This time we have an away match. Luckily, Short Tony is ill so we are able to persuade him to drive. Still slightly intimidated by the competition, we stand around self-consciously as the table is set up.
The format of this night’s game is pairs. I am not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it means that I have somebody playing with me who might pot some balls; on the other hand, snooker, like sex, is sometimes better on your own – fewer shamefaced apologies are needed, especially after you accidentally leave something unmissable on the table.
Annoyingly, I am drawn first. I send Short Tony coughing and sneezing to the bar to get me some emergency Abbot Ale.
My dad said to me once that a ‘proper’ sport must involve some potential element of self-sacrifice. Running yourself out to save the other batsman, for example. He is wise, and I have always agreed with my dad on everything, apart from the BBC comedy ‘The Thin Blue Line’ which, whatever he says, is shit. The senile old fool. However I have decided that I have a better definition of sport now: a proper sport must contain some potential element of making you look like a knobend in front of a crowd of people. For example the spectacular sliced own-goal. The graceful late-cut that hits your own wicket. In bowls you might send the wood down with the wrong bias on, and everybody will point and laugh and say ‘he’s got the wrong bias!!! Haha!!!’ Etc.
I am quite new to snooker, but the potential knobend factor appears to be very high, which is what makes it such a popular sport. As it is, Big A, with whom I am paired, tries a swerve shot which sends the white away at a ninety degree angle to that intended, and then later hits the pack of reds with the end of the rest. On my part, I specialise in missing the object ball completely and bringing the white back down the table into the pocket. We lose the game.
The current table reads:
Team, Matches played, Points
Other teams, Some, Some
Our team, Some, None
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One says ‘first’ round here, doesn’t one?
Jesus I just got the first non-authorial ‘first’ didn’t I. Can I just point that out, and in doing so take ‘second’ as well?
I, unlike JB of the PSD, am rubbish at Sport, so winning like this is VERY EXCITING for me…
I find one’s play at snooker–or pool, which is what we have around these parts–improves after one drink and deterioriates proportionately to the amount consumed thereafter. But one’s lack of concern about winning increases, so that’s an excellent side effect. Perhaps you simply didn’t drink enough.
“shit”? “senile old fool”? “knobend”? The change of venue has evidently unsettled you, young Jonny – there’s is a freshly-acquired hard edge to your delivery at the moment. I recommend a few days off work to rela-oh no wait you don’t have a job don’t mind me…
Mind you, there’s also the tell-tale return of the properly-spelt “etc” to explain. I reckon it’s some imposter who periodically assaults Jonny, ties him up and sits on him whilst having their wicked way with his blog. Could Mrs Short Tony please pop around and untie him? Unless of course it’s you who’s sitting on him, which might explain the lack of resistance on his part.
I’m completely confused. I go away for a short holiday and the world as I know it has turned awry. And I have to put in my name and email and all that malarky too, and I don’t know them and will have to look them up. Not to mention that I’ve drunk enough to make constant corrections of my typing a dire necessity.
On holiday, I discovered that a French billiard table has no pockets. This is plain stupid, and wrong as well. Quite fun being in France last Saturday night though.
When Short Tony plays does he have to stand on a box?
If you really want to stand out from the crowd in knobendness, you need to hone your skill in the miscue department.
Don’t forget to practice your post cue utterences..
“oh, the tip is loose.”
“there’s a hair on the ball.”
Well I for one take the clumsily implied slight against the temporarily unemployed,made by Ivan TT, very much to heart. Without us, what would all DSS & benefits folk do for a job. Not to mention all those in the employ of the Daily Mail…It’s a noble sacrifice mate.
PS. Sorry for the lack of jokes about Short Tony in this comment. I’m new here.
Richard, I think that’s cricket isn’t it?
Personally I suspect JonnyB is employing clever Norfolk ironical names. Short Tony is seven foot three I’ll bet. Like Little John in Sherwood Forest. That sort of thing.
Sorry, I’m still working out this new format to actually leave a real comment…..
Lisa is brilliant, and exactly correct in her very scientific review of the matter. I find it to be the same in Cricket. I am invincible after one shandy, then miserably inept after two. At that point, all my eptness just runs away to join the circus.
Amazingly Blogspot automatically updated its RSS feeds to your new page!! Beaut!
Oh and Snooker confuses me. Best to play normal pub rules pool instead. Sink your half of the balls then the 8ball. None of this brown* then red then pink then red mumbo jumbo.
*Actual colours mentioned may not necessarily be accurate to snooker…
Give yourself small targets:
Hit a ball, Hit a red, Hit a red when it’s my go etc. etc.
Soon you’ll be grinding out massive breaks of 10 or more before you know it.
Hullo Greenmantle and welcome!!!
Personally I find about 3/4 of a bottle of cider to be the optimum. The problem is stopping there.
The posts are fast out classing the bog on this site….even with its new and improved(?) image…
bog = blog!!!
So does darts count as sport then? It must be a huge self-sacrifice to devote your life standing in a pub throwing arrows and downing pints.
Your sport has such impressive terminology: “late cut,” “sliced own-goal,” “wrong bias” whereas ours sounds like someone admiring a gaggle of strippers: “tight end,” “half back” etc.
Darts is definitely a sport. Because even top professionals will score a 26 in front of a laughing audience.
NAGA, don’t forget the classic, “Did you see that massive kick I got there?”
“Temporarily”, Greenmantle? “Temporarily”?
This is Jonny we’re talking about here. “Temporarily” just isn’t in it…
what you need to do, jonny, is apply your consultativatory genius to the problem and carefully plot out a Jonny-skill vs Pints-drunk action graph, perhaps proxied by the sample variables Balls-sunk vs Pints-sunk, and then carefully draw your audience’s attention to it throughout the game. this will have the effect primarily of distracting them from your shitness so is therefore a good thing.
(not too sure about this Comments-link-at-the-top-of-the-post idea. have twice got to end of post, gone to comment, then thought “oh, he’s disabled comments, i wonder why” before sanity prevailed and a lot of backwards scrolling ensued)
‘especially after you accidentally leave something unmissable on the table’.
Please tell me you didn’t….
You wouldn’t….
Would you?
Mmm. I agree, Sal. The problem is that you can’t edit the template, only the CSS thingies, which I think means that you can’t move it.
It’s driving me mental.
I think you’re being a little harsh on yourself, Jonny – it WAS an away game, when all said and done.
“It’s driving me mental.”
too late?
Oh. Now I see. The comments thing is at the TOP of each post.
hmm. i just had a look at the (resultant/generated) page source. it looks to me that the comments bit comes off the template, rather than the css. (unless there’s some internal generation step that _uses_ another ‘layer’ of css, i spose.)
but i suspect you have to log in (to windows) as administrator and either change the permissions on the template file, or perhaps safer just copy it and change the copy’s permission.
What on EARTH are you talking about, dear boy?!?
Another definintion of a sport is “something that requires the simultaneous exertion of more than one limb.” Snooker fails, along with darts and chess.
Hullo Anonymous Coward and welcome. I have always enjoyed your comments elsewhere – it is good to have you here.
*rant rave foam froth*
you know, the usual
Sir, Your new front elevation is eff ewe kayed, the banner reads (on my screen anyways)
“ivate secret dia”
Now, I am certainly a miserable manky old fart that doesn’t “get” modern art and yuff stuff, but that doesn’t mean that this is not shite.
Hullo Amicus and welcome!!! Thank you for your input. I shall pass it on to the design team (me).
great site with some great snooker ideas – added you to my sites favourites- do you use twitter? x