CHAPTER X

BREAKS

In Chapter III. the term _break_ was explained as a continuous score, or

one made in unbroken succession, and the definition is in a general

sense accurate; nevertheless, it has amongst the better class of players

a higher signification. With them it means a succession of strokes each

of which has been played for, and so played that the next has been

foreseen, calculated, and left as desired by the player. That is to say,

a break to be perfect includes not merely making a stroke, but the

preparation for another to follow. Hence the difficulty of making any

given stroke is enhanced by the need of thought and of modification in

play, in order that the balls may be favourably placed for the next

attempt; but, on the other hand, making the next stroke, that is,

continuing the break, is so much more certain after reasonable

preparation, as in the hands of even a moderate performer to more than

counterbalance the drawback. Indeed, in many cases it is as easy to play

the stroke in the right way as in the wrong, and the eye once educated

selects the proper method without conscious effort, so that the

difficulty referred to is reduced to a minimum, and the advantage

correspondingly preponderates.

[Illustration:

A SERIOUS GAME: NURSING THE BALLS.

]

On the other hand, the great majority of amateurs, for whom the game is

one of chance rather than of skill, either will not or cannot give the

necessary attention to master its rudiments; consequently, they cannot

be said to play for breaks, nor is it desirable that they should make

the pretence. They will score faster by concentrating their attention on

the stroke before them, and by implicitly trusting to Providence for the

next. It is true that they never make a break in the higher sense of the

word; nevertheless, they often succeed in putting together considerable

scores and in defeating better players. For persons of this class—and

let it be clearly understood that there need be no cause for shame in

belonging to it, because many cannot give the time nor afford the money

required for practice and professional supervision—a few general hints

will suffice. What is ridiculous is when they pretend to a knowledge

they do not possess, and ascribe their failures to playing for position,

a crime of which they are wholly guiltless. Beyond these there are an

increasing number of persons who have grasped the idea of playing a

break, who desire to do so legitimately, and who can give some time and

attention to the game, and now and then get a little professional

instruction. Though such are undoubtedly in a higher class than the

former, it by no means follows that they invariably defeat them. Their

breaks though played for may very probably not equal by half the scores

made by the others; indeed, until decided progress has been made the

difficulty before alluded to of providing for the leave will result in

the immediate stroke being missed so often, as to more than neutralise

the benefits which arise from occasional success. In time, however, the

average play and rate of scoring of this higher class will surpass the

performances of those first mentioned to such an extent that they can

give a start of from one-fifth to one-fourth of the game. The best

players of this higher class soon reach the standard of what for want of

a better definition may be called good club play. That is to say, few

players in London clubs can give them points, they make consistent

scoring, and under favourable circumstances may play 250 points in an

hour. This means a considerable aptitude for the game, as well as some

knowledge of it, and more or less education. In fact, a standard has

been attained which will be lost unless kept up by steady work.

Comparatively speaking, very few gentlemen pass beyond this stage, and

when they do they seldom play in clubs. The reasons are obvious; in the

first place they cannot get the tables for sufficiently long games, and

they are liable in club-rooms to all manner of interruption fatal to

continuity of play; they further meet no opponents from whom they have

anything to learn. Hence naturally they prefer to play elsewhere, and

they often attain to a very high standard of excellence in cases

rivalling not without success high-class professional form. It must not

of course be overlooked that certain natural qualities should be

possessed by the student if he is to become a fine player, and also that

men in every class as players may be fortunate enough to enjoy them.

They will always be useful, and will often lead their possessor to

victory when contending with a harder working but less gifted opponent.

The most important of all is perhaps good health, for that covers a

multitude of excellences; good nerve, good sight, quick and sound

judgment, good temper. A good figure, too, is of great advantage, and it

is better to be tall rather than short; yet how many short men have been

and are fine players.

But these advantages will not of themselves suffice to make a player;

intelligent practice and plenty of it are required, and the fewer or

weaker the natural qualities may be the more must they be reinforced by

work—‘_à force de forger en devient forgeron_.’

