The story is one against myself and two old sporting friends. I was spending a week-end in Blackpool, and walking on the front during one afternoon I came across the late Yorkshire cricketer J. T. Brown, who was there trying to recuperate. He was only allowed very gentle exercise.
During our conversation I avoided mentioning his illness as much as possible, and asked him if I could do anything to "buck him up." Jack was very fond of a game of billiards, and remarked that if we could get where it was quiet he would like me to play him a game.
After considering for a time, we decided on a place where there was only one table, and where, as a rule, the room was very quiet in an afternoon. On our way we ran across Bobbie Peel, who was then living at Blackpool. We told him where we were going, and he decided to go with us.
Just as we entered the billiard-room there was a burst of cheering from a room full of people. We were naturally surprised, and inquired if there was a match going on, when an old gentleman turned to us and said: "No; the match is over, and I will take the same start of anyone in the room."
Jack asked what start that was, and he replied points for years in a hundred up.
After comparing ages, I had to concede my opponent 19 points in a hundred. The game started by my giving a miss in baulk. My opponent went round the table and made the cannon (a very good shot) and compiled a twenty-one break, which brought forth a great amount of applause from the spectators. On my opponent saying that he would back himself for drinks round, Jack at once took the bet, although I told him it was no certainty, as the balls, table, and cue were all strangers to me.
However, the bet was on and the game proceeded.
Shortly after this my opponent left me a good position, with the result that I made a break of 72, which put him out of court. The game was finished soon after this, my opponent remarking: "I have taken the pitcher to the well once too often, but never mind, order your drinks." The drinks were duly brought in for all, and we were looking for my opponent to drink his health, but he had disappeared, leaving the account for the drinks unsettled.
I shall not forget the faces of Jack and Bob for a long time, but the affair ended in a hearty laugh all round, Jack saying it was the most enjoyable thing he had come across for a long time. He declared that it had done him as much good as a lot of the treatment he had had, and was certainly cheaper. The fun of the thing lasted for a day or two, as we were repeatedly pointed out by people with a very broad smile on their faces.
At a church near Tamworth the panels of the entrance doors are made from one of the old panelled-oak billiard table beds. The church is on the private estate of Lt.-Col. Wolferston.
A recently-patented billiard rest consists of a long block of wood with its four slightly-tapered sicks grooved. It is not quite easy to see the application of this idea to the very mobile requirements of average play, but it may serve to direct the attention of the learner to the horizontal plane in which the cue should ordinarily work.
Lord Wimborne used to tell a story of two men who wanted to play billiards in a small country inn. "Billiards" was announced on a poster outside, but when they went into the "billiard-room" they found a rather rickety table and one or two unhealthy-looking balls. "Just look here" one of the men exclaimed to the landlord, "the spot has been rubbed off this ball. How can we tell which is mine and which is my friend's?" The landlord examined the balls "We gen'rally tells 'em by their shape!" he said calmly.