Harking back to the ladies, I came across a curious confirmation of my recent notes regarding the value of billiards as an exercise for the fair sex. Writing ever so many years ago, Captain Crawley says— "In my first book on billiards 1 told an anecdote—strictly true—of a young lady who, by active use of the cue, reduced a high shoulder, when dumb-bells and all other means had failed. Since then other like cases have come to my knowledge; and at this moment I could point to a lady, moving in what are known as the 'higher circles,' who by billiard play has recovered health and strength, after having tried riding and half the mineral waters in the queendom in vain."
I doubt very much whether the gallant old captain, with all his billiard wisdom, ever penned anything more true concerning the game than the words quoted above. In fact, I am distinctly of opinion that billiards for ladies is more entitled to respect from the medical profession than many "cures" which have been fashionable before now.
And when billiards does come into its own with the fair sex, I can promise mere male votaries of the game strenuous times. The billiard player who has several sisters will be busy indeed when the game has its vogue among the ladies.
The above remarks are based on an experience of mine.
While dining at a friend's house I happened to raise the topic of billiards for ladies. And as I am quite an enthusiast on the subject I suppose I must have depicted the charms and advantages of the game in glowing terms.
At any rate, my enthusiasm proved infectious to such an extent that the two daughters of my host—one of whom could just handle a cue, while the other had never tried to do such a thing in her life—waxed quite keen on billiards all at once.
They were so very eager to take up billiards without loss of time that nothing less than a four-handed game after dinner would content them. Papa suggested that as I was a better player than he, I should have for my partner the young lady who had never taken a cue in her hand. He took the sister for his partner, and the game commenced.
I soon found that my partner had ideas of her own on billiards, and when a charming young lady with a merry smile on her lips insists on having her own way, well, what is the use of arguing?
So my fair partner insisted upon trying the effect of playing with the butt of the cue over her shoulder. It was a graceful pose, reminiscent of the kind of thing you see in pictures, but as it threatened danger galore to the cloth pater interfered.
Next, by an exhibition of marvellous misapplied ingenuity, my delightful partner devised a method of holding the cue-butt in much the same position as the old-fashioned round-arm bowler shapes at the instant of delivering the ball.
This, too, was vetoed by a stern parent, who had visions of the cheque he might have to sign for a new cloth, and the young lady gaily consented to adopt the orthodox position at the table. She proved a very apt pupil, too, and by the time the game was over she had gained an appreciable amount of knowledge of the rudiments of billiards.
The result was that both the young ladies took quite a serious interest in billiards. They practised a good deal, and became so very useful with the cue that pater said to me the other evening at our club— "You did a fine thing when you induced my girls to take up billiards—they can both beat me level, now!"
And, really, I do not see why many ladies should not hold their own at billiards against gentlemen players. There might even be a feminine Roberts or Stevenson only waiting for training and opportunity to uphold the prowess of the fair sex at the board of green cloth.
If, indeed, there be such a one, I sincerely hope she will not remain in the ranks of the unknown. What a wonderful thing it would be for the game if a lady player appeared who could really hold her own against a capable professional.
Turning to mere men, it must be admitted that in big billiards there is "nothing doing" at present, and I suppose we shall have to wait for another month or two yet before it will be time to even discuss the prospects of the coming season.
But there is one current item of interest. It is now definitely settled that Fred Lindrum will be visiting this country, and as he is another of the red ball players, a match between him and Gray ought to be well worth seeing. In any case, he is sure of a good reception, and if both he and Gray compete in the next match for the Championship there ought to be a record amount of interest in that event.
But if the young Colonials do not play for the Blue Riband of billiards, I fancy their public in this country will be pretty well used up for good by the end of next season. It is all a question of the ivory ball. These young players from the Antipodes play a very wonderful game, but the best player at billiards is the man who, playing with ivory balls, wins the Championship against all comers.
I know this view is not favoured in Australia, where there is a deal of support for the contention that composition balls should be used in championship games. But the topic is never given a serious thought in this country, and is never likely to be for many a long year to come.
This does not indicate any prejudice against composition balls. Every player knows how good they are, and every player knows they are not the same as the ivory article. And as we happen to have decided our Championships, both amateur and professional, with ivory balls ever since the contests were first instituted, it is this difference which counts, without any necessity for comparing the relative merits of the ivory and composition ball.
Harverson, as will be seen in another part of the paper, is going strong in South Africa, but reports to hand show that Reece found Lindrum in a four-figure break mood in Australia.
I understand that before we are much older sundry cases of exceptional interest to billiard players are likely to come before the courts. But as, of course, the matters are sub judice I am not hazarding any remarks.
If, however, I penned half of what I have heard in billiard circles of late, I fancy I should be committed for "contempt" for the rest of my natural life.
Have you ever met the man who has no billiards in him? The type is rare, but is seen occasionally, and the other night I saw a man who was as hopeless at billiards as a colour-blind individual would be in an artist's studio. He was an absolute beginner, and quite young. But you could see from the way he shaped that billiards was not his game. I verily believe he might play for years without ever making a twenty break except by accident.
His stance at the table was a model of how not to do it—his bridge was as clumsy and coarse as a lump of meat dumped on the table, and he clutched his cue-butt as if he had a firm hold of the wind-pipe of a deadly enemy.
An older player was trying to give him a few hints, but the man without any sense of billiards was not to be helped. He strove along in his own stolid, stodgy style, and would doubtless have gone from bad to worse had such a thing been possible in his case.
Happily, however, the type is, as I have said, "are." I do not remember seeing more than two really genuine specimens during a fairly lengthy acquaintance with billiards, and I have seen my share of the unusual in billiards —including two ten shots in one game of a hundred up.
Far more common is the player who never improves. You all know the type of player I mean. The strength or weakness of his game is well known to all his associates, and he goes on year in and year out without making the least improvement.
He may even play quite a lot of billiards, and yet never betray any serious symptoms of becoming a better player. Finally, he is usually well aware of his chronic defects, and invariably attributes his ineptitude to almost any cause except the right one.
As a matter of fact, these indifferent players who never improve have simply picked up the game at haphazard. They have taught themselves to play their own game in their own way, and although this may be entertaining, it is not conducive to the best scoring results.
The older they get the worse they get, do these ready made rule-of-thumb players, and when their sight begins to fail they usually drop the cue and settle down on the club lounge to criticise with vigor the players of a younger generation.
There is only one cure for these non-improving players —they must begin their billiards all over again. They can pick up many useful hints from a good handbook on the game, and if in addition they take a few lessons from a professional the era of improvement is almost sure to dawn.
There is, however, one class of non-improving player to whom the foregoing observations do not apply. I allude to the skilled amateur, the man who often makes a break of fifty, and, very occasionally, reaches the magic three figures.
A player of this stamp will often remain in much the same condition of proficiency year after year, but in his case the reason why he does not improve is simply lack of practice.
No doubt he practises sufficiently to retain his form. He must, or he would speedily deteriorate. But he cannot put in enough practice to effect any decided improvement in his play.
He would have to practise for hours on end every day to transform himself into another class of player, to take a decided step forward, and few amateurs have the time and enthusiasm requisite to face the ordeal.
Mention of amateurs reminds me that for some cryptic reason the word "amateur" is often used in a billiard sense to describe an unskilled player. Of course, it means nothing of the sort—it simply means a gentleman who plays for the love of the game.