The system of classifying a player by means of his average break is a

safe one, provided that the average is calculated from a great many

games, and that the other person with whom comparison is made is

averaged from the same number of games played under the same

circumstances. Unless this is attended to results may mislead. The

average break is found by dividing the points scored by the number of

visits to the table. Thus if a player scores a game of 100 in 10

innings, the initial miss of course counting as 1, his average is 10; 20

innings give an average of 5; 25 an average of 4; and so on. This

process if continued over a large number of games will give a result on

which dependence may be placed. But a little consideration will make it

plain that unless the circumstances are very similar comparison between

players based on their averages may be misleading; one table is much

easier than another; one adversary plays an open game and gives many

chances, another plays for safety and leaves no opening time after time;

the size of the balls, the temperature of the room and the light, the

order maintained, and a variety of circumstances will affect the

average, and moreover affect it differently in different men. Hence care

is necessary before assuming as a result of one or two observations that

the average derived from them is trustworthy. Still it is less liable to

mislead than unassisted observation, and a man who desires to play a

match with another and who knows his own average is considerably helped

by taking the latter’s average, even if only from one or two games. If

prudent he will allow a good margin in his favour to meet the

unforeseen, for few things are more difficult to explain than personal

questions concerning play and that most potent factor which we call

luck.

As regards the first of these, it is a matter of common experience that

men play differently—indeed, very differently—with different opponents.

One man’s manner, or style of play, or what not, is aggravating and

irritating to another, and the feeling need not be mutual; yet the man

affected will play many points behind his real game. It is no

exaggeration to say that there may be three men, A, B, and C, equal

players, yet a record over a great number of games might show that

whereas A generally beat B and lost to C, B on his part generally

defeated C. Such an anomaly is of course more likely to be found where

men are acquainted with each other—indeed, without acquaintance personal

peculiarities would not count for so much.

The second subject, that of luck, must be approached with much caution.

One person, generally that one who is enjoying fortune’s favours, will

say that in the long run, as between man and man, luck is even. Indeed,

he may go further and practically deny its existence, affirming, what is

no doubt true, that the laws of nature are not altered or suspended in

favour of any player, and that effect follows cause irrespective of

personality. Another will declare that some men are habitually lucky,

and that with certain players his chances are better than with others.

There is truth probably in both contentions; luck is more likely to be

evenly divided between the players in a long than in a short game, yet

we think no close observer would care to deny that some men seem

habitually lucky at billiards, just as it is generally admitted that

certain persons are good cardholders, and, again, that other men appear

to be more than averagely unfortunate. The better the player the more

ready is he usually to admit his obligations, but as a rule, though no

less valuable, they are not so evident as the palpable fluke of the

weaker performer. They consist of trifles, so to speak, which are summed

up in the phrase ‘a kindly run of the balls,’ and enable the fortunate

man to compile breaks and play with confidence, feeling that nothing can

go wrong, whilst all the time, no evident fluke being made, he is

credited with playing a fine game. His unfortunate antagonist meanwhile

can do nothing right; even when by dint of cue power and science he

pulls off one difficult stroke after another, each leaves a more

difficult one to follow, till failure is inevitable. And this is not all

nor the worst; for whereas Fortunatus on failing to score leaves the

balls safe or nearly so, our unlucky friend can scarcely touch them

without leaving one certainty after another; finally, when attempting

some impossibility, he makes the most undeniable fluke, at which the

spectators smile in appreciation, whilst he is engaged in trying to

solve the problem of why a fluke even should leave nothing to follow.

Luck plays an important part in most breaks, more in those all-round and

what are called ‘out in the country’ than in top-of-the-table play, and

least of all in spot breaks. With professional players it affects the

results of games less evidently, and probably absolutely less than with

amateurs, yet even with the former its power is immense. If they fluke

seldomer, they make far more of each piece of luck. For example, the

writer saw a match of 1,000 up between two very fine players, one of

whom conceded the other a start of 100. He gave the usual miss in baulk,

and his opponent attempted to screw in off the red. He failed

egregiously, but drove the red round the table into a pocket, whilst his

own ball after a strange career settled down beautifully for spot play.

From this opening 100 spots were made, and the game when he broke down

was called love, 404. Though play on both sides was of a very high

order, the lead thus obtained made the final result almost a certainty.

In dealing with breaks, one other matter must be kept in mind; it is

very important, and must influence anything we have to offer in the way

of advice, making that of necessity general rather than particular. This

is, that what is the game for one man is not necessarily the game for

another, and that no very moderate break can be twice played alike even

by the same man. Still there are general principles which cannot be

neglected with impunity, and attention to them will without doubt

improve the chances of the most moderate performers. More experienced

players adhere to them almost unconsciously, and some even are disposed

to push them too far, thus occasionally sacrificing the break in

attempting too minute and too perfect control over the balls. This is a

rock on which many a game is wrecked, specially by players of great

delicacy of touch. A freer player, who recognises the futility of

attempting too great precision, but who at the same time never loses

sight for an instant of the general principles which should guide him,

and whilst obeying them leaves minutiæ to take care of themselves, is

far more likely to steer clear of trouble and to get home first.

