Temperament matters in many things, but there is, probably, nothing in which it matters more than in billiard playing. And it may remain a puzzle throughout the ages why even the philosophical temperament, which is proof against most things, seems to give way, and even go to pieces, during a 250 up. Men who, after being shot violently out of an aeroplane and severely shaken, are found cheerfully lighting a cigarette, do the same thing through sheer vexation of spirit and to stifle the welling up of strong language when making a miscue.
Tell a strong man of affairs that his place of business is on fire, and he quietly replies that he will be along presently; let him receive in his post an intimation, on paper of a blueish tint, that a firm looming somewhat largely on the debtor side of his ledger is calling its creditors together, and he merely lifts his eyebrows and passes on to the next paper on the pile; but let a promising break at billiards be spoilt by an untimely kiss, or, far worse, let his opponent be sailing along by the mixed aid of luck and flukes while he can do nothing right, and this life with all its alluring joys and compensations, seems to offer no further attraction- to him.
There is really a study here in the human disposition that might be worthy the attention of some subtle and experienced analyst of the emotions. How is it that material things often agitate men but slightly whereas trifling things disturb them sensibly. There are men, for example, who can stand anything in the course of business except what has happily been termed "cussedness." The manager or foreman comes up and says there has been a serious machinery accident or collapse and practically the. only emotion that enters the employer's mind and that finds expression in his first question is: "Has anyone been hurt?" Reassured on this point he will say: "Well, what arrangements are you making? Let that same employer give a carefully-considered direction on some comparatively minor matter and find that an employee, choosing to substitute his own notions— perhaps with the best intentions— has bungled the business, although no essential loss or harm has accrued, and the employer, for the time being, will feel positively ill. It is the bare" cussedness "of the thing that annoys; and that is where the well-laid little schemes of the striker at the billiard table so often" gang aglee."
The real person that the player who can do nothing right is annoyed with—vexed at almost past endurance—is himself.
It is not the fact that he is losing the game that annoys him. The prime and outstanding cause of irritation is his own play. He knows that he is not playing his real game and he knows that he is himself alone to blame for it. Just now he had a decent opening, and there were two ways of dealing with it. He could get immediate position with one difficult shot, if successful, or with two or three easy shots, either of which would be difficult to miss. He chooses the more spectacular and difficult shot, breaks down, retires, and silently fumes. Or he is slightly overreached and the marker makes a movement with the rest.
No; he will try it as it is. The stroke is missed or muddled and several more valuable ounces of equable temperament evaporate.
By the adversary these unmistakable signs of temperamental deterioration are noted with suppressed glee, and when, in due course, he finds that the ball is being "chucked"back to him from a pocket instead of being gently rolled, he does not resent the roughish treatment to which it is subjected in the least. He feels that he has the game in the hollow of his hand, and his strokes develop a deadliness and confidence that are increasingly noticeable.
How is the now demoralized player to pull himself together? The cigarette will not alone do it, nor even a whisky and soda. All that is needed is a little Common sense, a stern self-repression, and a return to normal temperament.
But the" other fellow "is getting all the leaves! He is getting exactly what is left to him by half confident and inexact play. But he is having all the luck!
There is no such thing as luck in billiards, in which lost and safe balls, kisses, and covers should be foreseen and provided against. But he is scoring half his points from flukes! Then he is hitting hard and is to be pulled up and cooled down by a gentle position shot and a nice sustained sequence.
In brief, if success is to be achieved in billiards the temperament must be controlled. This applies both to the too confident and the too-easily-depressed temperament. Many a commanding lead has been lost by players who have presumed upon their advantage and many a game might have been won against odds by ignoring the score board, taking no unnecessary risks, and carefully utilizing all chances.
Even when, in an ordinary 100 up, 99 to 50 is called, the game need not be given up. Players sometimes go to pieces with only a single point to make and the steady player who has full command of himself creeps steadily up, under these circumstances, with tens and twelves, and, perhaps, a twenty or more, until he has the pleasure of hearing the marker call" game "to him.
Perhaps two of the best pieces of advice that, apart from execution, can be given to billiard players are: (1) When you have the lead take care to keep it, and (2) When you are behind never cease trying, for there is no end to the surprises that occur in billiards.