In the Billiard World interest is fast centreing around the coming struggle for the Championship of English Billiards. This month, T. Reece and M. Inman meet in a preliminary game to decide who shall have the honour of a fight to the finish with H. W. Stevenson, holder of the title, and of the handsome challenge- trophy presented by the Billiards Control Club, who are the promoters of the contest. It is a mere platitude to say that Stevenson is one of the prettiest and most effective cuemen the game has ever seen. It is always a treat to see him at the table, and when at the top of his form he must be reckoned in a class by himself. While not quite so phlegmatic in the stress and strife of a trying game as Dawson used to be, the Hull professional never loses a point through anything approaching nerves. No matter how the game stands, he seems to< be supported by a supreme confidence in his prowess with the cue; and a glance at his records shows that this confidence is based on the solid rock of supreme talent. Like the greatest figure in billiard history, John Roberts, Stevenson is a very rapid scorer, and in point of style he brings to mind the greatest of all past-masters of the game. His alert figure moves round a billiard table with the confidence of an assured master his every movement is an education to the average cueman; and although on some of his displays he is not entitled to be accepted as the dead certainty he undoubtedly was a few seasons back, yet the unexpected will have to be in fine form to enable the Billiard Championship to change hands next month.
Still, when all is said and done, there is no gainsaying the fact that Stevenson has been somewhat uneven as a scoring force during the last couple of seasons, and has not maintained the form displayed during the wonderful 1908-9 season, when he swept everything before him, and scored a thousand breaks of 100 or over, to say nothing of winning twenty-five of the thirty completed games in which he participated. His 1909-10 record was not anything like so good, as he lost fifteen of the twenty-three decided games in which he took part, arid his display in the Championship was occasionally far from, convincing; although 1003 points separated his total from that of Inman when " Game " was called. Of course, allowance must be made for the domestic trouble, which culminated in the death of his wife while the first championship match was in progress during April, and caused the game to be abandoned. But there must be some additional explanation of the irregularities shown of late by Stevenson's play compared with that of his previous performances. There have, nevertheless, been occasional glimpses of the real Stevenson, such as that provided by his recent dazzling win in the match with Edward Diggle, and the still later match with Reece. There is not the least ground for supposing that we have seen the best of Stevenson. The champion was born in Hull, July 15th, 1874, and billiard players last for a good many decades after they have first come to their own. We have seen John Roberts celebrating his 63rd birthday by making a break of six hundred or so off the balls, and Mr. H. A. O. Lonsdale, who first won the Amateur Championship in 1888, when Stevenson was quite a small boy, came into the game again last year and proved himself the best of the amateurs who' competed for the Championship. No, we must seek further afield for an explanation of Stevenson's recent form, judged, as it must be, by his own high standard.
In all likelihood the explanation is that since Dawson dropped out of first-class play Stevenson has not had his full powers called forth. No doubt he has been hard put to it in many a well-fought game in which he was conceding points, but in these contests there is always the knowledge that defeat does not carry with it anything even remotely approaching the loss of prestige incurred by losing a level match. This knowledge has, perhaps, not been good for Stevenson. He has, perchance, held the results of his start-giving matches too cheaply, and for a time has shown less brilliancy, because, no matter what the class of the human opposition may be, the inherent difficulties of the game of billiards remain almost unchanged. It does not matter whether Stevenson is playing Diggle or Inman, or a lesser player—" even as you and I"—a difficult stroke remains a difficult stroke, and the mastery of every positional sequence makes a full demand on the skill of the Champion. Billiards is one of the few games in which the prowess of the individual ^player is not unduly assisted or flattered by having nothing to beat. At cricket, for instance, weak bowling and slack fielding enable a batsman to reach a century with comparative ease. But a cueist, no matter how poor a player he may be engaging, has to strive for every stroke of his break as earnestly as he knows the way. He can take no liberties with the game because the opposition is comparatively weak, for if he does his average will suffer in any case, and he is almost certain to lose if pitted against a class opponent in receipt of a reasonable start. This rule applies to the Champion as well as countless players below him. The most the man behind the cue can gain by even a marked inferiority in his opponent is an increased number of scoring chances, and what psychological advantage there may be in the feeling that victory is certain. Sometimes this " advantage ' is transformed into a serious handicap through over-confidence wrought to a pitch which brings it into conflict with the unchangeable playing conditions of billiards.
