a gap of 375-129. At this point the balls were changed at the request of Taylor and the improvement was immediate with his next two scores being 79 and 40. Taylor continued to improve and took the lead at the interval, which was taken at 10.00pm. Play resumed after only 20 minutes in an attempt to compensate for the slowness of the play and the players remained level for some time until Taylor, starting with a lucky 5 shot, rattled up a 53 break followed by a 23, 37 and 16, and looked like going away from Bennett with the scores standing at 678-554 in his favour. The play continued in a very cautious manner and some of the spectators were evidently getting tired of the constant misses and double baulks. At length an opening came for Bennett who drew within 77 of his opponent with the score at 703-626. Further breaks of 70 and 45 Bennett took the lead 743-728.

Licensed premises at that time were obliged to close at 12.30am and with this time fast approaching and the careful tactics of both players being unaffected, it soon became apparent that the match would not be finished. Time was called with the scores at 976-882 to Bennett with Taylor in play on 26 with the balls well placed. The referee, J. H. Smith then arranged for the match to continue at 3.00pm and on resumption Taylor only managed to add 2 points to his break. Bennett then tried for a cannon, missed, but fluked his own ball into the centre pocket and scored the remaining 22 points to take the match 1,000-910.

Shorter’s aborted challenge

Fred Shorter then challenged Bennett for the title and the match was arranged to be played on 13th April 1881 at the St. James Hall. Shorter had made a deposit of £10 but failed to make good his final stake money and so at the last minute forfeited the match. However, as expenses had to be met Bennett offered to play Shorter in a non-championship match, offering 100 points start in 1,000 up with the gate money being split between the players (as was normal at that time). The match was played on the same night and venue proposed for the Championship and Shorter actually won by 193 points although the match was exceptionally tedious with neither player showing good form.

Cook reclaims the title

At this time Delabois Richards looked as though he would be the next challenger for Bennett’s title. Richards was displaying sustained good form, typified by a defeat of Billy Mitchell in a level match of 1,000 up on a championship table during May 1881. Unfortunately, before arrangements for a championship encounter could be concluded, Bennett suffered a severe carriage accident causing him to be disabled for a considerable time. Bennett was very fond of riding and driving, in both of which he was an adept, although that did not prevent his being thrown out of a trap. He broke his arm in two places and never really got sound again. Indeed, he always believed that this led up to the paralysis, which eventually caused his death many years later. Upon his return to England in September 1881, Cook challenged Bennett for the Championship, but Bennett felt that he was insufficiently recovered from his accident and the title passed by default to Cook.

John Roberts asserts his superiority – Cook remains Champion

January 1882 saw a significant turning point when John Roberts, for the first time, conceded Cook points in a match of 5,000 up at the Palais Royal. Allowing his opponent 500 start he won easily by 1,658 points for the significant sum of £1,000. This match clearly established Roberts as the leading “all-in” player of the time although some speculation remained that Cook could still mount an effective challenge at the “spot barred” game, or on a championship table. Roberts thereafter called himself “Champion of the World” and although Cook then challenged Roberts to play for the Championship shortly after this defeat, Roberts wrote to the Sportsman newspaper stating that he had no intention of ever again playing for the cup.

The Formation of the Billiard Association

Sunday 1st February 1885: Following the publishing of a critique on the existing rules by Alf Burnett, a journalist for The Sportsman, he and Peter Jennings contacted the professional players to see if they could be brought together with a view to revising the current rules. On 1st February 1885 a meeting was called at the offices of the Sportsman newspaper to discuss the formalising of a common set of rules for the game. It was attended by most of the leading players and trade representatives with Mr. A. H. Collis-Orme chairing the meeting. Here it was proposed by the Chairman that an Association be formed.

At this stage there was still no though of forming an Association and it was only after a suggestion by Mr. Collis-Orme that this was agreed. Hardly underestimating their own importance the full title given to the association was “The Billiard Association of Great Britain and Ireland, India and the Colonies”.

A group of players were charged with producing a set of rules which would become the standard for the game. The players involved were John Roberts Jnr (Chairman) John Roberts Sen; William Cook; Joseph Bennett; Fred Bennett; W. J. Peall; Billy Mitchell; John North; Tom Taylor; Joe Sala and George Collins. The Billiard Association, as it was known, met week by week in a room set aside for them by Messrs. Bertram & Roberts in the dining gallery at the Royal Aquarium. The task was eventually completed on 21st September 1885 and the new rules were published shortly afterwards

Sydenham Dixon, then on the staff of The Sportsman newspaper, which was the prime mover behind the formation of the Billiard Association. His proprietors backed him, his many friends helped and in this the first example of billiards government was set in motion. From the first however, this thinly disguised “newspaper control” was opposed in quarters that mattered.

The predominant influence still maintained over the new association by the Newspaper would soon result in an irrevocable split with John Roberts, who would refuse to recognise the authority of the Association for the rest of his life. However, in its earliest days, Roberts comforted by his prominent position in re-drafting the rules now decided to play for the Championship again. He issued a challenge to Cook who had been allowed to hold the title for over three years. As Cook failed to respond within the stipulated time the title and trophy was passed to Roberts in February 1885.

The Billiard Association Championship (April 1885)

Apparently regretting letting the trophy slip so easily from his grasp, Cook immediately issued his own challenge. This was immediately accepted and a match was arranged for the end of March 1885.

The format of the championship had been changed under the new Billiard Association rules to 3,000 up played over three days and the venue was set at the Argyll Billiard Hall, (previously known as the Palais Royal) Argyll Street, London from 30th March-1st April 1885.

Roberts had been suffering from an attack of Malaria which had prevented him from touching a cue for a week prior to the match and he was reduced to hobbling around the table during the match itself. Indeed, at one point it seemed as though him might forfeit rather than appear in such discomfort.

Roberts’ lack of practice was particularly evident, but Cook played no better. Both men continually failed at the simplest of shots, and the spectators must have wondered that they were not watching an amateur game. Cook was the first to make a significant break with an effort of 84, breaking down at a difficult red winner. This seemed to inspire Roberts who replied immediately with a 67 break and worked steadily to overhaul Cook finishing the first day 1,000-971. Play on the second day started dreadfully slowly again. But the Roberts started to display some form. A 50 break was marred by his missing a simple losing hazard into the middle, but on his opponent failing to score, he made a break of 129, which was a championship record. Cook’s best on the second day was a 67 break, but at the close he was still right behind Roberts at 2,001-1,929. On the final day Cook moved in front 2,570-2,531 with three breaks over 50, the closeness of the game compensating to some extent for the generally low standard of play and the final day was very well-attended. Roberts however, responded with his second century of the match, a break of 123, and drew steadily ahead, with Cook having little run, until he was at 2,905-2,723. Although Cook made a valiant effort to recover, he was eventually beaten by a margin of 92 points.

The Billiard Association Championship (June 1885)

Immediately following the conclusion of the Championship match with Cook, Bennett, who now felt sufficiently recovered from his accident, challenged Roberts for the championship and the match of 3,000 up was arranged at the Royal Aquarium, Westminster for 1st-4th June 1885.

Bennett, who was still not in the best of health, did not start the match well, and in contrast to his some of his previous championship matches had little luck. Each time he seemed about to make a break the balls ran awkwardly and the first day finished 751-182 to Roberts. The second day started no better for Bennett, with Roberts first visit producing a break of 109, finishing with a double baulk. This was followed by an 83 break and further breaks of 121 and 127 unfinished concluded the second day’s play with Bennett trailing 1,500-422. The third day saw Roberts take his unfinished break to 155, a new championship record. Bennett however played much better and contributed several breaks over 60 including a best of 92. Roberts, however, in fine form himself, finished the session with a break of 147 bringing his lead to 2,259-1,029. With Roberts’ position appearing secure, the final day of the match was not well attended. The pattern of the match was duly followed with Roberts making a best break of 82 while Bennett only managed a 28 break. Roberts retaining the title with absurd ease, recording a final score of 3,000-1,360. Another Championship record set by Roberts in this match was a sequence of sixteen spot strokes.

This was to be the last match played for the Billiard Association Championship until the rules were changed in 1892. As Roberts was not called upon again to make a defence within the mandatory five year period, the trophy became his property in February 1890. This also saw the end of the Championship table, which was not used for matches again, except by special agreement.

By this time Roberts had discarded the “all-in” game, first brought to prominence by his father and played “spot-barred” in all but a few matches after this date becoming the acknowledged master of this type of game, while W. J. Peall, who claimed to be “Champion of Ordinary Billiards”, and Billy Mitchell, became acknowledged masters at the unrestricted “all-in” game.

Unofficial “All-in” Championship (October 1887)

In early October 1887, W. J. Peall and Billy Mitchell played a match at the Royal Aquarium which was billed as the “All-in Championship” although it carried no official recognition as a championship match. However, these two players were unquestionably the greatest exponents on the “spot-stroke”, Peall having set a new World record with a break of 2,413 just a few months previously.

Mitchell appeared to be heading for defeat as he came to the final day of the 15,000 up match almost 2,000 points behind Peall. But with almost consecutive breaks of 349; 297; 265; 141; 288; 644; 801; 349; 912 and 53 unfinished, made an aggregate of 4,427 to win the match by 1,267 points. Mitchell had earlier recorded a break of 1,117 against breaks by Peall of 1,159 and 1,086.

These performances show the stark contrast between the “all-in” matches being played on ordinary tables at this time and the contests on the “Championship” table, which by the nature of the high scoring involved were invariably fought over tens of thousands of points.

Unofficial “All-in” Championship (March 1888)

Mitchell and Peall contested their second unofficial “All-in Championship” at the Royal Aquarium between 12th-17th March 1888. Peall started favourite having recorded a break of 1,314 against Fred White in the week prior to the match.

He found no difficulty repeating the feat against Mitchell winning by no less than 8,247 points, though Mitchell was playing well. His best break was 2,031, containing 633 consecutive spot-strokes, a record then, in its way. He also made breaks of 1,498, 1,203, 1,192, 1,125, 957, 956, 928, and other huge runs.

George Wright & Co – Championship of the World Tournament (January 1889)

With the Billiard Association Championship remaining dormant, Messrs. Geo. Wright and Company, the well known firm of table makers, introduced and promoted a “Championship of the World Tournament,” and presented a Silver Cup, value £100, to be played for in heats of 1,000 up, “all-in,” the cup to become the property of the first winner of three tournaments, and in addition the winner of each tournament to receive a gold medal.

This was commenced at the Royal Aquarium on January 14th, the following players taking part:-W. J. Peall, Hugh McNeil, Tom Taylor, John Dowland, Billy Mitchell, Fred White, George Collins, and Fred Bennett. The tournament eventually resolved itself into a fight between Mitchell and Peall when they met in their particular heat. Mitchell, however, proved to be in extraordinary form, for soon after the start of the game, with his score standing at 13, he secured position for spot play and ran right out with a splendid unfinished break of 987 (319 spots), leaving the scores: Mitchell. 1,000 Peall, 20; and he finally won the first tournament and became “Spot Stroke Champion” on January 28th, 1889.

George Wright & Co – Championship of the World Tournament (February 1890)

The second Championship Tournament was won by W. J. Peall on February 25th, 1890, at the Royal Aquarium, the following players taking part in heats of 1,250 up:-Billy Mitchell, W. J. Peall. John Dowland Fred White, George Collins. Hugh McNeil, Harry Coles, and Fred Bennett. The issue once more was decided in the heat between Peall and Mitchell, the former made breaks of 416 (137 spots) and 531 (176 spots) to win 1,250-121.

George Wright & Co – Championship of the World Tournament (February 1891)

The third and final “Championship of the World” tournament promoted by George Wright & Co Championship was played at the Royal Aquarium on May 30th, 1891, and won once more by W. J. Peall. Four players only competed on this occasion-W. J. Peall, Billy Mitchell, John Dowland, and Charles Dawson-in heats of 2,500, up.

Mitchell and Peall played off, and in the first half of the game Mitchell only scored 78 points. Peall made breaks of 773 (256 spots), 390 (7, 28, and 90 spots), and 655 unfinished (214 spots); Mitchell made a break of 650 (213 spots). Scores: Peall, 2,500; Mitchell, 776.

