When listening to CBC’s radio show ‘This or That’ the other day, the host was interviewing a Grade 6 math teacher who would take his class to the pool room twice a week to teach them another way of learning mathematics.
Once there, the teacher and a friend of his would play snooker while the students would observe the various angles of the balls’ trajectories once in motion, thereby improving skills in geometry. Letting them keep score too, was a lesson in math – it needed addition and subtraction.
The teacher was so impressed with the students’ new enthusiasm in his methodology, he asked and got permission to take them to the racetrack as well. He would place a bet to beat the Oddsmaker, while the students would figure out his potential windfall if he picked the winning horse. They even went as far as to tabulate the amount for a place or a show. The teacher had the idea of challenging the students by introducing Exactas and Daily Doubles the upcoming week.
That teacher’s account of the introduction of students to snooker made me reminiscence of a few experiences of my own. One was while in high school in Pembroke. Two or three of us guys always raced to the pool room at every opportunity. If it wasn’t at lunchtime, it was during a skipped class. One day the school vice-principal was heading our way. An alert from the manager gave us time to duck below the table. Not fooled at all, the VP pulled us up and if he wasn’t holding us by the scruff of the neck on the way back to school, it was the scruff of something else.
The pool game of choice was always ‘snooker’. Snooker was played with 15 red balls and six balls of colors other than red, in which a player must shoot one of the red balls, each with a point value of 1, into a pocket before shooting at one of the other balls, with point values of from 2 to 7. Joe Davies, a professional player circa 1930 said, “Snooker is a game of simple shots played to perfection.” But in addition to natural skill, it takes self-confidence, steady hands, an eagle eye and a lot of luck here and there.
After high school and enrolled now in a community college in Ottawa, I met a soulmate. I am talking about snooker of course. Pete and I were so evenly matched and played together for so many hours after school and during school. I swear if we played a hundred series, usually 4 of 7, the vast majority ended in a black ball setting of the 7th game but who won the most series cannot be decided. Where I had the edge on long shots to the corner pockets, he was better at cutting balls into the side pockets. Not to undermine his dexterity, I always thought he got the lucky breaks. He never miscued by not forgetting to chalk up like I did. As well, he always seemed to pick the straightest cue of those available.
Associated often with snooker is a ‘mark’ which is a person identified as an easy target usually being cheated out of money. The same year when another classmate challenged me to a best of three for money and even though the amount was far in excess than I could afford, my vanity said, “Let’s go for it.” We split the first two games. Then in the rubber, his flair took over and I was out-pointed and out hustled. I was a mark for sure. With much humility, I had to ask for time to raise the money I owed him. I did fall victim once more in a Toronto pool hall when a ‘shark” (a hustler) conned me into playing him. He overwhelmed me of course. The money taken from my pocket was jammed into his. This was the second time being a mark but never again.
My only snooker soulmate and I parted ways a few years later but not forever. About 10 years ago he tracked me down. Now a city slicker from Toronto and me back in the village as a local yokel, we readily fleshed out our snooker chronicle on e-mail. “We will have to renew that rivalry,” Pete said. Our latent urges resurfaced and we began to meet a few times each year, mostly in Westmeath. Neither of us had lost the hanker for shooting a game. The closest establishment was in Petawawa. On our first trip, we sized up the sturdy regulation tables with their tough-to-make pockets, first-class rails and cushions and an unmarred felt on the bed of the table.
We started to play and I was hot, taking him in five games. Pete was a little taken aback but I wasn’t so sure about the rematch the next day. Almost the same result, this time 4 games to 2. Over the next year or two we were back at it three more times. Pete was becoming frustrated I could tell. He was probably wondering if he could ever win again. I didn’t think he would either.
He came and thankfully wanted to play snooker once again. Over the next four outings he won all of them. Pete trounced me 4-0 both times. Twice more we played. I lost both 4-2 but I was improving. Our last match-up was after I had cataracts removed in both eyes. I kicked his butt. I don’t know who was more shocked, him or I.
I understood before his next visit he had downloaded videos of pool tournaments held in Britain studying them every night. I gather he’s learned enough to have a steady cue stroke but it is the misaligned hit on the object ball that always does you in. As I said in my last correspondence to him, “Study all you want Bud, I’m ready for you just the way I am.”
Too my chagrin, he seized victories two days in a row. I wasn’t prepared for this setback and couldn’t keep my dejection from showing despite trying to swallow it. I should have studied too.
Clive James said, “Whoever called snooker ‘chess with balls’ was rude, but right.” And it is so. Executing your shot fittingly will position you for three or other four additional shots – not unlike additional a strategic move in chess.
