The question as to whether the number of consecutive in-offs— the red being the object-ball in each stroke—should be limited has been discussed a good deal of late. While Gray fails to win championship honours, in all probability we shall hear very little more of it; should he, however, be successful, still greater prominence will most likely be given to it.
Those who argue that the number of consecutive red ball in-offs should be limited, base their contention on two particular reasons, viz.: Firstly, that it is against the best interests of the game that huge breaks should be made off one ball, since spectators quickly weary of monotony, and would soon cease to attend matches wherein the billiard fate likely to be offered is the perfection of one particular stroke and nothing else. Secondly, that as spot-stroke play, which was perfectly legitimate billiards, was rendered impossible by an alteration in the rules so soon as the public became tired of its sameness, there is a precedent for killing the in-off game, or at least limiting the number of consecutive strokes to a pocket.
So much for one side of the question. Now for the other. Spot-stroke play became monotonous and at last, after years, though, ceased to attract the public because all the leading players of the days when it held sway were proficient at it to a most extraordinary degree. Speaking from memory, at least half-a-dozen players, viz., Peall, Mitchell, Dawson, North, Taylor, and White, made four figure breaks by its means, some of them very often—Peall at least forty times, including his record break of 3,304 and quite a number of others over 2,000. In addition to the above mentioned players there were several others, including John Roberts, who, if they did not quite reach the thousand by spot-stroke play, often got appreciably near it. In the old days, therefore, the leading players, when pitted against one another, offered the public exactly the same fare, until the public came to the conclusion that it had had quite enough of it. Thus, the spot-stroke died a natural death, unlamented even by the professionals themselves. Its abolition inflicted no particular hardship on any one player since so many were adepts at it.
The case is vastly different with the in-off game as perfected by Gray. As yet the public is not tired of Gray.
Proof of this is shown by the good assemblies which always gather to watch his play. Besides, unless Gray monopolizes the table for the whole or the greater part of a session—and in this case the spectators watch the compilation of a big break, a thing that always appeals to them—variety is afforded by his opponent's play. As these lines are being penned the first heat for the championship—Reece v. Gray— has been in progress two days, and, whatever its result, spectators will have witnessed perfection of play at two totally different branches of the game.
Time enough to talk about limiting the in-off game when Gray ceases to draw the public. In all probability Gray himself will curtail his in-offs and play a more varied game when he finds that the public has seen his ball enter a centre pocket about as often as it wants to. After all, billiards is Gray's living, and should he be so unwise as to allow the time to come when the public no longer wants to see him, he will naturally also find that no professional wants a match with him.
To my mind, however, the thing which is most abhorrent in the suggestion of limiting red-ball play— quite apart from the unwisdom of tampering with the rules of the game oftener than is absolutely necessary—is the gross injustice which this limitation would inflict upon one player. As already staled, the abolition of the spot stroke inflicted no particular hardship on any single player, since all the leading professionals of the day compiled their huge breaks almost entirely by its means. Legislation, however, which clearly has for its object the suppression of the game of one player only, would be grossly unjust—even cruel. Is it nothing that Gray devoted so many years of his boyhood to the perfection of his particular play? Is it fair to suggest that he should be ruthlessly despoiled of the fruits of his incessant labour just because, in the past, going all out and hiding nothing, he ran away from the pick of our English professionals.
To-day Inman and Stevenson suggest that the red-ball game should be limited to twenty-five or thirty-three consecutive in-offs. But no one ever heard of Inman making such a suggestion when he was the in-off expert and when people flocked to see him play in the hope of seeing him make from two to three hundred off the red. Stevenson, too, has exceeded three hundred off the red on more than one occasion, but he never even hinted at curtailing this method of play until Gray came and showed us that breaks of a few hundred off one ball were unconsidered little trifles with him—mere feelers, as it were, to vastly bigger breaks.
Is it sportsmanlike on the part of two of our leading English players to seek to deprive Gray of the fruits of his so hardly won skill. I have heard it stated that their suggestions savour somewhat of jealousy and fear. I would not like to go so far as this myself: nevertheless, this is the impression that has unfortunately been caused in many quarters by their utterances.
It is only natural that most of us would like to see the championship of English billiards held by an Englishman, but should it ever be wrested from us by our brilliant kinsman, let us be fair and above board. Let it not be said that a rule was made to cripple just one particular player in order that the next time the championship was played victory should be to England.