A few words may suffice on the subject of nerve, a quality which is

intimately connected with making breaks. All men at times suffer from

nervousness, and its effect is paralysing; judgment, sight, and muscular

control are all affected, in some instances one might say arrested.

Nerve is probably closely allied to courage, yet in many respects it is

quite distinct; and very often a player at billiards who is nervous has

his failure unwarrantably attributed to what is expressively though

inelegantly called funk. Yet the man is no more a coward than the

hundreds are who if called upon to make a speech suddenly find their

tongues if not their ideas paralysed; he would face danger, moral or

physical, with average intrepidity, but still under certain

circumstances his play breaks down and he collapses. In so far as the

question is between man and man—one person’s nerve being greater than

another’s—we have nothing useful to say: one man is taller or healthier

or stronger than another, so much the better for the fortunate man; but

much that is set down by thoughtless spectators to fear is in reality

want of confidence, which happily may be supplied by intelligent work.

That, with ordinary care in living and with a resolution never to play

for stakes which cannot be lost with complete equanimity, is the remedy

which will be found most effectual.

Allied to this gain of confidence is the consideration of whether

beginners should select for purposes of play a difficult or an easy

table. The question is open to argument, and perhaps what may suit one

man may not suit another. But judging from personal experience and from

professional advice respecting training for a match, we should counsel

commencing to learn on an easy rather than on a difficult table. Many

persons have doubtless experienced the feeling that when they have made

20, 30, 40, 50, or some greater number of points, they are on the way to

making a break, and therefore must be careful lest they should fail. The

thought is fatal, and is quickly followed by collapse. The best

prevention is to become accustomed to making such breaks, and that is

most easily managed on a table where the pockets are not very difficult.

As one’s powers improve so may tighter pockets be encountered, but if

the same game be played the limits of divergence of tables must be

small. Half an inch or less in the width of a pocket necessitates a very

material alteration of the game, which need not at this moment be

further particularised.

A point of interest concerning breaks which may just be mentioned is

that, although the tables and method of scoring in the French game are

different from ours, yet the standard attained by amateurs is, compared

with professional form, much the same in each country. In a rough way

professionals may be said to score from ten to fifteen times more than

amateurs: that is, of course, comparing class with class in this way; an

indifferent amateur occasionally makes 25 or 30 points, so a

professional of not very high class may sometimes make 250 to 450,

whilst the amateur who can occasionally make 100 to 150 is to his

fellows what the professional is who can score from 1,000 to 2,000. A

series of 100 cannons is a very fine break for a French amateur, so may

100 points be said to be a long break for an English amateur, though

there are a few gentlemen of whom it may fairly be said that such a

break is by no means unusual; they, however, have decidedly passed from

amateur to professional form.

Now as regards playing for a break the way for instruction is cleared by

the system on which practice has been recommended and strokes have been

explained in previous chapters. A careful reader cannot fail to have

noticed that in almost every type of stroke described, the position of

the ball or balls after the stroke has been considered in a way second

only to actual execution. The application of the knowledge thus acquired

must chiefly be left to the intelligence of the player, who will, when

several strokes present themselves, at once select either the easiest,

or that which promises to leave most, according as he plays for a score

or for the break. Still a few remarks may be of use to the very large

class of players who cannot undertake close study of the game, and if

they seem to more advanced readers self-evident and unnecessary, we must

crave their indulgence and try to be brief. An important point to keep

in view is as far as possible after a losing hazard to leave the balls

within the parallel lines P M, Q N (see Diagram I.), and then they will

usually be well in play. Very often, however, one of the balls will be

left beyond these lines and virtually safe; when that is so, an

opportunity should be watched for, and may sometimes be made, to bring

the other ball near to it, so that by means of a cannon it may be moved

from its unprofitable situation.

Thus if the result of a few strokes has been to leave ball 3 out of play

near a side cushion, ball 2 being near the centre of the table and ball

1 in hand, the game is to continue the losing hazards till ball 2 is so

left that the cannon on ball 3 bringing it into play is easy. Suppose

ball 2 to have been left exactly on the central longitudinal line of the

table, in which case it is clear that the losing hazards into the top

pockets are exactly alike. Yet, if ball 3 is in the position shown, play

into one pocket will result in leaving the balls together, whilst if the

other pocket be thoughtlessly selected the balls will be separated.

