Some weeks ago I went to see an exhibition game played by Jack Karnehm and Mike Russell in Malcolm Lax's private room. Malcolm has a beautiful table which is kept in tip-top condition. No-one can control the weather and the afternoon was one of high humidity. As a consequence the players found some difficulty as the balls tended to skid, throw a somewhat inconsistent angle, and kick more than usual. Jack Karnehm made two breaks in the nineties and failed twice at the long-loser. Russell could not get going and failed at two or three long in-offs, he also missed several ball-to-ball cannons up the table due to an unusually wide throw. The champion was thus failing on his way to the spot-end. Karnehm's two nineties (They should have been two centuries) were made at the spot end. Towards the end of the first session Russell looked more like himself and made a 130 odd. During the interval he remarked that he had found it rather hard work but said that he would try to do better in the second half. His efforts to do better resulted in four breaks just over the hundred, a 189, and a great effort of 312. These breaks were made at the spot end by floating white - not at his very best, but under the conditions, very fine breaks indeed.
Driving home and musing on the Champion's performance it struck me, not for the first time, that Russell had made his breaks in a manner that was quite independent of the playing conditions in-as-much that such things as a humid cloth or a sightly wider than normal throw were quite irrelevant. Therefore Given: -
a) A true table, with good cushions, and pockets cut as for snooker,
b) A method consisting of a series of virtually unmissable strokes,
c) The ability to exploit such a method,
Then there seems little reason why a man should not continue to score until he dropped from exhaustion. All the things that the text books advise players to do or not do, advice concerning side, the effect of the nap, etc, comments concerning the playing of the all-round game, are of no account when a player such as Russell has the balls in close position at the spot-end. He does have to get them there of course.
The very term implies an approach involving a series of scoring strokes which might be repeated ad infinitum. "Method," might be more realistically defined as a means whereby a player might score by a series of simple strokes to the very limit of his concentration and not less than a thousand or so. There are several basic - at least in theory -ways of scoring at billiards. Haphazard (not meant to be funny) This is the average amateur's way of playing. Such a player comes into the 50-100 break class and may well have a good knowledge of the game. These players are usually good at the long-loser, good potters, can score a few at the spot end, good stroke players, tend to hit rather too hard, are difficult men to beat when the balls are running well but are often unable to knock up even a twenty break when things are going badly. This is how nine players out of ten actually play the game even if that is not their intention. Anyone who has played Mini-Prix could name at least twenty such some of whom are quite successful. However it is clear that the "Haphazard," method is not one which will lead to very big breaks - let alone scoring indefinitely.
The "Haphazard," method highly refined. Willie Smith was said to be an, "All-round player," and his break of 2743 made in Manchester in 1928 is often cited as the record break for, "All-round." billiards. I have my doubts. Willie Smith was certainly a master of all phases of the game except the nursery cannon and there is little doubt that he could have played nurseries had he so wished. McConachy once told Smith to his face that he was not a real billiards player because he did not play nurseries. Smith's reply was to bet the New-Zealander that he would gather the balls and make a run of not less than twenty-five cannons at the very next session of their match. McConachy, wisely, did not accept the challenge. As regards Smith's many thousand breaks I would doubt that they were made by all-round methods in the generally accepted meaning of the term. Smith was a brilliant top-of-the-table player virtually perfecting the "Postman's Knock." and, from what I have read, many of his breaks consisted of long runs at the spot end interspersed with bouts of what might be called all-round play but what was hardly what the average player calls all-round play. For example, Smith would sometimes play the sequence Willie Smith would play this thin cannon to leave a little run through from the red and repeat the sequence six or seven times. This is hardly all-round play as understood by the average amateur player
The great Darlington cueman was no fool and would vary his method of play in order to make his game attractive to the viewing public.
As regards the hypothetical question of how best to score for evermore all-round play has to be out. It is too easy to lose position The player is at the mercy of cloth and kicks. There are large margins of error which make it ideal for most players but this very fact, the imprecise nature of the all round game, rules it out as regards the possibility of perpetual scoring.