To Melbourne Inman the word " Championship " means as much as "Excelsior " did to the extremely determined young gentleman immortalised by Longfellow. He is a typical example of what is possible to the man who welds his life to one idea and works day and night to realise the aim and ambition of his professional existence. Watch him in a keen game while a break is in progress, and you behold a personification of the determination and pertinacity which has brought him to the front. It matters little whether he or his opponent is keeping the marker busy, Inman is all attention and concentration. When at the table, while missing no opportunity himself, he is careful to leave few scoring chances for his opponent. This keen and close study of every move has made him the greatest master of safety billiards the game has ever seen since the late J. Bennett lowered the safety curtain on John Roberts in 1870 to such good purpose that he succeeded in wresting the Championship from his gifted opponent in a game of a thousand up, which took four and three-quarter hours to decide. Inman plays for safety in the right way at the right moment as to the manner born, and his wonderful ability in this direction enables him to win many a game which looks like a forlorn hope.
But it is not right to dismiss Inman as all grit and: safety. He has his full share of these qualities, but he has, ii addition, break-building abilities which stamp him as a cueist of the class from which champions spring. He plays an open and robust game—there are no nursery cannon records of tremendous magnitude standing to his credit— but the game as he plays it is most attractive to watch, and is a match-winning force which has to be seen in operation to be properly appreciated. He views the red ball as the Chancellor of the Exchequer regards the estate of a deceased multi-millionaire, and he levies full toll from the coloured ball whenever it crosses his path. But he is no exponent of the two ball game, although at one period of his professional career he seemed likely to be. He keeps all three-balls going, and of late he has garnered points at the top of the table in effective and telling style. But he always has his mastery of the red ball in reserve, and takes no inordinate risks to keep the balls grouped in the vicinity of the billiard spot. A red loser and a quick return to the open game is quite good enough for him when the balls run awkward at the top. and this is not only the soundest of billiard tactics, but also gives the salt of constant variety to his game. He is perhaps the finest living judge of when it is policy to leave the fascinating top of the table game alone for a spell, and it must not be forgotten that while there is (as the proverb runs) always room at the top, the risks of failure are greater. How many games, among good-class amateurs especially, have been lost through a wilful disregard of these risks.
By an odd coincidence, Inman was dubbed the " Terrier" long before Mr. Haldane gave us the Territorial Force, and it will be well for the old country if in the hour of our need the " Terriers " display the same courage and spirit on the battlefield which animates Inman on the board of green cloth. No white flag was included in his kit when he joined the ranks of professional cuemen as a recruit, and there is as yet no sign whatever that he has the least use for such a piece of equipment. No matter how the game may be going, Inman is never " under the table," he treats a big break from an opponent as a compliment which must be returned with interest at the first chance of an opening, and if he can conclude his reply with a double baulk then so much the better. He is justly considered a good man to back in money matches, and many excellent judges are of opinion that his sterling fighting qualities and his continual improvement as a player will eventually place the highest honours the game can give within his grasp.
Tom Reece, the young man from Oldham, is not only a top-notch billiard player, but something else into the bargain. He is entitled to be mentioned with respect when long-distance swimming is discussed, and is a- pocket Hercules to a much greater extent than the general public knows anything about.
In fact, it is little short of marvellous how a man with his muscular development could display the nicety of touch and strength which has ever characterised his game. What might have been if he had not trained on himself a set of muscles which would have done credit to many a professional gymnast must remain a matter of conjecture.
Before the commencement of the present season, however, he specialised with a view of rendering his physical powers more amenable to the requirements of billiards pure and simple. We shall see how far this process will carry him; results to date are encouraging, and justify the hope that before we are much older Tom Reece will come into his own in the billiard world. And his heritage will be great indeed if the full measure of it is ever seen, for there can be no doubt that Reece is one of the most gifted players that ever made a break in a style calculated to please the most fastidious critic.
The student of human nature could hardly ask for a greater contrast in temperament than that provided by Inman and Reece. The Twickenham man is keen, yet cool, and quick to credit himself with every potential point. Reece, on the contrary, has not wholly controlled the conflicting emotions of the born artist, but it is all in his favour that experience, allied to the passage of time, is helping him in this combat with his weak point. Whether this process has reached a stage which will enable him to defeat Inman in the preliminary game at the Billiards Control Club remains to be seen. We shall not. however, have to wait long for the desired information, and although most people will prefer to pin their faith on the battling Inman, there will be no need to write about a surprise victory if Reece comes out on top.
In conclusion, we should say that unless Stevenson ;s at his very best, the final contest will be the hardest fight that he has had to put up during recent years, but if at the top of his form, there is little doubt that Stevenson will do full justice to the occasion in a manner satisfactory to himself.