Billiard Association Billiard Championship (1892)

The Billiard Association, recognised that this situation regarding the “spot-barred” and “all-in” games could not easily be resolved and at their meeting on 28th April 1891 decided to take action. Seeking to reconcile both parties, they decided to stage both a “spot-barred” and “all-in” championship, both for professional and amateur competition. The first of these contests being scheduled for the following season. In addition, the Billiard Association abolished the “championship” table with its 3″ pockets and adopted the dimensions of an ordinary table with pocket openings of 3 5/8″ as the “Standard” for all future championship matches.

But Roberts sabotaged their plans by declining to play in either of these championships and in April 1891 left for a tour of South Africa and Australia. As a result, and despite the best plans of the Billiard Association, the new competitions became meaningless in the view of the general public.

Not to be deterred by the absence of Roberts, the Billiard Association went ahead with their Championship matches. The first to be played was the “All-in” Championship which was officially called the “Billiard Championship” had eight entrants including, W. J. Peall, Billy Mitchell and Charles Dawson. The competition was staged at Orme & Sons Showrooms, Soho Square and was concluded on 9th April 1892.

The Championship cups were given by the proprietors of The Sporting Life, The Sportsman, and two or three of the billiard-table manufacturers. These gentlemen met, and various silversmith’s submitted designs for cups to cost about £100. Messrs. Carrington’s, of Regent Street, offered them a cup which was not a new one. It appears that it was originally given as a £250 prize for something connected with stag-hunting, and the jewellers had bought it back. It was such a bargain that it was purchased at once and allocated for the Billiards Championship For both championships, cups would become the property of the player winning three times in succession, or six times in all, or holding the title for three consecutive years.

A condition of the championship was that a new cloth should be fitted each day, as it was considered that tracks worn in the nap from repeated potting from the spot, made the stroke easier. The heats were 5,000 up with Peall drawn to play Charles Dawson in the first round with Mitchell receiving a bye. In the event Peall disposed of both Dawson and Mitchell with ease, the scores being 5,000-1,699 against Dawson and 5,000-1,755 against Mitchell. In this latter match Peall made a break of 2,099 unfinished. Peall’s supremacy with the spot stroke remained unchallenged over the next three years and the championship trophy became his property.

Billiard Association Spot-barred Championship (1892)

The “Spot-barred” championship attracted five entrants and was played at Thurston’s Showrooms in the Strand on 25th April 1892. Heats were 4,000 up. The entrants, each staking £100, were Billy Mitchell, W. J. Peall, John North, William Cook and Harry Coles.

Peall was defeated by 140 points in the first round by Harry Coles, who turned in one of the best performances of his career. Billy Mitchell defeated William Cook and John North received a bye. North then defeated Coles and met Mitchell in the deciding tie. Mitchell won by the comfortable margin of 3,000-2,697 to take the title of “Spot-barred” Champion. [19 p.97/145][1 p.136][06b p.7]

Billiard Association Spot-barred Championship (1893)

On 25th February 1893, Mitchell was required to defend his Billiard Association “Spot-barred” championship against John North at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly. Mitchell managed to retain his title very easily with breaks of 236; 231 and 212. North’s best break was 190 and the final score 9,000-6,525 to Mitchell.

Billiard Association Spot-barred Championship (1894)

Mitchell was challenged for his Billiard Association “Spot-barred” Championship title by Charles Dawson and the match took place at the National Sporting Club, Covent Garden, on 13th January 1894. Mitchell retained his title over a week’s play with the final score being 9,000-8,163. Mitchell made twenty seven breaks over 100, with the highest being 306, and Dawson had nineteen century plus breaks with a best of 257. Mitchell not only took the stake of £100, but also took possession of the trophy having won it three times in a row.

Mitchell’s Championship cup was later pawned to Tommy Mander, who kept the Green Dragon in Fleet Street, and years afterwards it became a challenge trophy for the Press Billiard Handicap and the last winner was Mr. J. H. Warland of The Sportsman. It was left in charge of the firm who gave the use of the hall the competition was played in. They got into difficulties and the Official Receiver came in and captured the cup, which has not been heard of since.

The Billiard Association Championship : 1899

In new rules which came into operation on 1st October 1898 the Billiards Association finally accepted overwhelming public opinion and barred the push stroke. The rules now stipulated that “If the striker push his ball, or strike it more than once, he cannot score, such stroke to be a foul”. The Spot Stroke was also effectively banned by the adoption of a rule which stated “After being pocketed from the billiard spot twice in consecutive strokes by the same player, and not in conjunction with any other score, it shall be placed on the centre spot”. The rule was something of a compromise over the most used “spot-barred” condition previously applied on a voluntary basis. This allowed only one pot with the red returned to its spot and the stipulation that a different scoring stroke be made before another pot red.

The player most adversely affected by the new rules was W. J. Peall. His invincibility with the spot stroke vanished overnight when the Billiards Association introduced their “spot barred” rule. But Peall never complained, having previously recognised the damage caused to spectator interest and typically putting the best interests of the game ahead of his own. In fact Peal supported the change and voted for the new rule.

Soon after issuing the revised rules, the Billiard association announced an open championship. The terms of the competition were that the game by 9,000 up, played on a “Standard” table, each competitor to stake £20. The winner would receive three quarters of the stakes, a gold medal from the Association and £100 per annum so long as he held the championship. The runner-up would take one quarter of the stakes and the gate money (after deducting expenses) would be shared equally between the finalists.

In the first contest Billy Mitchell, John North and Charles Dawson were the only entrants, but Mitchell later withdrew leaving North and Dawson to fight for the title. The match took place at the Gaiety Restaurant, Strand from 9th-14th January 1899 and Dawson proved an easy winner by 4,285 points.

The Lindrum movement

With the balls bunched near the top cushion, in the vicinity of the right-hand top pocket he quickly and deftly steers them along the top cushion, taps them past the facing top pocket with effortless ease, takes them a little way down the table, then makes them stop while he scores his dozen or more of exquisite kiss- cannons which barely change the position of the balls. On he goes, the flow of his ball control unchecked by the semblance of a mistake in positional play. At last, having collected his two hundred or more of points by a close-cannon display unrivalled in rapidity of execution, he brings the balls to the middle pocket. Then he takes them away from the cushion, plays a deft mid- pocket in-off, and at once changes the character of his display.

Continuing from hand, a simple in-off white soon sends that ball to the centre of the top cushion, or nearly so. A pot red into the same middle pocket is handled with consummate mastery, which leaves ideal spot-end position when the red is spotted. Lindrum then exploits the alternating red-winner- cannon movement until he sees a chance to get the, balls together again almost where his break began. This completes “the Lindrum. Movement”, but not his break – that may run into thousands before a mistake destroys the harmony of the movement and all is over.

Memories of Walter Lindrum in Singapore

“I was in Singapore from May 1956 until January 1971 and had the great privilege of meeting Walter Lindrum when he was there in 1957. I watched him play at the Singapore Badminton Hall and he also went on to play in Kuala Lumpur during the same tour. As far as Walter’s exhibitions in Singapore were concerned, I understand that he had, not only his own set of balls, but also his own cushions’ as well. Whereas, in the days when many clubs didn’t have air conditioning – the Badminton Hall certainly didn’t – many players used talcum powder to ease the cue on the bridge hand. Walter used a damp handkerchief which he said was much better. Powder made a real mess of the cloth, particularly when used as liberally as some did. Most of the tables in non air-conditioned clubs had under slate heating of some sort as the humidity was always very high. To watch Walter performing under those conditions at the age of 59 was a wonderful experience which I shall never forget.”

Robert Marshall’s controversial qualification for the World Amateur Championship of 1936

Walter Lindrum once said to me, “Tom, you must practice until you almost break your back. I am irritated when I hear people say that proficiency at billiards is the sign of a misspent youth. If such were the case, do you think I would have been invited by the late King George V to give a command performance at Buckingham Palace?” The expressions “pool room” and “billiard saloon” do not sound respectable to some people, but I would point out that all the leading amateur and professional players acquired their skills at billiards and snooker within the confines of sporting and social clubs. At the age of fifteen years I commenced to learn billiards at the CYMS Club in Yarraville, which was a non-licensed club. It is a pity that young people are unable to join licensed clubs until they are 21 years of age, although they may drive a motorcar when 18. The appeal of billiards passes by these young people because they are not being presented with an opportunity to learn the game in the most favourable circumstances.

When I was 21, I was playing No. 1 for the Yarraville CYMS team. My good friend and mentor, Fred Guest, then thought that it was time that I had a crack at some of Melbourne’s leading amateurs, so he arranged a match for me with Jim Bracy, one of the leading players at that time. The match took place on a Sunday afternoon at the St Kilda Tradesmen’s Club, of which Jim was a member. Fred and I, accompanied by a few supporters, journeyed to St Kilda by train. No doubt some of the billiards enthusiasts had heard of me, as a good crowd was in attendance.

The match was to be 500 up, and was refereed by the late Charles Allen, who was a 100-break player and was to become one of Melbourne’s leading bookmakers. At first I found the table somewhat strange and, furthermore, I was a little nervous, so that I started off poorly. I overheard Charlie Allen remark to Fred Guest that he was sorry for me. Indeed, I was feeling sorry for myself! However, at last I made position at the top of the table and managed a break of 115. Many of the onlookers were mildly astonished as they had not previously witnessed this type of play. The match finally resulted in a narrow victory to me and, needless to say, I was very pleased and so was Fred Guest. Charlie Allen then remarked “Within two years this lad will be the Victorian Champion”, and from that day he became one of my best supporters.

I was immediately invited to play with the St Kilda Club in the South Suburban Billiards Association competition, and eventually I played No 2 in the team under Jim Bracy. That same year I won the single-handed championship of the Association, defeating Bracy in the final. Jim, of course, was the warm favourite to win that title and his name had already been engraved on a beautiful silver cup. However, one week later I was the proud owner of that trophy – which then bore my name! This trophy was my first and it still takes pride of place in my home.

These events marked my entry into the wider field of competitive billiards, in which I was further assisted by Fred Guest. At my first try at the Victorian Title I reached the quarter-final stage, to be defeated by Bill Carter, an excellent red ball player. In the following year (1935) I reached the final and was opposed to Charles Norman, a member of the South Yarra Club, who was a double strength player and very hard to beat. In this match I was a little “jittery” and did not employ much top of the table play, being content to rely upon the all-round game. However, I managed to win by 150.

In the following year I again reached the final, this time to be opposed by Fred Hancock, who could play top of the table. I was afraid to match my “top” against his and decided to again play all-round billiards. Much to my dismay, Fred easily defeated me. But I learned this lesson: a good top of the table player would always beat a good all-round player. I did not fall into this error again and thereafter concentrated on top of the table, with continuing success.

The winner of this match was selected to represent Victoria in the Australian Championship to be played in South Australia. The winner of the Australian Title was then to travel to South Africa to compete in the British Empire Amateur Billiards Championship (as the World Championship was then known). It was confidently expected that Fred Hancock would win the National Title and get the overseas trip – but that was not to be.

At this time Bob Marshall had won the Western Australian Title and was entered for the National Title event. He had a big reputation, but his amateur status was suspect. The amateur rules were strictly controlled and certain people in the inner circle of billiards administration were suggesting that Bob Marshall would not make the grade as an amateur. It was rumoured that Bob’s father had conducted a billiard saloon in the West and that Bob had worked for him. From a strict amateur viewpoint this was “taboo” and for this reason some people considered that Bob would not be allowed to compete in the Australian Championship series.

Fred Hancock knew of all this and naturally continued to practice furiously, with an eye on the overseas trip. If this eventuated, he was to be accompanied by a manager- Jack Oke – who was the billiards writer for a Melbourne evening newspaper. At that time, in direct contrast given to billiards by way of news coverage today, the game received fairly wide publicity in the daily press. Jack Oke made the trip to Adelaide as a Victorian Delegate and he met with the Delegates from the other States to investigate the amateur status of Bob Marshall.