The red-ball game is supposed to be easy. If it were so then there would be more and bigger breaks made from the red even under the present limit of fifteen hazards. A Mini-Prix tournament will usually have about 50 players ranging from the world professional champion to players of only novice standard. It is a pretty safe bet that the red ball limit will not be attained more than two or three times, if at all, at any Mini-Prix. It is true that the top players make little attempt to score from the red ball but there are plenty of capable players who do, and yet few decent sized red-ball breaks are made. The stumbling block is nearly always:-
When the red-ball is well below the middle spot and yet not on for the middle pockets. Some very good players will as often as not play a forcer or a screw into a middle pocket. Though they may keep the red to the centre line of the table it may still finish well above the pyramid spot and thus be out of action as regards further hazard play. Riso Levi has written somewhere that this was the stroke that caused George Gray to break down more often than any other. Gray was of course the great red-ball specialist. In the 1910-11 season he made no less than 23 thousand breaks with a top of 2196 unfinished (Composition balls.) On one occasion he had a run of 289 consecutive centre pocket strokes. Other players have made huge red-ball breaks and one wonders what a Lindrum or a Davis might have done with the red had they concentrated on it to the extent that they did nursery cannons. Red ball play is however, in my opinion, not the road to perpetual scoring. The deep long loser may be missed by the best of players, vagaries of cloth and cushion have an effect, even the most knowledgeable of players may lose the red in a middle pocket, in short, the method is rather imprecise and too demanding on the players ability to cue almost perfectly and with almost perfect strength time after time. It is too difficult.
A few players in the history of the game have mastered the nursery cannon. I do not know of anyone playing today who is sufficiently proficient at nurseries to be able to rely on them for the bulk of his scoring or even a part of his scoring. In any event I do not think that the nursery cannon can be considered as a method. Despite the apparent repetitiveness of the play virtually every cannon is slightly different and any system of scoring which every now and again requires a masse stroke can hardly be called methodical. Cannon play might almost be called improvisatory as, though there are certain basic principles involved, the player is virtually making it up as he goes along. Nursery cannon play is said to be monotonous and possibly the main reason for the decline in interest in the game as a public spectacle. Personally I do not believe it. Too much of this kind of play may have been partly responsible. As regards our discussion on the theoretical possibility of scoring for ever I think we can forget about nurseries, it is not a sufficiently mechanical method of scoring. The, "Anchor," is also out of the question as, "Method," implies a means of scoring from a position which is fairly easily attainable even by quite ordinary players. A man might play a lifetime and never even by accident get the balls in an, "Anchor," or, "Jam," position. This leaves us with:-
Spot-end play, I think, provides the only real possibility (No limitations) of a player perfecting a means by which he might score until he falls from exhaustion or packs up through sheer boredom. It is, of course true, that nobody has yet done this, but that may be due to reasons other than technique. And so back to Russell and Karnehm. Neither of these two were able to make much headway either by the all round game or the red-ball under the condition as described earlier. Once safely at the spot end it was a different matter and both made breaks, Russell a triple century. The point is that the individual strokes are in themselves so easy that any difficulties inherent in the playing conditions become irrelevant. It was always so. Well over a hundred years ago players were making thousand breaks by means of the spot stroke when a break of a couple of hundred by all-round or red-ball play was considered exceptional. In 1882 Billy Mitchell made the first billiards thousand break of 1055 whilst in 1890 Billy Peall made a break of 3,304 and in the same match made 1637, 1494, and 1322 - and all this with those badly running, totally unreliable, ivory balls! His method was the spot stroke - a very easily attained position. The only two players I have seen who gave the impression that they might never break down are Mike Russell and Norman Dagley. Both score heavily at the top-of-the-table but usually by slightly differing methods but both of which involve a repetition of a simple stroke - simple, that is, considered just as a scoring shot.
I once saw Norman score 1209 points in 5 visits to the table. His breaks were 52, 506, 0, 299, and 352. The 506 ended at a pot from the spot and I genuinely believe that he was getting bored. The few minutes break caused by leaving the table dissipated the boredom and he was thus able to score two more great breaks The reason for failing at a repetitive activity is said to be due to a build up of what, in psychological terms, is known as reciprocal inhibition.
Start at the beginning of this article and cross out every "e." This seems a simple enough task but as you move down the page you will miss more and more. Some people are able to concentrate on such a task for longer than others. This effect is as apparent in billiards as in anything else and shows up as a loss of concentration.
Dagley's repetitive method is the classical, "Postman's Knock." This sequence can be boring to the spectator, just as boring as the nursery cannon was supposed to be. That Norman is not boring is to some extent due to his beautiful style of cueing. It is quite as interesting to watch his style of playing the game as it is to watch the outcome of his strokes.
The World Champion does not often play Postman's Knock though he is highly skilled at it and, when in good form, can work the balls into the position almost whenever he wishes.
By the "floating white" method Russell has made two thousand breaks to date - 1036 and 1203. When asked what he failed at he replied with one word, "Concentration."