When listening to CBC’s radio show ‘This or That’ the other day, the host was interviewing a Grade 6 math teacher who would take his class to the pool room twice a week to teach them another way of learning mathematics.
Once there, the teacher and a friend of his would play snooker while the students would observe the various angles of the balls’ trajectories once in motion, thereby improving skills in geometry. Letting them keep score too, was a lesson in math – it needed addition and subtraction.
The teacher was so impressed with the students’ new enthusiasm in his methodology, he asked and got permission to take them to the racetrack as well. He would place a bet to beat the Oddsmaker, while the students would figure out his potential windfall if he picked the winning horse. They even went as far as to tabulate the amount for a place or a show. The teacher had the idea of challenging the students by introducing Exactas and Daily Doubles the upcoming week.
That teacher’s account of the introduction of students to snooker made me reminiscence of a few experiences of my own. One was while in high school in Pembroke. Two or three of us guys always raced to the pool room at every opportunity. If it wasn’t at lunchtime, it was during a skipped class. One day the school vice-principal was heading our way. An alert from the manager gave us time to duck below the table. Not fooled at all, the VP pulled us up and if he wasn’t holding us by the scruff of the neck on the way back to school, it was the scruff of something else.
The pool game of choice was always ‘snooker’. Snooker was played with 15 red balls and six balls of colors other than red, in which a player must shoot one of the red balls, each with a point value of 1, into a pocket before shooting at one of the other balls, with point values of from 2 to 7. Joe Davies, a professional player circa 1930 said, “Snooker is a game of simple shots played to perfection.” But in addition to natural skill, it takes self-confidence, steady hands, an eagle eye and a lot of luck here and there.
After high school and enrolled now in a community college in Ottawa, I met a soulmate. I am talking about snooker of course. Pete and I were so evenly matched and played together for so many hours after school and during school. I swear if we played a hundred series, usually 4 of 7, the vast majority ended in a black ball setting of the 7th game but who won the most series cannot be decided. Where I had the edge on long shots to the corner pockets, he was better at cutting balls into the side pockets. Not to undermine his dexterity, I always thought he got the lucky breaks. He never miscued by not forgetting to chalk up like I did. As well, he always seemed to pick the straightest cue of those available.
Associated often with snooker is a ‘mark’ which is a person identified as an easy target usually being cheated out of money. The same year when another classmate challenged me to a best of three for money and even though the amount was far in excess than I could afford, my vanity said, “Let’s go for it.” We split the first two games. Then in the rubber, his flair took over and I was out-pointed and out hustled. I was a mark for sure. With much humility, I had to ask for time to raise the money I owed him. I did fall victim once more in a Toronto pool hall when a ‘shark” (a hustler) conned me into playing him. He overwhelmed me of course. The money taken from my pocket was jammed into his. This was the second time being a mark but never again.
My only snooker soulmate and I parted ways a few years later but not forever. About 10 years ago he tracked me down. Now a city slicker from Toronto and me back in the village as a local yokel, we readily fleshed out our snooker chronicle on e-mail. “We will have to renew that rivalry,” Pete said. Our latent urges resurfaced and we began to meet a few times each year, mostly in Westmeath. Neither of us had lost the hanker for shooting a game. The closest establishment was in Petawawa. On our first trip, we sized up the sturdy regulation tables with their tough-to-make pockets, first-class rails and cushions and an unmarred felt on the bed of the table.
We started to play and I was hot, taking him in five games. Pete was a little taken aback but I wasn’t so sure about the rematch the next day. Almost the same result, this time 4 games to 2. Over the next year or two we were back at it three more times. Pete was becoming frustrated I could tell. He was probably wondering if he could ever win again. I didn’t think he would either.
He came and thankfully wanted to play snooker once again. Over the next four outings he won all of them. Pete trounced me 4-0 both times. Twice more we played. I lost both 4-2 but I was improving. Our last match-up was after I had cataracts removed in both eyes. I kicked his butt. I don’t know who was more shocked, him or I.
I understood before his next visit he had downloaded videos of pool tournaments held in Britain studying them every night. I gather he’s learned enough to have a steady cue stroke but it is the misaligned hit on the object ball that always does you in. As I said in my last correspondence to him, “Study all you want Bud, I’m ready for you just the way I am.”
Too my chagrin, he seized victories two days in a row. I wasn’t prepared for this setback and couldn’t keep my dejection from showing despite trying to swallow it. I should have studied too.
Clive James said, “Whoever called snooker ‘chess with balls’ was rude, but right.” And it is so. Executing your shot fittingly will position you for three or other four additional shots – not unlike additional a strategic move in chess.