After a meeting lasting about ten hours, the Delegates voted 3 to 2 against Bob competing in the National Title series, which then commenced. Fred Hancock easily won his first match and looked to be the certain winner of the Title. Then came a sensation! A special meeting of Delegates was called to further investigate the position of Marshall and next morning it was announced that he was to play in the Championship series after all. It appeared that the Delegate from New South Wales had changed his mind. Bob duly won the Australian Title and went on to South Africa to annex the World Title, proving himself to be the best amateur billiards player in the world. Fred Hancock was very disappointed at the turn of events and never competed again in a championship.

The Brunswick Club

In the five successive years I won the Victorian Title and I considered that my success was due to greatly improved top of the table play. In this period of severe economic depression I had been unemployed for about two years. Eventually I was reinstated as an employee of the Victorian Railways and was soon asked to play with the Railways billiards team. My work was that of a machinist. This was hard work and not conducive to playing good billiards, but I was happy to be again employed.

A turning point came in my life when a good friend, Dick Jacques, who was a committee man of the Brunswick Club, approached me with a suggestion that I play billiards for that club. Furthermore, employment was available to me, the club offering further advancement and better wages than I was at that time receiving. I decided to accept this offer and tendered my resignation to the Victorian Railways, at the same time applying for a clearance to play billiards with Brunswick. To my surprise, the clearance was refused. Just imagine such a clearance being refused today! Mr Reg Harding who was then President of the Brunswick club, fought my case at the next meeting of Delegates to the Melbourne Clubs Amateur Billiards Association. A Mr Ben Fallone, a gentleman of high repute in the Victorian Railways, also came to my assistance and eventually the clearance was granted.

I commenced working with the Brunswick Club as a storeman and was later appointed assistant to the Secretary, whose work had become increasingly heavy because of the Club’s expansion. At that time the Manager-Secretary was Ben Warr. Without doubt he was the finest Club Manager I have known. Although he was a hard man, he was also very kind and was liked by all who associated with him. He was extraordinarily capable, and it was his drive and leadership which were responsible for the success of the Club which was to become one of the leading sporting clubs in Melbourne. Mr Reg Harding headed the Committee as President.

I became the No. 1 player in the Club’s top billiards team and from that time on the standard of my play improved enormously, and I felt that I was reaching up towards world competition class. I was able to get plenty of practice and after I had completed my duties I scarcely left the billiards tables. George Ganim and Bob Dickenson, both first-class players from Geelong, journeyed twice a week to Melbourne to play with the club. I was able to help George improve his game and he became one of Victoria’s best billiards players. Bob was also a stylish player, but he never adopted top of the table style of playing. Consequently he did not reach championship standard. Another outstanding player was Gus White, who on one occasion won the Victorian Snooker Title. Frank Egan, Dick Jacques, Harry Watson, ‘Doc’ Liversidge, Frank Warton and Fred Piera were all good players capable of making a 100-break. In those days the Brunswick team was not often defeated and won many premierships. In fact, the Club was regarded as the leading billiards club in Victoria. When billiards matches were in progress the Club was usually packed to capacity, which greatly contributed to the Club’s progress.

At this time the Brunswick Club functioned in leased premises, a building which in earlier years had been known as the Lyric Theatre. Only a small portion of this huge building was leased to the club, but in view of its expanding activities, negotiations were entered into with the owners of the building and eventually it was purchased by the club for £ 12,000 ($24,000). This transaction has proved to be a bargain. Today the property, which includes many improvements effected by the club, must be worth in the vicinity of $160,000. Present members of the club owe a great debt of gratitude to Reg Harding and members of the committee who negotiated that transaction.

Much the same might also be said about the South Yarra club, which has also had some great billiards players among it members. Jim Long, Jim Bracy, Col Norman, Frank Freston and Jack Langley were all champions. The South Yarra Club had progressed from what was once a double-fronted dwelling to a comfortable and modern two-storey building containing excellent appointments for its members. Much of this progress might also be said to be the result of the success of the club’s billiards players.

A fund-raising tour of Australia with Walter Lindrum

During the Second World War the Brunswick and South Yarra Clubs staged a challenge match to augment funds for the fighting forces and by this means raised £3,185 ($6,370). In the light of this success, a further match was arranged and this time netted £4,220 ($6,440). On each occasion Brunswick was the winner. Subsequently a number of the players who took part in these matches were honoured by being appointed life members of their respective clubs.

Then came Australia’s complete involvement in the Second World War. I was not employed in a “protected” industry, so decided to enlist in the RAAF, with an assurance that the position would remain open for me when hostilities ceased. I was posted to an Air Force Welfare Unit and No 1 Stores Depot, in Port Melbourne, and very soon I was able to obtain two billiard tables, one from Mr Leo Hemingway and the other from the Brunswick Club. These tables provided me with opportunities to practice in my spare time. Soon I was being asked to give billiards exhibitions at Air Force Stations throughout Victoria.

A little later I was contacted by Walter Lindrum, who had been devoting much time and effort to raising funds for the fighting forces by giving exhibitions of billiards. He asked me to accompany him on a tour of South Australia to raise money for patriotic funds. I seized this opportunity with enthusiasm as I knew that I could learn a lot from Walter, and the necessary leave was arranged. Walter would never travel by air, for what reason I never enquired, so we commenced our six weeks tour on the “Overland Express”. Incidentally, the only time I can recall air travel being required for Walter was on the occasion of his untimely death, when his body was flown from Queensland to Melbourne. At that time he had been holidaying at Surfer’s Paradise with an old friend and billiards enthusiast, Frank Williams.

The South Australian tour had been arranged by the late Pat Brady, a billiard table manufacturer, who was accompanied by Pat, Junior. Walter, of course, was the star performer and I was the “Jack-of’-all-trades” which meant I was commentator, referee, and occasionally filling in with an exhibition. Pat, junior, was the tradesman who attended to the tables and equipment. All the receipts from our exhibitions were placed in the hands of Pat, senior.

Walter and I shared a compartment on the train journey to Adelaide and his only topic of conversation was billiards! At last I had to feign sleep, but Walter, who suffered from insomnia, would nudge me and ask for a cigarette, and then take up the conversation again. Half way through the night journey he woke me saying “Tom, would you have a look under the seat and see that my gear is intact? It would be a shame if I had forgotten something”. I examined his kit and reported that all was in order, whereupon Walter said, “get out the billiard balls”. I did so and handed them to him. Walter fondled them for a few minutes and then addressed them, “you poor things! You are in for a hiding shortly. I hope you are kind to me”. He then kissed them saying “please forgive me”!

In Adelaide we were met by the Bradys and commenced our tour by car. When giving exhibitions Walter always brought along his own cushions, to be attached to the table on which he was to play. There are two types of cushion – strip rubber and block rubber. Strip rubber cushions are made up of six thin pieces of rubber solutioned together and allow the ball to bite in on impact and take the necessary “side”. Block rubber cushions are of solid rubber which causes the ball to rebound much more quickly and “side” does not react so readily. Strip rubber cushions are considered to be more desirable for billiards.

The tour commenced in the heat of February, with Walter’s cushions strapped on to the bumper bars of the car. Ideally billiards is a winter game because heat and humidity do not make for good playing conditions, but Walter was not unduly deterred. We headed for Port Augusta where we were to play on a table specially set up at the skating rink. We had received good advance publicity and faced a crowd of about 600. Walter was in magnificent form and quickly ran up a break of 1000 unfinished. My job was to explain the shots and at the same time appeal for donations from the crowd.

The larger donations were forthcoming when Walter played his trick shots. After three hours of hard work Walter was exhausted by his efforts, but the exhibition had realised a sum of £2,600 ($5,200). After a night’s rest, we journeyed to Port Pirie, starting at 7.00am but before long the temperature was 106 degrees! Our progress was somewhat slow and eventually we reached our destination at 3.15pm. After a quick shower and change of clothes, we arrived at the Port Pirie Sportsmen’s Club only half an hour late.

Pat had no time in which to change the cushions. Walter took one look at the table and almost cried “They’re block rubber cushions”!. He threw a ball up the table and it travelled seven lengths. He said “I’ll do no good on this table”. And neither he did. He was unable to compile a break of 100. After about an hour, Walter suddenly announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen I am sorry but I am not well. We have travelled a long distance today and I need a rest. I assure you that I’ll have recovered by evening”. He knew that there would be an opportunity to change the cushions. But, to my astonishment, he then introduced me to the crowd, saying “I am sure that Mr Cleary will substitute for me for the remainder of the afternoon and that he will keep you happy”. To add to my confusion, I had left my cue at the hotel. Walter explained this to the crowd, at the same time handing me his own cue, saying “Here Tom, use my cue”. To the onlookers this appeared to be a great gesture – but not to me! I had never used Walter’s cue. But I had to do something. About 700 people present had paid £1.00 each to see an exhibition of billiards, so I immediately challenged the local champion, Jack Gregory to a match of 500 up, giving him 250 start. I broke and Jack immediately followed with a break of 76. I told myself that this was my great moment to do something and surprised myself by compiling a break of 376, mainly from all round billiards as the table was much too fast for top of the table play. At the time, I considered that this was my best performance on a billiard table.

Although I had commenced playing under adverse conditions, the crowd was quick to appreciate my effort. During a short interval in the match a collection among the onlookers added a further £410 to our fund raising effort. Jack Gregory failed to score at his next visit to the table and I ran out with a break of 125 unfinished. At the conclusion of the game, four leading businessmen of the town handed in cheques to the value of £100, and further contributions from those present realised £165. Our organiser, Pat Brady donated a further £20 and another £200 resulted from an exhibition of trick shots given by myself. Never in my widest dreams had I thought that I would raise such a large sum of money by an exhibition of billiards.

I then returned to the hotel to find out how Walter was faring. After a good rest he had recovered, and when I told him what had happened he was so thrilled that he kissed me! He was glad that I had come along to assist him. He then enquired if Pat Brady had changed the cushions, and was pleased when I told him that it was being attended to.

In the evening an even larger crowd arrived. People were hungry to see the great Walter Lindrum. The cushions had been changed and everything was in readiness. There was no opponent for Walter – he always gave solo exhibitions. He announced to the crowd that he would endeavour to make a 1000 break. I was in charge of the demonstration and placed the balls at the top of the table position. Hundred after hundred rolled off Walter’s cue. At 600 he got the balls into a nursery cannon position and without visible effort ran the break to 1000 unfinished. The applause was deafening. He then gave a brilliant exhibition of trick shots, followed by a game of snooker with me. I broke and Walter followed on to clear the table with a break of 138. Walter gave a magnificent performance on the strip rubber cushions. The people of Port Pirie were generous. Never before had I seen to much money change hands so quickly. A sum of £2,000 was contributed during the evening, making a total of £3,200 for the two sessions. We continued to travel through to South Australia and in six weeks raised £40,000 – a really magnificent effort from a billiards table.

I then returned to my Unit at Port Melbourne and was immediately posted to Darwin, which meant a spell from the billiards table. Six months later the war ended and within a short time I was back in my old job at the Brunswick Club, and again playing billiards. I quickly discovered that, with the experience I had gained from watching Walter play, I was playing better than ever. In addition to playing in competitive games for the Brunswick Club, I was inundated with invitations to give exhibitions. For quite some time I was out every night of the week playing billiards, but fortunately I had an understanding wife! Over the next three years I gave countless exhibitions for various charitable causes and was responsible for raising about £8,000. For this service I was awarded a medal by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II at the time of her coronation.

I won the Victorian Amateur Billiards Championship from 1947 to 1950, in which year I was selected to take part in the Australian Championship held in Melbourne. The Western Australian representative was Bob Marshall, to whom I had been runer-up in this event on four previous occasions. This time Bob and I again reached the final. On my first visit to the table I made a break of 285, followed by 276, and on my third visit I made 306. At this stage I had a lead of 860, so I reverted to safety play. At the end of the first session I had a lead of 1,100. I said to myself, “he will not beat me now! I’ll play the red ball tonight and slow down the game” And that is what I did. I won by only 444, but it was my first Australian Championship. Bob was bitterly disappointed at his defeat, but I regret to say that in the following year he got his revenge. This was the one that I wanted, as it meant a trip to England for the Word Title. It had been one of my life’s ambitions to play billiards in England, the home of this grand game.

