I first saw him at the 1978 National Championship in Calcutta. As I recall, he was a wide-eyed, fresh-faced, 17-year-old, with hands that dangled almost to his knees. I was on a break of 300-plus when he ambled into the room in that loose-limbed way that one now associates with him. He sat down in the front row and wrapped his legs round each other, pretzel-like, in the manner only skinny kids can manage. I happened to be in cracking form at the time and in fact notched up breaks of 1,149, 996, 611, and 259 in the same match, he was an enthralled spectator throughout. It was the beginning of a warm friendship with Geet Sethi, destined to become world professional billiard champion one day.
Geet was always into sport. In fact, he was a promising young swimmer at the state level but, fortunately for India, and the green baize game, the click of the balls in the hushed atmosphere of the billiards room held greater fascination for the youngster than the splashing of water.
Guided by Satish Mohan, one of many brilliant Indian players, Geet soon dominated the junior ranks, winning the national junior titles in both games several times and establishing in the process a junior billiards record break of 427 which many senior players would be proud to call their own.
I first crossed swords with him in the early 1980s in Ahmedabad his hometown, whilst he was still a junior. He had already made an 800 break in practice and was being touted by the locals as the next men's national champion. This annoyed me intensely, particularly as those who sang his praises the loudest knew the least about the game. Geet kept his own council amid the hubbub and just tried to get on with the game. As it happened I beat Geet quite comfortably but noticed the talent and his potential for success and foresaw that one day he would be a world figure. "For heaven's sake, Ahmedabad," I wrote later, "If you love him, leave him alone." I was later to realise that I needn't have worried. Even at that age Geet was level-headed enough not to be affected by the adoration lavished on him by the public. The level-headedness persists till today. Although he is ranked No.l and world champion, he will always say, "If I win this round. I'll be playing XYZ," instead of saying, "I'll be playing XYZ in the semifinals." This sober approach, which is instinctive with him, has been reinforced by the knowledge, empirically gained, of the uncertainty of sport, the frailty of temperament, and of the fact that others can play the game too.
Hut having said that, he does not indulge in false modesty, that grovelling, hands-folded, head-inclined posture which is great for domestic mass-consumption, but which is inimical to the controlled aggression necessarily cultivated by every successful sportsman. Geet is good and only the foolish would suggest that he does not know it.
Despite his obvious air of authority at the table, I cannot think of a single player barring one frustrated individual who does not count anyway, who has a harsh word to say about him. His deportment has always been impeccable, his anxiety to learn, on and off the table, is exceptional, and his respect for those who have achieved something, is total. One of the pleasures I have on the professional circuit is travelling with Geet. We share a common love for precision in language, he is very much the educated urbane Indian who can hold his own in any country. My Hindi is as execrable as Geet's English is good and he has had many a laugh at my manful struggle with Hindi syntax, gender, and vocabulary. But his laughter is without sting and it is easy to laugh with him at myself. It goes without saying that a person as successful in sport as he, is hard-working, dedicated, and disciplined. He does not smoke, drinks only occasionally (though he once surprised me by matching me Bloody Mary for Bloody Mary on an Air India flight home) and is careful about what he eats. But he is fun-loving with a gift for mimicry that keeps one in stitches. What makes his take-off even more delicious is that, nine times out of ten, the victim would never believe that, given Geet's reserved exterior, he could be capable of such impish pranks.
He loves dressing up and has the height and slim build that enhances the appeal of good clothes. When we are abroad and the day's practice is done, we often stroll through the shopping centres and salivate at all the gorgeous stuff on display. I am usually the first to crack and with Geet egging me on, I suddenly find myself in dazed possession of two new pairs of shoes with shoe-trees to match at a hundred quid a go!
It is on the table that the quintessential Geet Sethi comes through. On the table there are no compromises, whether in practice or during a world championship. When he is ready to go, ready to, "Kick ass," as the Americans so colourfully put it, his face is like granite, he is one of the most difficult men to beat as his boundless confidence, developed over countless hours of back-breaking labour, is the source of great strength and courage under stress. There are perhaps a handful of men in the world who have the capability of beating him but even these have to play at their best to win.
His wife Kiran and infant son Raag are now the centre of his life which they should be, but, far from diluting his singleness of purpose, they have, in fact, strengthened it for him. At 31, with everything going for him, he should be at the top for a long time.
Bravo Geet Sethi, terrific player, great ambassador - and good friend.