When asked recently to write something about billiards to help the youngest addition to the family of papers devoted to the game, I readily consented. The first number of "The Billiard Times" had not then appeared, and before going farther it is but just to congratulate the proprietors and Editor on the healthy appearance of the little stranger. The portraits of John Roberts, father and son, are interesting, and are appropriately accorded precedence, for each in his time was unapproachable as a player.
The sketch of the father was taken about the time he challenged Kentfield, long before he occupied the rooms in Saville House, Leicester Square, and became well known to Londoners; the son's likeness is admirable, conveying as it does the impression of that rapidity of decision, combined with ability of execution, which makes his play pre-eminently attractive.
During the last twenty-five or thirty years various newspapers dealing specially with billiards have flourished and decayed.
"Billiards," "The Billiard Review," "The World of Billiards," have come and gone; and so recently as last November "The Billiard Monthly" made its first appearance, and has now successfully attained its fifth number.
Of recent events connected with billiards the appearance and performances of George Gray must at present be considered the most important. By means of an unparalleled mastery over losing hazards he has compiled breaks far beyond any made since the spot stroke was virtually barred. His opponent, whoever he may be, has to sit out one, two, or more sessions of the match—a state of affairs practically unknown since Peall's great break at tho Aquarium during which Dawson filled the role of spectator.
Now the question which arose about spot play is certain to come up regarding losing hazard play. Two interests are involved: those who cannot play the strokes as well as Gray are keen to have the superior talent cramped, and those financially interested fear that the public will tire of the performance and the gate diminish. It sometimes happens that these two interests are combined, and when that is so pressure is sure to be applied in order to obtain some ruling which will limit the power of the stroke to influence the game. Ordinarily, what has been done is directly or indirectly to limit the number of strokes which may be made in succession: in the case of the spot stroke, indirectly, to two; in ball-to-ball cannons, directly, to twenty-five; and as to losing hazards some similar device may be recommended.
It is, of course, premature to deal with the case before it is brought forward, but as a matter of personal feeling I am averse from legislating against a man who by superior talent or hard work has surpassed competitors. If restriction of a stroke is necessary in the interests of the game, the only fair way of doing so which occurs to me is to make the table more difficult. If it is a question of hazards becoming too frequent, tighten the pockets; if cannons predominate too greatly, recourse can be had to methods in use in America and elsewhere whereby the surface of the table is divided into spaces and rules are made as to play in or out of them. These or some modification of them may be found necessary for professional players; for amateurs there is no such necessity, the present pockets of the B.C.C. Standard are too difficult for those whose average is less than say 8; that is, in other words, they will take an inordinate time to play 100 up.
Moreover, play on a tight-pocket table, say the 3-inch size, cramps all play at pockets—it leads to a timid crawling stroke, and even with fine players the inducement is to promote the cannon game at the expense of the hazard.
The question is fully discussed in Chapter XI. of the Badminton "Billiards," which those interested may find it profitable to consult; they will, at any rate, be rewarded by finding remarks on the championship and on the game on a 3-inch pocket table, by Mr. Russell D. Walker, whose preference for that make of table and skill in playing thereon are widely known.
Most probably, no amount of research would enable us to say definitely who invented the spot stroke, but we have evidence which induces us to place the period of its invention at eighty or a hundred years ago. Writing in 1839, Kentfield refers to the stroke, and states bluntly that in his opinion it is "not billiards," and Mr. Scholes Birch, the well-known gentleman cricketer who died last year at the age of 83, was connected with the stroke in its infancy, inasmuch as his father taught it to John Roberts, sen. This takes us hack quite a long way, but, as the elder Roberts was born in 1826, it is obvious that Kentfield's reference deals with an earlier period; and although the centenary of the spot stroke may not be quite due yet, it is much nearer than many people imagine.
Bad players make plenty of six strokes, but you can watch first-class billiards for a month without seeing the stroke made on purpose. A six stroke in tip-top billiards is nearly always three more points than the striker intended to score, and not infrequently spoils the positional sequence of a break.