After that championship Bob broke down in the dressing room. He could not believe that I had beaten him. I told him, “Bob, I have taken a hiding from you for many years. Surely you don’t begrudge me this win?”. Bob was no invincible when his opponent went with him. In the West he had no one to beat; consequently he had no hard match practice. However, Bob was such a popular sporting figure in the West that pressure was brought to bear and permission was sought from England to allow him to compete in the World Title. The authorities there knew of his ability and realised that his presence in the Championship series would be a tremendous draw-card. The result was that the Billiards Association and Control Council granted permission for Bob to take part provided he paid his own expenses. The sportsmen of Western Australia came to his aid, with the result that Australia had two representatives in the World Championship on that occasion.

Billiards at Buckingham Palace

I left Melbourne by air in September, 1951, and on arrival in England was met by Horace Lindrum and Bob Marshall. Bob and his Scottish-born wife, Jean, had travelled earlier by ship and it was a good opportunity for Jean to visit her relatives in Scotland. I was domiciled at the famous Albany Club in Saville Row, London. This so-called “posh” club is noted for its history and tradition, but I discovered that it was a somewhat ordinary old-fashioned building. I was given a room that was supposed to have been occupied by Lady Hamilton well over 100 years before and at that time I daresay it was first-class.

The Albany Club was frequented by many leading stage and screen stars, of whom I met quite a number including Tommy Trinder, Arthur Askey, Sonny Tufts, Danny Kaye and Gracie Fields. A Bill Little was the owner and manager of the club. Because I was the Australian Amateur Billiards Champion I suspect he thought I was a wealthy man, because he introduced me to many of the “stars” of the theatre and even invited me to attend a gala dinner with them. At that time, television was in its relative infancy and a portion of the proceedings were televised. Everyone attending the dinner was expected to provide a small item, or skit, to add to the evening’s fun. I was seated between Danny Kaye and Gracie Fields, when Danny asked me if I would like to appear on television. “What could I do?” I said. Nothing further was said at the time and the dinner continued. However, later on Danny said to me, “Go up to your room and see if you can find an umbrella. Take this vase and orange with you and practice potting the orange off the table into the vase. And don’t forget your chalk!”.

To pluck up courage I swallowed a whisky, then left the dinner to find an umbrella. Much to my surprise, I discovered it was quite easy to lift the orange into the vase using the umbrella as a cue. So I rejoined the party at dinner and told Danny that I could do the trick. A little later Danny announced to the gathering, “We have with us tonight Tom Cleary, the wonder boy from down under, who is in London to compete in the world’s Amateur Billiards Championship. He will now give you a little demonstration of billiards”. I quickly gulped down another whisky, placed the orange and the vase on the table, chalked the end of the umbrella and said, “This is how it is done”. I “potted” the orange into the air, but I had hit it too hard. Instead of going into the vase, it landed in a large bowl of water filled with flowers and, amidst laughter, everyone seated nearby was splashed. Apparently they all thought that it was my intention. And that signalled my entry into the Albany Club!

Previously, a good friend, Jack Le Francie, had visited England as a member of an Australian Bowls Team. During this visit he had become friendly with Mr John Blyfield, the King’s Entertainment Manager and, as a result, he and his wife had been shown through Buckingham Palace. Before I left Australia Jack said to me, “I would like you to see the Palace while you are in England”. I said “You must be joking”! However, he immediately wrote to Mr Blyfield asking him to look after me. When I had been in London for a week I telephoned Mr Blyfield, introducing myself. He was very friendly and told me he would arrange a visit to the Palace.

On that day I was scheduled to play a match against Walter Ramage and suggested to Mr Blyfield that he might like to watch the game. He thanked me and said he would be delighted to attend. I was in good form that day and make a break of 316 – all top of the table. Incidentally, it was voted the best-compiled break of the championship series, for which I was later presented with a set of snooker balls together with a beautiful leather case.

My performance must have impressed Mr Blyfield, for he said to me “Tom, when you visit the Palace you must give us an exhibition of billiards”. I readily agreed as it was a great compliment to be asked to play on the table at Buckingham Palace. Mr Blyfield asked me not to inform any of the newspapers that I was to play at the Palace as, unfortunately, King George VI was very ill at the time and it was not desired that the public should know the seriousness of his illness. At that time, Walter Lindrum and I were the only players who had been invited to give a billiards exhibition at Buckingham Palace.

The date for the exhibition was arranged and an official invitation forwarded to me. On Friday, 21st October, 1953, a Royal car arrived at the Albany Club to take me to luncheon at the Palace. At 1.00pm I was conducted to the King’s billiard room and, to my surprise, I observed that the colour of the cloth on the table was almost purple. The cloth had not been replaced since Walter Lindrum had played on the table before the late King George V during the 1930′s. King George V was a keen lover of billiards, but King George VI was not interested in the game – hence the condition of the table.

However, the table played well and to my satisfaction. At my first visit to the table I made a break of 311, followed by 259 – so I was extremely pleased with myself. Two frames of snooker followed, and then I amused the sixty odd people present with some trick shots. The onlookers comprised some of the administrative staff employed at the Palace. Unfortunately, no members of the Royal Family were present. The present Queen, Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip were holidaying at Windsor Castle, and I had missed Princess Margaret by about five minutes, she having had another appointment.

My exhibition finished at 3.00pm and Sir Pearce Leigh, who was in charge of the Royal household thanked me and asked Mr Blyfield to show me around the Palace. For the next three hours Mr Blyfield escorted me through the 165 State Rooms in the Palace. I was astounded by their magnificence and by the beautiful furniture and chandeliers. Each room measured approximately 40 feet square. What caught my eye was the hand-controlled clocks. There were two clocks in each room, each mounted on a marble pedestal – 330 clocks in all! I was informed that two mechanics were employed on the daily round of winding the clocks and keeping them in order, and that they were never one second out!

The gold and silver plate room in the Palace was magnificent. The many pieces displayed there must have been worth many thousands of pounds, likewise the beautiful paintings in the portrait room. I was shown the War Cabinet Room where Winston Churchill presided during the years of the Second World War. I also saw the huge and beautiful ballroom, in which was a large chair about six feet high, lavishly decorated with gold trimmings. It was situated on a platform and I was told that it was here that Royal Investitures took place. Amid laughter, I took the opportunity of performing an “investiture” on Mr Blyfield.

We then passed down a corridor some 300 feet long and, upon passing one particular room, Mr Blyfield informed me that the King was lying very ill in that room – in fact, it was believed that he was dying. I remarked that it seemed strange that no guards were present. I was told, “Don’t worry. Your credentials were well investigated before you were invited”. At 6.00pm we adjourned to the reception hall, where we again met Sir Pearce Leigh and some of the administrative staff. Sir Pearce immediately said to me “Cleary! I think you would partake of a drink?” I answered “By all means”, and a bottle of Highland Queen was immediately produced. I then asked Sir Pearce if it would be possible for him to give me some token by which I could remember my visit to Buckingham Palace. I told him that my Australian friends would not believe me if I informed them that I had visited Buckingham Palace! He pondered for a short time, then said he would see into the matter.

In a couple of days, two letters arrived for me at the Albany Club – one thanking me for my exhibition, and the other containing an invitation card bearing the Royal Crest. When I arrived home I had both documents framed, and today they are proudly displayed in my billiard room. Needless to say, more than one bottle of Highland Queen was drunk during my visit to the Palace. When I departed I was in high spirits indeed, and would not have called the King my uncle. It is sad to relate that some six months later King George VI passed away.

Apart from my stay at the Albany Club and visits to the royal household and Scotland Yard, to my regret I did not see very much of London. It was very noticeable that those in charge of the Billiards Association and Control Council were reluctant to provide hospitality for visiting players, and I had to find my own way about the City, even to places at which I was to play. The championship matches were played at Burroughs & Watts Hall, which I knew was in Soho Square and eventually I managed to find it. I walked as much as possible for exercise, as well as to look around the City. Several times in the first few days I became lost. In most host countries it is customary for the controlling body to look after the wants of competitors as much as possible, but I regret that on this occasion such was not the case. The competitors were not even taken on weekend trips or shown around London. Even on the completion of the championship series there was no presentation ceremony or celebration, and most of the players made their way to a small café in Soho Square to partake of sandwiches and tea. On Sunday, Mr White, the Agent-General for Victoria, arranged for a car to take Bob Marshall and me to Brighton and Eastbourne, two seaside resorts. He also arranged for Bob and me to give an exhibition match at Scotland Yard, which was followed by a trip on the Thames in a police yacht.

After the championship matches were completed, Bob and his wife left for Scotland and I arranged to stay in London for a further week to have a look around. However, after one day on my own I became lonely, so I called on BIAC and was fortunate enough to obtain a seat for the following day. In spite of the disappointments to which I have referred, I loved London and its history and tradition. Much of the wartime bomb destruction still remained and it was obvious that the people had suffered severe hardship during the war years. However, the people whom I met were most hospitable and helpful. Incidentally, Bob Marshall won the World Title; Frank Edwards, the English Champion, was runner-up, and I was third.

First visit to India

A dislike of spiced food and a diet of bananas saw Clearly lose 14lbs in weight.

In 1949, the strain of long hours and arduous duties at the Brunswick Club, as well as playing billiards on most nights, commenced to take its toll on my health. My son (Kevin) and daughter (Kathleen) had both married, which frequently left my wife at home alone at night. In addition, there was no doubt in my mind that the long hours and heavy duties, especially at night, expected of a Club Manager had hastened the death of my predecessor. All these problems were confronting me and, after discussing the position with my wife, I reluctantly decided to tender my resignation as Manager of the Club. It was a difficult decision to make, as the Brunswick Club had been very kind to me. Indeed, the Club had provided me with a business education, as well as enabling me to have an opportunity of becoming, perhaps, one of the top amateur billiard players in the world.

I gave the Club three months notice of my intentions, during which period I received an invitation from the Indian Billiards Association to make a tour of India with the object of promoting billiards in that country. As I felt the need of a holiday, I readily accepted the invitation. I left Melbourne in October, 1949, naturally in some state of excitement. I soon discovered that travelling overseas could provide many disappointments. For instance, the plane’s first stop after leaving Australia for Djakarta for refuelling. The passengers were herded like sheep, under a military guard, and were not allowed to leave the airport. We were not provided with food or drink until we again boarded the aircraft.

Our next stop was overnight in Singapore, where there was a long delay with Customs. My baggage was opened and the contents strewn all over the place. The official said to me, “have you any sticks”? I soon realised he was referring to cigarettes and answered, “There are a few packets there”. They were amongst my clothing and the official promptly selected six packets and placed them in his pocket, then cleared me. After I had rearranged my luggage it was left with BOAC for forwarding to Calcutta, my destination. Then with my overnight bag I was conducted to the Raffles Hotel for the night.

Next day I arrived at Dum Dum airport at Calcutta and was met by the Indian billiards officials. Unfortunately, my baggage had not arrived with the plane and all I had was what I stood in, together with the contents of my overnight bag, my cue and a set of billiard balls. I was in a nice fix, but at least I had my tools to work with! Ten days later I recovered my baggage in Madras. In the meantime the Indian Billiards Association fitted me out with a complete new wardrobe.

The Dum Dum Airport is about thirteen miles from the City of Calcutta, but it took about two hours to reach the Great Eastern Hotel where I was to stay. The roads were crowded with people and each vehicle using the road was fitted with two “tooters”. One worked from the car battery in the usual manner and the other was operated by hand. The latter was necessary because the car battery would not have lasted 30 minutes! It was necessary to blow the horn almost continuously to clear the road of people. The noise for the whole journey was deafening and I was relieved when we reached the hotel.