First as a typical stroke let ball 2 be placed on the centre spot; the

losing hazard into either top pocket is a known practice stroke (see

Chapter V. p. 164). Place ball 1 for the half-ball hazard, and play the

stroke in the usual way, when ball 2 will stop near the left middle

pocket, and it is probable that either a hazard or cannon will be left.

The one serious danger of the stroke is that ball 2 should run into the

middle pocket and the break be lost; even then a miss in baulk would

leave its player with the best of the deal; besides, the mishap can be

guarded against by being careful not to play on ball 2 fuller than

half-ball, and with rather less strength than is required if a middle

pocket loser were desired. But if the hazard be made into the right top

pocket, then ball 2, after contact with cushions 6 and 1, would stop

near the right middle pocket on the opposite side of the table from ball

3.

This type of stroke or break should be played as indicated, so long as

ball 2 strikes cushion 2 first; when ball 2 is so far up the table that

(when the half-ball losing hazard is played) it strikes cushion 1 first,

then the hazard should be made into the right top pocket. This will be

at once seen by placing ball 2 on the pyramid spot, ball 3 being as

before. Place ball 1 on the left spot of the =Ｄ=, and play the usual

half-ball hazard into the right corner pocket; ball 2 will return from

cushion 1 towards ball 3. Place ball 1 on the right spot of the =Ｄ=, and

play into the left corner pocket, and ball 2 will return towards cushion

2 away from ball 3.

[Illustration:

Diagram I.

]

Again, with ball 3 as before, but ball 2 below the middle pockets, with

a hazard from baulk right and left, ball 1 in hand. If the right middle

pocket loser be played, place ball 1 for a fine rather than for a full

stroke, in order that ball 2 may be cut towards ball 3; if the left

middle pocket be selected, place ball 1 for a full rather than for a

fine stroke, so that ball 2 after impact with cushion 1 may return to

the left side of the table, and admit of bringing ball 3 into play.

[Illustration:

Fig. 1

]

An excellent rule is to play known strokes in preference to inventions

of the moment. Those who have practised the examples previously

recommended will know with tolerable accuracy where ball 2 is likely to

stop, at any rate in the commonest sort of plain strokes, and it is well

to profit by this knowledge. Thus with the balls as shown in fig. 1,

where 2 is the red, and 3, 3 are positions for the opponent’s ball, it

is better, at any rate for those who are not considerably advanced, to

play the half-ball losing hazard into the left corner pocket, than to

endeavour to secure a chance of a top of the table break by making the

cannon. For the hazard is more certain to most persons than the cannon,

and if the stroke is made balls 2 and 3 must almost inevitably be left

in play. Similarly in the positions shown in fig. 2, although the

cannons from 1 to 2 and 3 are perfectly easy, yet it is better to play

the known losing hazard 1 from 2 (which is supposed to be the red on the

spot) into the right corner pocket. Ball 2 will then be left over or

near the right middle pocket, into which a hazard will be left, or if

the stroke has been played without enough strength there may remain a

cannon from which the balls should be gathered at the top of the table.

[Illustration:

Fig. 2

]

With balls 2 and 3 so left that there are plain losing hazards into the

middle pockets whilst at the same time, ball 1 being in hand, a cannon

is as easy or easier than either hazard, there is some difference of

opinion as to which stroke a moderate performer should play. In case of

being within two points of game the cannon may be chosen as rather the

easiest, but except in that case we recommend playing the losing

hazards. For at the worst there are two easy strokes on the table

against one if the cannon were played, totalling five against two. If,

however, the balls were so placed that one of them was too far up the

table for a plain hazard, then it is possible that the cannon might pay

better.

[Illustration:

Fig. 3

]

For the class of players to whom these few hints are specially offered

it is, we believe, sound advice to say—do not vary your strength of play

greatly, accustom yourself to a free No. 1 or No. 2, and do not

ordinarily depart from it; avoid extremes of strength and the use of

side, specially with winning hazards; master the plain half-ball stroke,

and many other things shall be added to your score. Do not concern

yourself more than you can help about your adversary’s good or your own

bad luck, and do not think it incumbent to explain for the instruction

of spectators (some of whom at any rate presumably know more of the game

and understand it better than yourself) the reasons of your failures.

