THIS is August, and during what fine weather intervals there may be in the month, those "in the billiards" have time to look round and take mental stock. Business ideas for the coming autumn and winter come to mind, and "It Won't Make Any Difference To Us" is the first thought of those who find business more or less on the down grade. The habit of mind embodied in that thought has smashed many fine houses in the billiard trade, has closed halls by the dozen and has not been without its detrimental influence on billiards and snooker in clubs and various institutes.
THE thought ranges in a vicious circle. When trade is brisk and takings satisfactory, any new thing which promises to make things even better is met with—" It won't make any difference to us."The same words, spoken this time with gloomy emphasis, apply when trade is bad and shows no noticeable signs of doing anything except getting worse. Consequently, the condition is invariably static, nothing can make" Any difference."
THE complete thought, however, is better expressed like this: " It won't make any difference to us, however much it may affect other people."This discounts any move in the direction of following new methods which others have proved of value, and exhibits to the full, that intense conservatism which leads to business failure. There must be hundreds of rooms where new cushions, new balls, new cloths, new cues, new rules, would be an obvious and much needed improvement. But there is always the cost, of course, and when this is considered,"the class of custom we get, the state of trade now-a-days; and, oh well, let things go on as they are for a while longer—It won't make any difference to us, however much it may affect other people."
IN a wider sense, this parish pump way of looking at things is a steady drain on the general prosperity of billiards and snooker. An ill-kept and badly furnished room may easily induce a man to drop his cue for good; in these days when so many attractions cater for pleasure money, it does not take much to send it from one sport to another. It says much for the intrinsic playing appeal of billiards and snooker that these games are as popular as they are. We know there are many places where patrons are well catered for, but exceptions are both numerous and significant.
FOR instance, we were taken to a good class club in the suburbs recently. The billiard room was well built and designed, well lighted and very clean. Most of the tables were in quite good order, so good that we were surprised to see one table covered with that billiard abomination, a "turned" woollen cloth, offering a mat-like playing surface without semblance of nap on it, something it is quite impossible to play on with any pleasure or satisfaction.
IT is good enough for our beginners and poor players," was the explanation of the secretary, and we were very surprised to hear that a billiard traveller had told him "it would be all right if it was turned," doubtless because it was easy to book an order for "returning," but difficult to get one for the necessary re-covering with a new cloth. The consequence, as we pointed out to the secretary, is that poor players never get any better, never get that educated zest for the game which makes them frequent payers of table money. Worse still, much worse, beginners get discouraged. They find that strokes are quite different when they try to play on a table fitted with a proper cloth, they feel that all their novice work has been labour in vain, and in many instances lose interest.
"IT won't make any difference to us, however much it may affect other people," said the secretary. We noted his words, the effect will be seen in his billiard room receipts as time goes on. Then, very possibly, his general committee will come to the conclusion that billiards and snooker are not so popular as they were, and that it is a mistake to spend money on the billiard room. Much custom has been lost in this way, and we repeat our surprise to find a representative of a trade house of repute pandering to it by assuring the club secretary that a "turned" woollen cloth "would be all right."
ANOTHER instance. Down in the country we know of an old coaching inn, on the down grade for very many years. The coming of motor-cars revived it a little, but the spirit of apathy remained and seemed to centre on the billiard room. Table, balls, cues and all else went from bad to worse, until at last it was quite hopeless, and we saw the table piled with luggage, the room used as a depository for anything the house wanted to keep out of the way. Venturing to remonstrate mildly one winter afternoon when a game of billiards would have been most welcome, we were met with a local variation of the "Won't make any difference to us" theme, the new point being that the billiard room had "been no good since the farmers left off playing pool on market-day."
THE old house changed hands not so long since. One of the first things done by new and enterprising management was to give the billiard room a thorough overhaul and refitting. The result was remarkable. On a wet evening last summer we went in for a game, but found the table booked until closing time. "We wish we had room for two or three tables, there is plenty of custom for them," the new manager told us. That is the result of enterprise and breadth of business outlook.
COMING closer home, a similar reward awaits billiard trade houses and interests who are astute and broad-minded enough to study what may be called the "trade pool," that is every general influence promoting the best interests of billiards and snooker. In this connection, there is still far too little support for the widespread activities of the revitalised Control Council. Efforts like their break competition, their County Championships, their certification of official referees, and much else linked with the work of Mr. George M. Watson, Secretary of the Trade Advisory Committee, are worthy of the keen and enthusiastic support of every trade house and playing centre throughout the country. Enough to be called an encouraging start has been given, but bulk support is withheld to an extent it is rather sad to contemplate. There are far, far too many who turn aside and say: "It won't make, any difference to us, however much it may affect other people."
THE odd thing is that these very people are the first to find fault. Let there be any point in the rules which does not meet with their approval, any allocation of playing venues for representative games which does not suit them, and these people, who stand aloof when it comes to helping, are loud in their complaints. The same is true concerning ourselves. Our sales are larger, our advertising support greater, than ever before. What is more, no other billiard paper has ever approached our sales and advertising support. But there are still those who mistake, for instance, we were rung up some time back by the manager of a restaurant, where there are several tables and a good connection of players. He had the final of his winter handicap coming along, and suggested that "it would pay the BILLIARD PLAYER to send a representative and a photographer to cover the event." Asking him to hold on, we soon discovered that he did not subscribe to the BILLIARD PLAYER, did not advertise with us, he even seemed to think it an impertinence when we asked him for the name of the newsagent who supplied his copy of the BILLIARD PLAYER.
ALTOGETHER, he evidently thought that a billiard paper is a kind of mysterious organism capable of existing on thin air until he needed it for free publicity. It never occurred to him that a billiard paper must be supported by those who hope to benefit by it. He would doubtless be quick to grumble if there was no billiard paper, the first to shout that the game needed one, but when it comes to support, well, never mind—"It won't make any difference to us, however much it may affect other people."
WE regret to announce that Mr. Gomer Evans, London Manager of Percy Brothers, Ltd., printers of the BILLIARD PLAYER, died of heart trouble on July 21 last. Always a sufferer from the results of war service, Mr. Evans never spared himself in the slightest. He was a worker if ever there was one, and always so genial and cheery that it was a pleasure to come in contact with him. His loss will fall heavily on his widow and children, who have our sincere sympathy.