To add to my discomfort, I was nearly sick from the stench rising from the roadway. There seemed to be no sanitary conveniences for the general use of the public, and it was a strange sight to see men and women urinating and defecating along the public highway. I was informed that the ordure was gathered up weekly and subsequently burned, hence the horrible stench. At the time it was the dry season and lack of rain added to the problem. I was appalled at the conditions under which these poor people lived. Their clothing appeared to be only a dirty loincloth, and mostly they slept on the streets. A splash of water from an odd tap provided a wash, but they had no soap. Soap is a comparative luxury in India and these poor people were quite unable to obtain it. Perhaps they were not even aware of it.

The person responsible for my tour was Mr Begg, the President of the Indian Billiards Association. On my way to the hotel Mr Begg handed me some coins saying “Do not be too liberal with your money, or you will be inundated with beggars”. Upon arriving at the hotel I was besieged by servants who wanted to carry my luggage (my overnight bag and cue), but I was reluctant to part with it. Mr Begg muttered that it would be all right, and I was then taken to my room on the fifth floor.

After about half an hour I became worried that the servant had not arrived with my bag and cue. I was unaware that servants were not allowed to use the elevator. Eventually there was a knock on my door and three servants entered the room with my gear. I thanked them, but they did not move. I then realised that they were waiting for a tip, so I fumbled with the coins Mr Begg had given to me, but did not know their value or how much to give each servant. I decided to give each servant one of the largest coins, but their expressions indicated that they were not very happy. Eventually they left, but later I found out that the large coin was the equivalent of about one-penny. No wonder they glared at me! I was unable to rectify the matter as I was unable to tell one Indian servant from another. No doubt I was held in low esteem by all the hotel servants after that incident.

I was unable to sleep that night because of the loud “tooting” of passing motor cars. It was like a children’s party on Christmas Day! I had been placed in a second-class room which had no windows, but on the following day I corrected that. The following morning Mr Begg arrived with a tailor and a few samples of cloth. I selected a beautiful grey silk material and, after being measured, my suit was ready for me to wear at one o’clock that afternoon. I purchased the remainder of my requirements in the Great Eastern Hotel, where it was possible to buy anything from a pin to an elephant! Mr Begg apologised for my discomfort on the previous night and, after doing some more shopping, he conducted me to my new living quarters – a well-appointed large room with all modern conveniences. So I began to think that life in India was not so bad after all.

That evening I was given an official reception, amid much pomp and splendor. Whisky flowed like water, the food was appetising and I was waited upon like royalty. However, this luxury living was not to last, as I was informed that I was to commence my tour of the country next morning. I was to be accompanied by a Mr V. Freer, who was Amateur Billiards Champion of India at that time. He was a train driver by occupation and was a good all round player.

We travelled by train to Vizagapatam, which is approximately 100 miles from Calcutta, for our first exhibition match. The playing conditions were somewhat ordinary and the club in which we played only held about 60 spectators comfortably. However, about 100 people somehow managed to crowd into the billiard room, and there was scarcely room left for us to move around the table. Mr Freer and I played a match of 600 up. I broke and left the balls in a good position for him, which is the usual thing to do when giving an exhibition. He ran up a break of 110, and then played safety. I could see that he was going to be a tough opponent. Foolishly I tried to score but missed, leaving the balls in a good scoring position. This time he made a break of 169, and again played safety. By this time I was in real trouble. The table was fitted with block rubber cushions and was running fast – about nine lengths – and the cloth was like glass, with no nap left on it. The conditions were such that it was not possible for me to play top of the table. My opponent was in good spirits, for he was a good red ball player. I managed a couple of breaks of 100 or so, but he was too far ahead and ran out a winner by over 200 points. I was a little disappointed, but resolved to do better next time.

Mr Singh, the President of the Club – if, indeed, it could be called a club – made it easier for me when he informed me that Mr Freer had defeated Bob Marshall by about the same margin when Bob had played there about two years earlier. Incidentally, Bob had told me that he had been undefeated during his tour of India, but I later learned that he had been beaten on no fewer than six occasions.

After the match with Mr Freer at Vizagapatam an odd incident occurred. I asked one of the committeemen to direct me to the toilet. He explained that there was no toilet in the club and that I would have to go down to the river. I had no alternative. It was just as well that I invariably carried a handkerchief! This experience taught me a lesson, and subsequently I never failed to carry toilet paper in my pocket. Toilet paper was almost unheard of in India, and most of the Indian population use the left hand for this purpose. Some wash their hands afterwards, but some do not. It is no wonder that the people of India claim that the left hand is unclean.

Mr Freer and I then travelled south to Cocanada, Guntar, Vizayawada and Chennapuri. As we continued our journey our performances improved, the climate being cooler and more suitable in which to play billiards, but the condition of the tables left much to be desired. My best break was 296, and I was able to defeat Mr Freer in every subsequent encounter. In all the games there had been a referee, a marker and an official calling the hazards and six ball boys (one for each pocket). This made nine officials and it soon became evident to me that there was some method behind this apparent madness. After each game I was expected to tip each official 1 rupee (about 20 cents Australian). Mr Freer was not in a position to do likewise. As my expense allowance was somewhat meager, I could see that I was going to be flat out trying to make ends meet!

During the next exhibition match at Guntar I made a very bad faux pas. The night was sticky and humid, the table very fast and the pockets slightly under standard size. Lamps had been placed under the table to help dry out the cloth. Each time I visited the table I could feel perspiration trickling down my legs – I was the only person present wearing long trousers – and I was not in a good mood. The large crowd was expecting to see some big breaks but, under the prevailing conditions, I knew this was not possible. To add to my concern, all kinds of beetles and insects kept dropping onto the table. At my first visit to the table I had reached 96 and said to myself “I’ll make 100 this time, or die”. I played a cannon to reach the red ball, which was on the brink of a pocket when a beetle fell onto the table right in the path of my cue ball and turned it at right angles away from the red ball. I thus missed the cannon and the 100 break. I exploded and cried out, “This is a black fellow’s game”. Then all at once I realised I was the only white person in the room. I forthwith apologised for my indiscretion. Later on I managed to make a break of 176 and, following some trick shots which always add lustre to an exhibition, an enjoyable evening was spent.

After the exhibition I expressed a desire for a bath as I was wringing wet with perspiration. The President of the Club thereupon invited me to his home, which proved to be a rather primitive place. When we arrived he informed me that the bath was behind the curtain and that his servant would attend to my wants. When I pulled back the curtain I was dumbfounded. I had expected to see a nice bathroom, but instead there was a large tub – the kind used to bath an infant. It was placed in the middle of a square of concrete measuring about six feet by six feet. I had to sit in this tub while the servant poured water over me from a dipper. Nearby was a kerosene tin which did service as a toilet pan.

After the “bath” the President and I sat down to dinner. It was then two o’clock in the morning. It is the custom of the Indian people to dine late, but on this occasion it was much later than usual. I was starving, but try as I would I was unable to cope with the food, which consisted of curry swamped with chilies. Too hot for my taste!

After having been in the country for only seven days I had lost 8 pounds in weight! I practically lived on bananas during this southern tour and was glad when it ended. Madras was our next venue and again I was pleased to be in a big city, with the chance of enjoying some wholesome food. I stayed at the Conomara Hotel, a beautiful white marble building constructed by the Russians in 1900. Unfortunately this great hotel had become something of a “white elephant” because of changes which had been effected in the laws relating to liquor in 1920.

In Madras I gave three exhibitions with Wilson Jones, V. Salvaraj and V. Freer. Wilson and I turned on some scintillating billiards and snooker, each making breaks of 100 and 200 odd in billiards. My highest break was 347. Salvaraj also made the odd century, but he was largely a red ball player, hence his lack of success. Nevertheless, he was a charming gentleman and companion.

The large attendance at these exhibition games was almost frightening. Many hundreds of people were turned away. Those who gained admittance were jammed into the hall, some even sitting in the rafters! The temporary seating that had been erected looked by no means safe at any time and, in fact, on the last night it collapsed. I was in the middle of compiling a break when suddenly I heard a great noise. I glanced around to see dozens of people tumbling down towards me. In a flash, I dived under the billiard table to safety. Ten spectators required hospital treatment for broken limbs. Salvaraj’s cue was smashed. He had not been able to avoid the crush, and was also taken to hospital suffering with shock. Altogether it was a terrifying experience.

Because of the great success of these exhibition games, pressure was brought to bear on me to stay a further day. However, as I had a busy itinerary ahead of me I declined, as I was required to fulfil engagements at Bangalore, Coimbatore, Trivandru, Madras and other centres. A delay would certainly have disarranged the programme. It was just as well that I refused to stay the extra day for a calamity would have befallen me.

Bangalore is the coolest part of India and the playing conditions there were somewhat similar to those in Australia. I was playing at my top and made a billiards break of 456, and later a break of 99 at snooker. In this frame I ran out of balls, which deprived me of the opportunity of reaching the coveted 100. The spectators greeted this performance with great excitement and I was “king” of Bangalore that night!

Next morning I travelled on to Trivandrum by plane, where my best break was 367. This exhibition was not as hectic as that of the previous evening and I was able to get to bed reasonably early. But, alas, a tragedy was about to occur. The following morning I was taken to the airport to meet the plane that was to take me to Coimbatore. After a wait of two hours the plane had not arrived and I returned to my hotel. By this time fears were held for the safety of the plane and during the afternoon word filtered through that the aircraft was missing. Later a replacement plane took me to Coimbatore and the evening newspapers confirmed that the other plane was missing and was believed to have crashed.

I fulfilled my engagements and returned to Madras. Eight days later the ill-fated plane was found in jungle country. The bodies of the passengers and crew had been mutilated by wild animals. If I had consented to stay a further day at Madras I would have been travelling on that plane. Such is life! It was the first air tragedy to have occurred in India for ten years.

The next portion of my tour covered New Delhi, Agra, Lucknow and Govidina. Travel to New Delhi was by train, which was by no means safe as white people were not held in the highest esteem. I was placed in a compartment alone and was told to lock myself in. It was a 12 hour journey and I hardly slept a wink. It seemed to me that beggars were constantly knocking on the carriage door shouting “Sahib! Sahib! Sahib!” They were travelling on the footboard of the carriage. It was all very disturbing to my peace of mind and I was relieved to reach my destination.

I arrived at New Delhi on Saturday, which was a free day for me, and expressed a desire to see the film “Samson and Delilah” which was showing at the time. Arrangements were promptly made for me to have a private box at the theatre. A Government car was placed at my disposal and when the driver dropped me at the theatre he asked if he could go home to see his wife and family, stating that he would pick me up after the show. I agreed, and then entered the theatre where, presumably as a precaution, I was locked into my box. However, to my dismay I discovered that the sound track of the film was in the language appropriate to that part of India, and I was unable to understand any of it!

Next morning my chauffeur was directed to take me on a tour of Old and New Delhi. I had been suffering with constipation for about three days, so I asked him to stop at a chemist’s shop so that I could obtain a laxative. I duly swallowed three tablets and continued my tour. At lunch time we returned to the hotel for a meal. As I was settling down to enjoy my lunch an acquaintance walked over to me saying “Tom, you were indeed lucky to miss the plane that crashed!”. Suddenly, I could feel the laxative working, so I said “Excuse me, but I’ll be back in a few minutes”. I had to get to my quarters about 100 yards distant and up two flights of stairs. I had a feeling that I would not make it! Just as I reached the door of my room nature took its course. I was in an awful mess and it was necessary for me to have a bath and complete change of clothing. When I eventually returned to the dining-room my acquaintance was no longer there, so I was unable to explain my apparent rudeness. Little did I know that there was a toilet about ten yards from the table at which I had been sitting!

Wilson Jones came to New Delhi to play an exhibition match at Government House. On this occasion we each performed very well, making breaks of over 300 at billiards, whilst at snooker Wilson made a break of 81 and I managed one of 79. For our efforts we were each presented with a pair of gold cuff links.

Next day we visited the Cricket Club at New Delhi, where I met the famous Duleepsinju. He was a charming person and a good billiard player. I played a friendly game with him, during which he made a break of 125. Sad to relate, he passed away about twelve months later.

