THE LATE MATCH FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP

IN another column will be found a full account of the recent great match for the Championship, and from it it will be seen that "Cook meets defeat but not disgrace." Having witnessed every match for the championship since its commencement, we have no hesitation in saying that the play last night was the best that has ever yet taken place. There can, too, be but one universal feeling with regard to Cook's extraordinary run of ill luck at the finish, and that is one of real commiseration.

It is so often stated after a match is over that the loser had bad luck, when in reality the luck was evenly balanced, taking the game all through, that we would guard ourselves from being misunderstood on the present occasion. In stating that Cook had bad luck during the late match, we do not for one moment mean to assert that he would necessarily have won had the luck been even; for that would be detracting from Roberts's well-earned victory. It is, however, quite possible to feel for the vanquished without plucking the laurels from the victor's brow.

Cook, however, had much to contend against, and considering that even champions are but mortal, we must call attention to what may be termed the turning-point of the game. Cook had reached 718 to Roberts's 682, when the latter, by means of a fluke, got a fine break of 85. Undoubtedly in this fine break Roberts played remarkably well, but then his opponent must possess a temper bordering on the angelic not to have been put off in consequence.

Another and far more important point in connection with the match was the general arrangements. It is an extremely unpleasant duty to find fault, yet in the interest of billiards and of the players themselves, who if they have erred have assuredly done so from thoughtlessness and not intentionally, we feel bound to back up the opinion of our contemporary the Sportsman, which observes— "Before closing our account of the match we must express our surprise at the narrow-minded policy which actuates either the players engaged in these matches or their agent, Mr. Austin. Such utter disregard of and want of courtesy to press men generally cannot fortunately be met with in any of even the higher branches of sport."

Our personal experience certainly confirms this statement. The ticket with which we were favoured was numbered, but the seat was occupied. A like fate was experienced by a friend by whom we were accompanied, who had purchased a guinea ticket, and who left the hall for good after remaining about a quarter, of an hour. Another friend who was present informed us that he could not get his proper seat. Now both these gentlemen are editors of well-known London papers.

The fact was that the hall was far too small. No persons are more interested in promoting the popularity of billiards than the players themselves, and we trust another time they will take a lesson of management from their cute transatlantic cousins, who go on the sound principle of cheap admission and plenty of room. Again, too, the more dignified the profession, the greater the courtesy shown between professional men. A physician would not dream of taking a fee from a brother medical man, and we trust another time a larger hall and we may add larger ideas will prevent the spectacle of a veteran player who had travelled all the way from Glasgow from being either mulct of a guinea or left outside in the vestibule.

Another point, too, was that the room was nearly dark, rendering the taking of short notes a work of difficulty, and the writing an accurate account at the time an impossibility. One enterprising member of the press, who, we believe, represents vast interests, under threat, as we were informed, of leaving the room, obtained a couple of candles, by which means he was enabled to write; but it is not pleasant to do one's duty under the trying circumstances of greasing the clothes of those behind us, who resent the injury by blowing out our lights at intervals.

Numbers of our contemporaries fail even to mention the match, including the leading journal on the one hand, and the cheapest and last addition to the daily papers on the other. Now the influence of the House of Commons itself would be considerably weakened throughout the country were reporters to be systematically excluded from the gallery of the house, and even champions will find themselves in the long run equally as mortal as M.Ps.

There is, however, a good old saying, audi alterant partem. We know how great have been the difficulties in issuing complimentary tickets ad libitum; but this is not the point complained of —it is the want of accommodation for the press.

For three persons to be crowded into a space only sufficient for two, and where any movement of the arms is attended with difficulty, is not conducive to accurate reporting, more especially in the dark.

We look, too, at the arrangements from a point of view as one of the public. The price charged for admission on Monday last was one guinea.

Let any one present contrast the discomfort to which he was exposed with the comfort of a stall at the opera. We feel confident that were the managers of the next match to fit up the seats on altogether a different system, a far larger amount of money would be taken than on Monday last. The system then pursued was one that may be termed penny wise and pound foolish. It was this suicidal policy that had so much to do with the downfall of the ring, and has been continued up to the present day, exhibiting itself but a short time back in a miserable glove fight.

In another column we publish an account of the match and the score, which latter was taken under circumstances of difficulty that can only be compared to making out Bradshaw's railway guide by the light of a box of lucifer matches. Fortunately press men, as a body, invariably pull together in questions of etiquette, and are always willing to help one another. We trust that in the next match for the championship the managers will have a more far-sighted policy than making distinctions as invidious as unnecessary.

It may be thought that, as a journal devoted principally to billiards, our policy would have been to have made the best of things, and rather have hidden oversights on the part of professionals or their agents. It is, however, because we are essentially a billiard journal, and have no personal or private grievance, that, in the interest of billiard professionals generally, we call attention to what we believe to be errors of judgment on their part, which have but to be pointed out to be corrected.