It is curious how few players there are about who have any idea of using the cue with both hands. Yet such an accomplishment is very useful, and could be acquired to an appreciable and valuable extent in the time many young players devote to practicing showy strokes of the fancy type which do more harm than good to their billiards.
Fred Shorter made a time record in money matches, which is certain not to be beaten. This was in 1877, when Tom Taylor essayed to concede 200 in 1,000 to Shorter for one hundred pounds a side. He lost by no less than 836 points. Shorter got on the spot to such purpose that he made 207 spot strokes in a break of 636 and ran out a winner in the remarkable time of one hour and ten minutes. This works out to best part of thirty shillings a minute for the time Shorter was at the table, and although it may not be a financial record, yet it is the quickest thousand up for money we know anything about, and is certain to remain so, because the spot is abolished and professionals do not play such short money matches at the present time.
Private practice is the golden key to success at billiards, but if it is to be of appreciable value it must be carried out with the fixed resolve to master one stroke thoroughly, both as regards the score and subsequent position, before passing to another. Neglect of this rule accounts for so many players pleading that the things they do at practice fail them in actual play. The fact is they have not practised any one stroke long enough to have more than a partial knowledge of it, and it is scarcely necessary to point out that "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing" at billiards as well as other matters.
Pyramids and life pool are two good old games which have suffered an eclipse of late years owing to the popularity of snooker. But although live pool seems to be looking up again here and there, pyramids remains almost totally neglected. Yet, years ago, the "all-red" game was so much in favour that a big match between professionals frequently concluded with the best of a stipulated number of games at pyramids. Perhaps, next season, those in search of a novelty for the present generation, might resuscitate a game or two of pyramids between professionals after the usual billiards, as the game is a pretty one to watch and makes a full call on the skill of the cueman.
Billiard tutors have often pressed on their pupils the lesson that much can be done at billiards without imparting side to the cue ball. George Gray has proved the extent of this billiard truism by playing all his strokes without side, except one hazard, which, however, is comparatively unimportant and crops up but seldom.
John Roberts the elder is reputed to have played billiards with the tip of his umbrella, and many old gentlemen are fond of alluding to this alleged circumstance. We say "alleged" because all the available evidence goes to prove that the father of English billiards did nothing of the sort. Both his sons, John and Charles, have stated in print that they never saw him play with an umbrella, but they both mention the fact that their father could play remarkably well with his walking stick. This stick had no cue tip attached to it, but, all the same, the old gentleman could make his fifty breaks with it, and it took a really good amateur all his time to hold his own with a cue against the walking stick in the hands of that real Nature's nobleman—the elder John Roberts.
Mention of the elder Roberts brings to mind the fact that quite recently, when John Roberts was playing William Cook at the Grand Hall, Leicester Square, a gentleman present remarked that he saw the game for the first championship, in l870, between the fathers of the two players. After the session, he was introduced to both John Roberts and William Cook, who were pleased to greet one who witnessed the memorable match referred to. There cannot be many alive now who can say they saw this game, and if these lines should meet the eye of one who was present we shall be glad to hear from him if he will kindly drop a line to the Editor.
Tables below standard size are common enough, and excellent billiards can be played on them, too, if care is taken to get a small table which is proportional to the standard article and above reproach as regards workmanship and quality of materials. But it is seldom, indeed, that one so much as hears of a table of greater dimensions than the ordinary full-sized table. A notable instance of the kind which has attracted our notice was a table 15ft. long, which was to be seen for quite a long time in an Australian hotel, and we should say that it was by no means easy to score a break on this table. It would be interesting to know whether the balls and pockets were increased in size in proportion to the measurements of the bed of the table.
When the cue is held at an angle of about 45 degrees it is the easiest thing in the world to cut the cloth. This may be called the "fatal angle" and beginners should avoid it very carefully unless they are willing to incur the usual penalty for cutting the cloth.
The slower you can play the easier it is to control the balls. Trouble commences when it is necessary to make a forcer. As a rule, all the leading players come to grief as soon as the run of the balls compels a hard forcing stroke to be made, because, even if the stroke is made, the after position is more a matter of luck than judgment even with the best cuemen.