I then journeyed to Agra, where I played a couple of matches in private homes and was entertained by Mr R. Singh. My real reason for passing through Agra was to see the famous Taj Mahal, one of the great wonders of the world. I stayed three days in Agra, then travelled to Lucknow. This journey was something of an ordeal. It took eighteen hours and I was required to travel by oxen cart. What a nightmare it was! At the end of the journey I was sick, sore and sorry. My joints were aching so much that I had to rest for the next 24 hours. However, I was quartered in what I was informed was the best guest house in Lucknow. It was like a gaol! It was a hut about 16 feet square, with a concrete floor, and no bed. The windows were merely openings and were fitted with iron bars. I was unable to eat the food supplied to me so bananas again became my staple diet.

By this time I had lost 14 pounds in weight and was becoming fed up with this type of living. But what could I do? I was in the heart of India and had to put up with it. I said to myself “Only three more days and I’ll be back in Calcutta!”. Although I never saw a cloud in the sky in the three months during which I was in India, I carried with me an overcoat which, on this occasion, was to prove very useful. No blankets were provided in my room so I rolled the overcoat around my shoes and thus made a pillow. I was so tired that I slept like a log, with my clothes on, and did not open my eyes until 10 o’clock the following morning. In the act of putting on my shoes I suddenly noticed a large scorpion drop out of one shoe. I was really shocked to think that I had been sleeping with that scorpion close to my head. Eventually I recovered from the whole ordeal, but was glad to leave Lucknow.

I arrived back in Calcutta on 18th December in time for the National Championship series. The Commonwealth Cricket team had also arrived for the second test match. George Tribe, Cargie Greaves and Bruce Dooland, all of whom I knew, were travelling with the team and naturally I wanted to see them. I phoned George, who made arrangements for me to meet him in the cricketers’ dressing room, where I was introduced to members of the team.

It was an extremely hot day and the visitors, who had won the toss, decided to bat. Immediately I was invited to have a drink, and I was amused to see that nearly all the players were also drinking. The team had received a donation of six dozen bottles of Dutch beer and it was being consumed with enthusiasm. Cargie was to go in to bat at fifth wicket down, and by the time he had taken his place at the crease he had had a few beers. I thought to myself, “he won’t last long out there”, but he knocked up a century in 70 minutes, then threw away his hand. George Trible also made 71. Perhaps the beer had given them Dutch courage! I spent a couple of days with this cricket team – a welcome relief from intensive billiard matches.

The National Championship was contested by a strong field, including Wilson Jones, Chandra Hirjee, M. Lafir (of Colombo), T. Salvaraj, V. Freer, myself, and a couple of players of lesser fame\. Hirjee was regarded as one of the most brilliant and entertaining players in India. In 1954 he was selected as second string to represent his country in the World Championship series contested in Sydney. He came from a wealthy family engaged in the jute business. Unfortunately, he fell foul of the taxation authorities in 1954 and was not allowed to leave the country, which cleared the way for me to compete as second string for Australia in that year. As a result, I won the World Championship Title on that occasion – but more of that later.

Salvaraj and Freer, being red ball players, were considered not to have much chance of winning, whilst it was thought that the up-and-coming Wilson Jones might be the surprise packet. With the exception of M. Lafir, who was a promising player, the remainder of the field was given little chance of winning the Title. At that time, Lafir was better known as a snooker player, but in 1967 he was runner-up to Leslie Driffield (England) in the World Amateur Billiards Championship. Lafir was gifted with a keen sense of humor. One evening in Calcutta the players decided to attend a picture theatre. Instead of travelling by rickshaw it was decided that we should walk. As most people are aware, cows throughout India are regarded as sacred animals and roam the streets at will. Naturally they leave droppings in all sorts of unexpected places. As we made our way to the theatre I accidentally put my foot in a patch of cow manure. In a flash Lafir cried, “Foul! Four Away!”.

The National Championship was eventually won by Wilson Jones. He and I played off in the final, each of us being undefeated. By this time I was “browned off” with billiards and did not produce the form expected of me. Wilson went on to win the World Title at Calcutta in 1958, and again in New Zealand in 1964. He retired at the comparatively early age of 54. The Government of India invested him with a knighthood to mark his achievements. At that time he was the only Indian to have won a World Championship in amateur sport. Later he was presented with a testimonial of 100,000 rupees – at that time the equivalent of $A20,000.

Following the National Championship series at Calcutta, the last leg of my tour took me to Bombay. I considered this very interesting and large city to be the cleanest, wealthiest and most Westernised community in India. I was provided with accommodation at the Cricket Club of Bombay – a beautiful stadium with all modern conveniences. In fact, it reminded me of the Melbourne Cricket Ground. A Mr Visinji, millionaire employer of Wilson Jones, was in charge of my stay in Bombay.

When I arrived the great festival of Bombay, which extends over ten days, was at is peak. Mr Visinji said to me “Do come and see this wonderful procession. It is something you might not see again”. Later I was introduced to the Maharajah of Burdwan, the Maharani, and many of their family, all of whom seemed to me like characters out of a fairy tale. Dressed in gorgeous saris, they were all strikingly beautiful, and they all wore magnificent jewellery during the festival. Mr Visinji informed me that even a computer could not assess the value of all the diamonds and other jewellery worn at the festival. I was dumbfounded by all the display.

The people welcomed me with open arms and made me feel at home. I attended many public and private ceremonies more breathtaking that Cecil B. de Mille ever dreamed of. The climax came when I was invited to join the Shah of Persia and his Princess in one of the cars in the procession as it made its way through the streets. At the head of the procession were the Maharaja and Maharani of Burdwan, seated in a golden howdah on the royal elephant, followed by a retinue of people of lesser importance, but all looking resplendent in their trappings, with beautiful hand-painted designs on their foreheads. It seemed as if we were passing through a sea of dark faces, with waves going back as far as the horizon. Many people also were heightened further when daylight faded and the procession continued by torchlight. When later I thanked the Shah for the privileged position from which I had witnessed the procession, he remarked, “Oh! I do like to meet strangers”.

My programme for my six days stay in Bombay was: rise at 7.00am, take a bath, followed by breakfast comprised of toast, jam and a cup of black tea. Other food was available, but I was in no mood for anything more substantial. On arrival in India I had been somewhat overweight, but by the time I reached Bombay I had lost 18 pounds and I was feeling much fitter.

There was a good billiard table at the Cricket Club and after breakfast I would practice for about two hours. At midday a car would pick me up and take me on my way for exhibitions – perhaps two in the afternoon and one in the evening. During my short stay in Bombay I played 21 exhibition matches and was undefeated. Strange to relate, Wilson Jones was never selected to play against me, for what reason I do not know. The only conclusion I could arrive at was that the Indian authorities did not wish to risk him being defeated. I was playing at the top of my form and consistently had made breaks of over 200, and three breaks of over 400. However, my tour was a great success and the Association profited by many thousands of rupees.

During my stay in Calcutta I was fortunate to make the acquaintance of Princess Toy and her brother, Prince Sonu, as well as their mother, the Begum, all of whom were associated with the Indian Billiards Control Council. They treated me with great kindness and on many occasions invited me to their home. In appreciation of our happy times together the Begum presented me with five lovely diamonds. So much did I value this gift that I kept the diamonds constantly in my possession, even sleeping with them under my pillow. I wrote home to my wife telling her that I would bring her back some beautiful diamonds, something she had always wanted, especially from India.

Somoneith (Sam) Banerjee’s father at this time asked me if I would assist his son with his billiards with a little coaching. I readily agreed, whereupon a car was placed at my disposal each morning for one week so that I could travel to and from Sam’s home, where there was a billiard table. Sam was an apt pupil and my coaching enabled him to improve his game considerably. In appreciation of my efforts for Sam, Mr Banerjee presented me with a suit length, and asked me if I would like anything else. I told him I was satisfied with the cloth, but he remarked, “Surely that is not sufficient” and insisted that I name something else. I told him that I had been given some precious stones and that perhaps a gold ring might make a suitable mounting for one of the stones. He immediately ordered a chaffeur to take me to a jeweller, with whom I made arrangements to mount one of the diamonds on a ring. Two days later the finished ring and the remainder of the diamonds were returned to me at my hotel.

When I arrived back in Australia my wife was anxious to see these jewels. When they were shown to her she said, “I don’t believe they are diamonds, Tom, although they shine like diamonds”. Soon afterwards she took them to a prominent Melbourne jeweller to have them valued, to be informed that they were plain glass and virtually valueless. To this day I do not know whether the “diamonds” were switched by the jeweller. I would not be surprised if this had occurred, as sharp practices of this nature are not entirely unknown. Such was another sad experience for me in India.

The 1954 World Amateur Billiards Championship

Upon my return home from England in 1951 Walter Lindrum phoned to congratulate me on finishing third in the World Championship that year. He suggested that I take a break of three months from the game and I took his advice. When I resumed playing I noted that my form was better than ever. I found that consistently I was making breaks of 300 and 400 – and even an occasional 500. At the time I was employed by Mr Charles Allen, a leading snooker bookmaker and a member of the Victorian Club in Melbourne. I practiced mainly at that club and two of its members, Darcy Eccles and Bill Bailey, both great players, took a keen interest in me. Both saw to it that I worked hard, and it was nothing for me to practice four to five hours a day.

In 1954 I ran up breaks of 684 and 735 – two of my highest breaks – which were made mostly at the top of the table, with a few runs of nursery cannons. It was at this stage that I asked Walter Lindrum for some hints on these close cannons. I felt that if I were to become proficient at nursery cannons a break of 1000 would not be beyond me. Walter promised to help, but unfortunately, and to my bitter disappointment, he never came to the party. On three occasions he invited me to his home at Albert Park, but each time he put me off, making the excuse that he was too busy. To be quite fair to the “master”, I really do not think he could impart to others his knowledge of the mysteries of nursery cannons, or for that matter any other phase of the game. He was a supreme player and so far ahead of others in the game of billiards that I am afraid he did not know where to commence teaching, but I am sure he would have liked to help me.

I do not know of any other player who was helped directly by Walter. In latter years Jim Long was very friendly with him, and I know that Walter showed him a couple of comparatively simple moves. Many people may disagree with me on this point and I ask them to forgive me for expressing my personal opinion on a small aspect of the make-up and personality of the greatest billiard player the world has ever known.

The World Amateur Championship series for 1954 were staged in Sydney. Shortly before these games were to commence Bob Marshall had defeated me for the Australian Title in Launceston in a very tight game. For three sessions we were almost dead level, but in the last two hours Bob was too good for me and ran out the winner by the comparatively narrow margin of 202 points. The World Championship was to be contested in Sydney in the following month and Bob was automatically selected to represent Australia. Chandra Hirjee had also been selected to compete in this event as second string to Wilson Jones, representing India. However, Hirjee was unable to make the trip at the last moment and I was invited to compete in his stead.

The games were staged in the Anthony Horden Pavilion at the Sydney Showgrounds and were played on Walter Lindrum’s table. This was good news for me as I was aware that the cushions were fitted with strip rubber and I had learned the game on tables fitted with that type of cushion. This news filled me with confidence. The competitors for the Title included Bob Marshall (Australia), Frank Edwards (England), Wilson Jones (India), and Taffy Rees (South Africa). My first opponent was Frank Edwards. I immediately got away with a break of 156, but Frank countered with a 127. Then I managed 216, followed by 287. I was in my element with the soft strip rubber cushions, and at the end of the first session was leading by 457. On the home run I ran out a winner by 760 points. To dispose of such a fine player a Edwards was a great start for me.

The great Bob Marshall was my next opponent. I was quietly fancied in this match as I had been performing well at practice. The bookmakers were wagering rather heavily on this game. Bob commenced in great form and at the half way mark led by 261. The position looked bad for me, but I was still confident. In the second session I really struck form. At the commencement of this session I was in play with 56 unfinished, which I took to 286. A little later I followed with a 267, then a 367. Eventually I won the match by 605 points.