We are then left with the question, why have these two players not scored much bigger breaks that they already have? In Dagley's case I think the answer lies in his personality. There is much steel in the man and if ever I had to choose someone to play a game for my life I am not sure that he wouldn't be my first choice (Of post-war players.) However, and I have his authority for this, he always regarded breaks to be made for the purpose of winning rather than as an end in themselves. This is not to say that he is not pleased to make a big break, of course he is, but I do not recall him ever making the effort to produce a really big break once a game was obviously won. (Exhibitions apart.) Russell is in some ways the same and yet at the same time different. He too, is not a player who seems to want to make a big break every visit Russell is an extraordinarily determined player blessed with high powers of concentration. He will often have a game won after only a few visits and is then quite happy to enjoy a cigarette and let his opponent play in the full knowledge that, should there be a dramatic turn round, he can mostly turn on the power whenever he feels like it. Russell is different in that he is still quite a young man and is probably nowhere near the limit of his potential. I think that had either of these two players been around in the twenties and early thirties then they would have been regular thousand break men. Professional tournaments nowadays never have matches of more than four hours. If finals were of two or three days it would not surprise me in the least if Russell made a two or three thousand break.
The great Yorkshire player made a number of thousand breaks during his career. This is a remarkable fact considering that he was somewhat limited from a technical point of view. But he was the most avid break-maker I ever saw. There was no relaxing with Leslie. I saw two sessions of a match in 1971 billed as being for, "The World Professional Championship," in which Driffield played Jack Karnehm. Jack has his own story to tell about this match; when I went, Driffield was several thousand in front and Karnehm could not get going. This made no difference to the Yorkshireman. Every time Karnehm broke down Driffield was at the table like a hungry tiger eager to exploit every leave to the full. He was totally obsessed with making breaks - the bigger the better. If he lost the red he would play to the limit and double-baulk. Every time he broke down he would raise his eyes to the heavens and curse the fates that had caused his shot to miss, he would sit down leaning forward in his chair, willing his opponent to miss, ready to pounce. And all this with no great ability at all at the spot end. The point I am making is that had Driffield had the spot end ability of a Dagley or a Russell then he might well have played until the lights were turned out or the trade people came to dismantle the table.
Scoring for ever, or at least for a long time, has been the theme of this article and is an expression which seems to have originated with the old-time player Billy Mitchell. There is a little book by P. M. Hotine, called, "Practice Strokes at Billiards," which contains examples from the match play of Roberts, Dawson, etc. On pages 73 - 77 in my edition there are diagrams of a sequence of strokes by W. Mitchell called, "A Circular Break." With both object balls handily placed near the middle pockets the first diagram shows an in-off the white in the middle pocket playing that ball into the postman's knock position. The second diagram shows the red potted in the middle to leave the postman's knock cannon. The third diagram shows the cannon whilst the fourth shows the red being potted to leave the cross loser. The fifth stroke in the sequence is the cross loser taking the red to the middle pocket for a pot to start all over again. Mitchell publicised this sequence as a method which enabled a player to "Score for ever." I don't know to what extent Mitchell was able to exploit it. I have read that Willie Smith would sometimes play this sequence as a variant from orthodox postman's knock. In any event it is not a bad practice routine.
So there you have it. Three methods of scoring until you drop. All that is required is some knowledge of what you are trying to do, a good cue action and a decent touch. So decide which method you prefer, and go to it. Good Luck. Oh! I nearly forgot. There is one other small requirement. It goes under the name of:- Talent
It is not on record as to what progress the redoubtable Billy ever made with his bright idea of, "Scoring for ever," but it is certain that there were times when his opponents must have thought that he was well on course to do just that. To Mitchell belongs the distinction of making the first ever recorded thousand break. He accomplished this feat on October 5th, 1882, playing against another Billy - Peall - at the Black Horse Hotel, Rathbone Place, London. The break was 1,055 and included a sequence of 350 spot strokes.
Mitchell was born in 1854 in Derbyshire and became employed as a marker in a Hotel in Sheffield when aged only 13. From Sheffield he went to work in a hotel billiard room in Scarborough where he practiced the spot stroke at every available moment.
He came to prominence as the result of two matches played against Joseph Bennett, winning both of them, and making breaks of 522 unfinished and 679 unfinished. One of his greatest wins was in an, "All-in," championship match against W.J. Peall. In the 15,000 up game, with just one day left for play Billy found himself trailing W.J. by some 3,000 or so. He turned the tables by scoring 4,427 to Peall's 1,267 and won by over a thousand.
Mitchell's best was 1,839 made in October 1883 and comprised 613 consecutive spot strokes. Riso Levi writes ("Billiards in the Twentieth Century,") that Mitchell was a very accurate potter and recalls an evening when he saw Mitchell play through a session during which not a single pot appeared to so much as even graze either jaw on its way into the top pocket.
And from one great player to another.