At this stage I had defeated two great exponents of the game and naturally I was in high spirits. However, I could not afford to be overconfident as I still had to meet Rees and Jones. In my match against Rees I made the best break of my career in championship billiards by compiling 682, which still stands as the highest break made in an Amateur World Championship series. In this match I was an easy winner.

To win the Title I then had to face Wilson Jones. Naturally I was a little nervous, particularly as Jones had nothing to lose. He had won only one match in the series and therefore was under no strain. After the first hour of play he led by 250. I said to myself, “don’t panic, but play billiards”. This I proceeded to do with breaks of 186, 240 and 299, as well as sundry breaks just over 100. The result of the match was in my favour, 1810 to 1498. Although a great player, Wilson Jones could not strike form in Australia. He visited Australia on three occasions, but never once did he play really well. Change in climatic conditions appear to affect the performance of many players.

I was greatly relieved and, of course, excited when that match was over. I had won my first and only World Championship. It was the highlight of my billiards career. I was 44 years of age at the time and felt that my success was the result of years of hard and earnest practice, as well as keeping myself fit and retaining good health over the years. The other competitors in that Championship Series were all about the same age as myself, which perhaps proves that it takes a good part of a lifetime to reach the top in billiards. Therefore I stress to young and promising players that they cannot expect to master the wonderful game in five minutes – or even ten years! It took many years for the greatest snooker player of all time – Joe Davis – to make the highest possible break of 147 at snooker in championship games. This occurred on the evening of his retirement in a match against John Pulman at Leicester Hall, London. Afterwards Joe remarked, “Fancy! I have been playing snooker all my life and no one knows how much work I have put in behind the scenes. It has taken me all this time to achieve the almost impossible in a championship match. It is like the tip of a cue – at its best when it is finished”.

Lindrum and Davis

Many snooker enthusiasts have raised with me the question: If Walter Lindrum had concentrated on snooker, would he have proved a greater player than Joe Davis? In my humble opinion, I do not believe that he would have done so. Walter had a round arm unorthodox cue action and nearly every stroke he played was made with spin, which allowed for a small margin of error. However, when potting the balls in snooker there is no margin of error – the player has to make his shot in a very deliberate manner. The cue action must flow freely and the arm should operate in the nature of a piston inside a cylinder – with great exactness.

During my visit to England in 1951 I recall talking to Joe Davis on this point. Joe considered that Walter was not a good business man. By way of explanation, he went on to explain thus: “At a billiards match played in Melbourne in the 1930′s, in mid-winter, Walter and I prepared to commence the game. Naturally we had each removed our coats. Walter broke and played out the session with a break of 4,127. Half way through the session I had to slip into my coat again because of the cold”. Joe went on to say that he considered that spectators attended a match to see both players in action, but Walter was so good that he did not know how to break down! He was so much like a billiards machine that very often the onlookers were almost unaware of his genius. By playing in this machine-like manner for long periods, Walter diminished his earning power.

Joe said that he gave this matter great thought and when he returned to England he decided to concentrate on snooker, in which game the spectators are treated to the skill of both players at short intervals. As a result, Joe became the greatest snooker player of all time – indeed, he retired from the game a rich man. Unfortunately, in spite of his great ability at billiards, Walter did not do likewise. However, the great “master” was generous man and it was nothing for him to give a billiard table to a worthy cause. At one time, he presented me with a table and all accessories to match it. Walter did not seem to care about wealth – all he wanted to do was play billiards and demonstrate his skill to the people. Walter badly needed an experienced person to manage his billiards activities. For a time the late Jack Rohan acted in this capacity with some success.

The 1958 World Amateur Billiards Championship

In 1958 India was the venue for the next World Championship series and I was to defend my Title there. My wife had never before had the pleasure of travelling with me on an overseas trip and I thought that if on this occasion she could accompany me it would be a wonderful experience for her. With the assistance of some good friends, her trip was made possible. Leslie Driffield’s wife also made the trip from England so my wife was in good company. On this occasion, Claude Harris, President of the Australian Amateur Billiards Association, also made the trip. Claude thoroughly deserved this privilege as for many years he had carried out a tremendous amount of work on the administrative side of the game.

We arrived at Calcutta in mid-November, to be met by officials of the India Billiards Association, and were given a warm welcome. The seven contestants for the Title were: Leslie Driffield, Wilson Jones, Chandra Hirjee, Rafik Dina, Mahomed Lafir, V. Freer and myself. Driffield, Jones, Hirjee and I were named the “big four” and after the earlier games had been played, w were left to fight it out. As all four players were in good form it was difficult to pick the winner.

Hirjee and Jones met in the first encounter and spectators were treated to some brilliant billiards, each player making numerous breaks of over 100. Hirjee then made a break of 246, which was quickly followed by 306 from Jones. On the billiard table no love was lost between these two players. They were keen rivals and were fighting to see who was India’s best player. At the first interval there was little between them, but Jones eventually ran out the winner by 260.

The next match was between myself and Hirjee. I at once struck brilliant form and made consecutive breaks of 190, 239 and 346. This burst seemed to demoralize Hirjee, and although he made two fine breaks of 165 and 176 in the second session, I was a comfortable winner by a margin of 960.

Wilson Jones was next in line for me. I knew that I would have to play at my top, as Jones had been displaying brilliant form in both matches and at practice. In the first hour of this match I ran up a handy lead with useful breaks of 165 and 158, but Jones fought back with a beautifully compiled break of 345. At the end of the first session the scores were almost level. Unfortunately for me, a tropical storm broke over Calcutta at 5.00pm that day. This was unusual as rain like this had not fallen in December for about fifteen years. The result was that the atmosphere became very humid. My cue would not slide properly through my bridge, making it difficult for me to play good billiards. Jones was not similarly affected. Like other Indians, Jones skin was hard and as dry as a bone. I was at a disadvantage, whilst he was in his element, playing as if nothing unusual had happened. He made further breaks of 186, 269 and several over 100 and won the match by over 500 points.

At that stage, Jones was undefeated, but still had to play Leslie Driffield. I also had to play Leslie. If I beat him and he defeated Jones, it would result in a three-way tie. I felt that I still had a fighting chance, but it was not to be. My match with Driffield was a thriller, but he defeated me by the small margin of 135 points. I thought I had him beaten right up until the last 20 minutes, when I was leading by 54. At that stage I had two shots “on”. Driffield’s ball was on the brink of the top left-hand pocket and at the same time there was an easy in-off the red ball. Should I pot him and play safety, or should I continue to play the red ball? By doing so I felt that the minutes would tick away and my score would steadily increase.

I got in-off the red ball and left myself with a perfect position for an in-off into the centre pocket. I told myself the game was mine! After scoring nine points I shaped up for my next shot. However, in my excitement and to my complete disgust I fouled the cue ball. I could scarcely believe it! The balls were then in an easy position for Driffield to score a cannon and, playing like a bulldog, he ran to 203 unfinished, thus winning the game. It was a great disappointment to me. I felt that I had had the game won, only to lose it by sheer carelessness. I just had to accept the situation as best I could. Thus ended all my hopes of winning that Title.

The final looked promising for a great game between Wilson Jones, the idol of India, and Leslie Driffield, the dour Englishman. Leslie was not very popular with the crowds in India and no doubt that feeling extended back to the days of Great Britain’s influence in India. However, the two players commenced their match in brilliant form. At the end of the first hour of play the scores were level at 340, each player having contributed two breaks over 100. At the end of the second hour the scores were: Driffield 880, Jones 757. The second session was played in much the same fashion, with Driffield leading by 312. In the third session Driffield went steadily ahead to increase his lead to 450.

In the first hour of the final session when Driffield was leading by 600 and looked a certain winner a startling change came over the game. Jones made a fighting 240 break. Driffield then missed an easy shot, to let Jones in for another nice run of 199. By this time the excitement was intense. The crowd was favouring Jones in no uncertain manner. At this stage, each time Driffield visited the table the crowd commenced to chant and hand-clap. They refused to stop when requested. These outbursts were uncalled for and Leslie became very annoyed. He turned to the crowd and appeared, “what have I done to deserve this”? This only incited the crowd to even worse behaviour and pandemonium reigned. In all the excitement Leslie broken down and cried.

It was ten minutes before the crowd quietened down to allow the match to continue. Leslie had put away his cue, threatening to forfeit the match. I went over to him and made an effort to comfort him, but he said “I am finished. I’ll never come to India again”. I said “Don’t forfeit, Leslie. Don’t take any notice of the crowd. You can still win the championship. You are in front, so don’t throw it away”. I then took his cue from its case and handed it to him. After he had received a nod from his wife, he continued to play. At that stage he was 90 points ahead, with 20 minutes left for play. However, it was obvious that the demonstration had upset him and he was shaking like a leaf. Poor Leslie could not get a shot, and Wilson Jones went on to win by 105 points. It was a sad ending to a wonderful Championship Series. Leslie Driffield left India next day.

The Indian National Billiards Championship

Wilson Jones, who hailed from Bombay, became a national hero and his employer, Mr Visinji, invited my wife and me to visit that city. After three days of celebration at Calcutta we arrived at Bombay amid great excitement. We were met at Santa Cruz airport by dozens of Government officials, Mr Visinji and his family and many notable sporting personalities. A great fleet of limousines was made available to drive us all through the streets of Bombay. Nearly every thoroughfare was decorated with bunting and thousands of people thronged the streets. It was as if the President of the United States of America was arriving.

After a drive through the city lasting about two hours, we arrived at Mr Visinji’s home to attend a banquet in honour of Wilson Jones’ victory. After a wonderful evening, Mrs Cleary and I were driven to the Bombay Cricket Club – the famous Brabourne Stadium – which was to be our home for the next seven days. Although playing billiards was not the purpose of my visit to Bombay, I was asked to give several exhibitions. I played on about ten occasions, but not once was Wilson Jones asked to play. At the conclusion of this visit, Mr Visinji presented me with a beautiful handwoven tablecloth. It had been hand sewn with hundreds of little mirrors interwoven. It was a beautiful piece of work and is still in use in my home.

At the end of my stay in Bombay I, and Mrs Cleary, were given a send-off at the Palace at the Shah of Persia. This was a magnificent building constructed of white marble. The Shah only occupied the Palace on occasional visits to Bombay, but it must have cost an enormous amount of money to maintain the Palace as twenty servants were constantly employed there. Such is wealth! The proceedings commenced with an Indian luncheon served in the banquet room. About forty people were present, including some of the wealthiest residents of Bombay. No cutlery or crockery is provided to eat an Indian meal – one has to manipulate the food to the mouth with the thumb and first two fingers. The table setting provided each guest with a large banana leaf, about 24 inches in diameter. This was used as a plate and all food comprising the various courses was laid out on the banana leaf.

The main course was a mutton stew, flavoured with chilies, which was considered to be a great luxury, but it was almost impossible to eat it. Too add to my discomfort, I was extremely thirsty because of the heat, but the only beverage I felt it safe to drink was a soft drink served from a bottle. In Bombay at that time it was not possible to obtain beer or spirits as the State was subject to liquor laws which prevent the consumption of alcoholic drinks. I asked for a glass of lemonade and eventually, when I was feeling particularly parched, it was served to me. However, before I had time to take even a sip, the servant attending me accidentally dropped some food into the glass and thereupon removed it. I had to wait about half an hour before I was served with another glass of lemonade, and by that time the highly flavoured food had made me very thirsty indeed. Although Mrs Cleary was quite hungry, she was unable to eat the food. She neatly folded the banana leaf around the food and explained to the servant that she could not eat because she had had a meal shortly before. In a foreign land such as India it is very difficult for the Westerner to fit in with the eating habits of the local people who, incidentally were always most hospitable and almost overwhelming with their kindness.

After leaving Bombay I journeyed to Madras, where previously I had been approached by the Madras Billiards Association officials by means of a somewhat flattering reception, accompanied by garlands of flowers for Mrs Cleary. There was a purpose behind this cordial welcome as they wished me to play in the National Billiards and Snooker Championships which were to be held at Madras following the World Amateur Billiards Championship to be conducted at Calcutta. The officials were well aware that my entry in these events would be an additional draw card towards attracting spectators, as at the time of the invitation I was the reigning World Champion. This interlude meant a further stay of 21 days in India, and as my wife had not seen Madras I decided to accept the invitation to play in the “Nationals”, as they are called. However, I informed the Madras billiards officials that I would compete only under certain conditions:

1. That first-class accommodation was provided for me and my wife.
2. That I be granted an allowance of £3 a day.
3. That I be provided with two plane tickets from Calcutta to Madras.

Upon arriving at Madras after the completion of the world’s championship series at Calcutta we were driven to the Air Lines Hotel, where we were provided with second-class accommodation – not at the beautiful Conamara Hotel which I had hoped for. I immediately contacted Mr Nardu, Secretary of the Madras Billiards Association who informed me that he had been unable to obtain accommodation at the Conamara. Later I discovered that his was not true. I had become very friendly with Sam Banerjee, of Calcutta, who was a competitor at Madras and who was staying at the Conamara at his own expense. He informed me that there were plenty of vacancies at that hotel – so the first condition I had imposed on the Madras officials was not met. Sam came from a very wealthy family and at this time was a considerable help to me. As he was about to leave the Conamara Hotel each morning on his way to practice he would phone me and arrange to pick me up in his taxi outside my hotel, thus saving me some little expense.

At the time of our visit to Madras it so happened that Marshall Tito was also visiting that city. One morning, when my wife and I were waiting outside the hotel for Sam to pick us up, there emerged from the crowd in the streets two young girls, no more than 19 years of age, who came up to us and shouted “You imperialist pigs!” and then spat in our faces. My wife was angry and wanted to remonstrate with the girls, but I immediately ushered her into the hotel. We felt that the insult was unwarranted, but no doubt all white people fell into the same category so far as the girls were concerned. However, my wife was extremely upset by the incident and, on the following day, became very ill with a high temperature. The manageress of the hotel called in a doctor and eventually engaged a nurse who scarcely left my wife’s side for three days. After about ten days Mrs Cleary’s temperature returned to normal and she slowly regained her health.

On another occasion when Sam Banerjee called at my hotel to pick me up I recall noticing six very well-built young men pulling along the road a dray carrying a load of jute. I remarked to Sam, “They do it the hard way here”. He replied “How much money do you think they earn?” He then continued, “In your money it is eight pence per day. Why, a traffic policeman only received eighteen pence a day”. Such is life in India!

Before the National Championships I practiced for one hour each morning at 8 o’clock. At several of these practice sessions I noticed in the audience an attractive young girl who seemed to be very interested in what I was doing on the table. One morning when a suitable opportunity presented itself she politely asked me if I gave coaching lessons, to which I replied “do you play?” She said “I mainly play snooker, but have made a break of 82 at billiards, also a 59 at snooker”. I was mildly astonished at this and invited her to play a few shots on the table. Thereupon she produced her own cue and proceeded to play billiards. A set of snooker balls was then produced and I placed the coloured balls on their respective spots. From in hand she then potted the six colours. Her stance, bridge and cue action were well nigh perfect, in the style of Joe Davis. I enquired how much practice she was able to get, and she replied “not as much as I would like. It is hard to get a game as there is not much opportunity here for girls to play”. She went on to explain that her father owned a billiard table, but after his death it had been sold.

It is interesting to contemplate what effect an outstanding woman player would have in the field of male competition in both billiards and snooker today. However, I venture to say that if this girl, whose name was A. Kamala Devi, could have been given suitable coaching she would have defeated British women players, including Joyce Gardner and others equally well known. Later I discovered that this girl was an actress and entertainer who performed on All-India Radio. On one occasion she took my wife and I on a visit to the radio station where she played for us a number of her recordings. Unfortunately, I have not heard of her since that time. Perhaps she gave up playing billiards and snooker because of lack of opportunity and encouragement.

The National Snooker Championship was to follow the Billiards Championship and competitors included Wilson Jones, who had just won the world’s Amateur Billiards Title, and Rafik Dina, both of whom represented Bombay. Other competitors were Sam Banerjee, from Calcutta, T. Salvaraj and V. Freer, from Madras, Mohamad Lafir, from Ceylon, and myself. Wilson Jones and I were seeded No. 1 and 2 in the billiards series, the other competitors not being given much chance of success – and thus it was proved. However, my semi-final match with Salvaraj was a thriller. Between the illness of my wife and the constant demands made upon me to play billiards I had become a little “browned-off”, and was not producing my best form in the match. Although Madras was a “dry” area, the President of the Billiards Association conveyed a message to me asking if I would like a “reviver”. It was apparent that the officials wanted me to appear in the Final against Wilson Jones, as that would ensure a good attendance. Within a couple of minutes of my indicating that I would like a drink I had passed to me a soft drink bottled containing whisky and water. The spectators naturally thought the bottle contained a non-alcoholic beverage, but after a couple of nips I felt like a new man. Soon afterwards I compiled a break of 373, which enable me to win the match.

In the meantime, Wilson Jones had won his way into the Final, but to my dismay he suddenly reported that he was ill, and announced that he was unable to play in the Final. Immediately the officials were in a state of panic. They were hoping for a full house and a good gate for the final match. The doctor who attended my wife during her illness was called to examine Wilson Jones, and he later confided to me that, in his opinion, Jones was not ill. After persuasion from the officials, Jones eventually consented to play, but he performed as though he were a sick man. Eventually I defeated him in the Final by over 500 points, thus winning the All-India Amateur Billiards Title.

The snooker championship series followed immediately, the same players taking part. After some excellent snooker from all players, I made the Final to meet M. Lafir, of Ceylon. The match was of seven frames, to be won by Lafir in the last frame when he potted the pink ball. I made the best break of the series with an 83. It proved a successful championship series for me as I won four of the five trophies contested – the All-India Billiards Title, Highest Billiards Break of 373, Runner-up in the Snooker Title and Highest Snooker Break of 83. These trophies are still displayed in my trophy cabinet at my home, together with many others I have won over the years.

A tour of Ceylon

A late invitation was extended to me by the Ceylon Billiards Association to make an eight-day tour of the island, giving exhibitions and lectures on billiards and snooker. As it was on my way home and as I had heard a lot about Ceylon, I accepted the invitation with the provision that first-class accommodation be provided, my friends in Bombay having informed me of living conditions on the island. I received a reply to the effect that my wishes would be complied with and that we were to stay at the Galle Face Hotel – a first-class hotel but which provided air-conditioning to VIPs only. Fortunately, we were classed as VIP. The hotel was famous for its European food, especially Australian beef, and naturally my first request was for some Australian steak. This was the best meal enjoyed by my wife and me since we had left Australia three months previously. Our stay at the Galle Face Hotel was almost too good to be true.

After three days of lectures and exhibitions in poor conditions, we left for Kandy and Nuralia, a journey of some 100 miles. We stopped overnight at Kandy, where I was scheduled to play an exhibition match. The table with which I was confronted was a “shocker”. It had so many uneven surfaces that it seemed like a scrubbing board! However, I managed to make a break of 100, but I was like making 500 on a good table.

We then journeyed to Nuralia. This trip was the worst that I encountered during the tour. The roads were in a terrible state, ascending steep hills and winding around elbow bends. When we arrived at our destination, I was too ill to play that evening. Next day I felt refreshed, for at least Nuralia had a cool climate.

I played at the Kenya Club and among the crowd was a fair sprinkling of Europeans. The table was excellent and the conditions to my liking, there being no humidity. My opponent was the local champion, who had a big reputation – hence the large attendance. Unfortunately, he struck me at my best. The game was 600 up, and at the finish the score board read: Cleary: 600, Nankeo: 69. I rounded off the game with 369 unfinished. We then played the best of three frames of snooker. Nankeo won the first frame and I won the other two. In the last frame I ran out of balls with a 98 break, which gave the crowd much pleasure. After these exhibition games came further entertainment. A four-piece orchestra went into action, with food and drink in plentiful supply, although my wife and I carefully by-passed the Indian food. The entertainment concluded at 4.00am. Ceylon is noted for its tea plantations and one gentleman told me that he would forward a chest of tea to me in Australia. I am still awaiting the arrival of the tea!

Next morning the trip to Colombo was a nightmare. Travelling down hill was worse than going up. It was like an Indian told me, “An elephant will catch you travelling uphill if he wants to, but he hasn’t a chance downhill”. We were relieved to reach Colombo, but a shock was in store for us. Instead of taking us to the Galle Face Hotel, our driver delivered us to a third class hotel, and informed us that we were to stay there for the remainder of our visit. My wife and I were furious and immediately protested. The driver said that it was the President’s instruction. I said, you get in touch with the President and tell him it’s the Galle Face or nothing”. After two hours on the telephone, he received permission to take us to the Galle Face Hotel, but we were given a room with no air-conditioning.

This was too much and I refused to give any further exhibitions. I then got in touch with BOAC seeking a return booking to Australia, although three more days of my tour remained. The booking clerk at BOAC stated it was impossible to get me an immediate booking, but when three pounds sterling was placed in his hand, he said he would give us the first cancellation. Next morning, we were on our way back to Australia.

The 1964 and 1967 World Amateur Billiards Championships

Although I retained my form during the ensuing years, I found that the continued strain of competition matches and many years of hard training, together with the fact that I had achieved the world’s highest honour for an amateur player, was affecting my keenness and my eyesight was starting to fail.

By 1964 Jim Long, who had been improving all the time, had caught up with me. In that year he won the Australian Championship and became eligible to represent Australia in the World Title event to be contested in New Zealand. Unfortunately for Jim, he was unable to make the trip because of pressure of business, and I was sent in his stead. This was my seventh appearance in world championship matches. This series was won by Wilson Jones, who defeated Jack Karneham of England, I finished fourth, but never at any stage reached top form.

In 1967 I won my twentieth Victorian Amateur Billiards Title. And then announced my retirement. However, many friends persuaded me to change my mind and I continued to play, but again Jim Long proved too good for me and defeated me in the Australian Championship in 1967. At this time Jim was available to travel to Colombo for the World Championship. However, a prominent Sydney businessman and a good friend of mine, Mr Keith Lord, offered to sponsor me to Colombo if permission could be obtained from the Australian Amateur Billiards Association to allow me to make the trip. The Association was agreeable, and I am indeed grateful to the Association and to Mr Lord for his generosity and kindness. So far as I am aware, no other private individual has ever sponsored an Australian Amateur Billiards Player on an overseas trip to contest a World Championship Series.

On this occasion, Jim Long was Australia’s Official Representative and I was the second string. I told Jim that we would find it difficult to win in Ceylon because of the climatic conditions. Jim dearly loves the cold weather and the strip rubber cushions. After all, billiards is a winter game and it is difficult for many players when the World Championship is contested in a country that has a hot climate. I venture to say that Jim and I were the two most knowledgeable players in this series, but because of the climatic conditions we were unable to exploit our style of top of the table play and had to revert to all round billiards. To add to our discomfort, we had to resort to using gloves in an endeavour to combat the problem of perspiration. Needless to say, we were both unplaced.

Leslie Driffield eventually ran out the winner. He proved just too good for the opposition, with his painfully slow all round billiards. I am sure that he did it on purpose to upset his opponents. On one occasion he took 47 minutes to make a 371 break, although in the prevailing conditions it was a good effort. M. Lafir, of Ceylon was runner-up, but he would not have come within reach of the first ten players in Australia. So much for the 1967 World Championship Series. Nevertheless, we met many kind and hospitable people who, after all, are not to blame because their climate is not conducive to good billiards.

Late in 1968, I suffered a severe illness, with the result that I lost the use of my right arm. However, excellent medical treatment and therapy have enabled me to recover my health, but my touch is not the same; thus my competitive billiards life has come to an end. It has been with great sadness and regret that I have had to leave the competition side of the game, which enabled me to make so many wonderful friends, both among my opponents and the many followers of the game. Early in my billiards career I entertained three main ambitions: Firstly, to visit England, the home of billiards; secondly, to win a world championship; and thirdly; to make a break of 1000. I managed to achieve the first two, but to my lasting regret my third objective has eluded me.