Now in addition to the players just referred to—and they form the great

majority—there are those who can devote considerable time and attention

to the game, who can play the spot stroke in the sense of knowing how

each position should be treated, and can usually make from five to ten

spots, besides having a fair general notion of the game. Such persons

represent the better class of club play, and from among them at rare

intervals a few appear whose form approaches that of the professional.

For their special behoof little need be said; they have acquired and

practise unconsciously the principles already recommended; in order to

improve in the matter of breaks they must work on professional lines,

and may, within the limits which their powers prescribe, follow

professional play. That is to say, it is not desirable to try to

prescribe a separate style of break for persons who are fairly grounded

in the grammar of the game, even though they may never attain great

excellence. As a rule, they owe the length of their scores, which are

often considerable, to small genuine breaks connected together by

providential bounty; every now and then in a score they are obliged to

give sole attention to making the stroke, and what is left is therefore

due to luck, which may be good or bad. The truth of this becomes

apparent if they are set to a break which must be thought out and which

does not often admit of adventitious aid, such as the spot stroke or a

nursery of cannons. They will rarely make more than ten or twenty

consecutive strokes, and how often not more than five. Nevertheless,

their profit will lie in trying to follow the lead of the masters,

modified, as may be required, by personal proficiency.

[Illustration:

Preparing to play behind the back: _the right way_

]

And here, lest it may be justly said that the interests of the vast

majority of billiard-players and of our readers are in danger of being

somewhat neglected in favour of a small minority who alone may

reasonably aspire to professional form, we have much pleasure in

introducing a paper by Mr. A. H. Boyd, who is well qualified to deal

with the subject, on ‘Every-day Billiards.’ From his paper, which is

commended to the careful attention of readers, it may be gathered that

he has successfully passed through many of the sorrows of the

self-taught student of the game, and is now enabled to attain to a

measure of his legitimate aspirations.

EVERY-DAY BILLIARDS

BY A. H. BOYD

As a great deal of the instruction contained in this volume may be too

scientific for the ordinary amateur, it has occurred to me that a few

simple hints, from a moderate player, who has experienced, and is daily

meeting, difficulties which possibly a brilliant performer hardly

understands, may be of some assistance to those who, like himself, are

fond of the game, appreciate its fascinating variety, and are honestly

anxious to improve.

The correct method of playing almost every stroke that is likely to

occur in a game has been so lucidly laid down in previous chapters, that

my efforts will be limited to pointing out where moderate players are

apt to go astray, and to dealing with a few salient points, in the hope

that I may be able to show what to avoid, rather than what to do or how

to do it.

By the moderate player I mean the average player as found in the average

club billiard-room, a man who is capable of running up 20 or 30, and who

has on certain happy days passed the Rubicon of 50.

I believe the use, and particularly the abuse, of the expression ‘power

of cue’ has led to more slipshod play, and done more harm to young

players, than anything else. In ninety-nine billiard-rooms out of a

hundred a steady, unpretending player, who makes simple strokes with

tolerable certainty and with fair strength, is considered a far inferior

performer to the gentleman who plays _every_ hazard with side on his

ball, who delights in extravagant screw shots, but who is supremely

indifferent to the subsequent career of the object ball. ‘Power of cue’

unfortunately, as understood by ordinary billiard-players, means _want

of command_ of cue. The mere power of imparting side, or making screws,

though valuable enough in itself, falls very far short of ‘power of cue’

as rightly understood. The real meaning of the expression is the ability

to combine the various elements, such as side, screw, follow, or stab

with varying strengths, so as to convert a forcing shot into a soft

screw, or a gentle stroke into a fast and fine shot, always with a view

to improved position.

Without the power of control or combination, the power of imparting side

may be and very frequently is positively harmful. An enormous number of

young players with a certain amount of aptitude for the game become so

enamoured of this showy gift that they insensibly drift into the habit

of playing every stroke, however simple, with side, and become

absolutely incapable of striking their ball in the centre, thus

increasing their difficulties at the outset. It is comparatively easy to

strike a ball in the centre as often as may be desired; it is next to

impossible to strike it on the side in the same place a dozen times

running. Hence, players who habitually use side constantly miss simple

shots, because the amount of side they put on is continually and

involuntarily varying.

The worst case I ever met was that of a man who had allowed the habit to

grow upon him so far that he could only strike his ball on the right

side. The natural consequence was that half the table was practically

closed to him: he would not attempt a jenny into the left-hand top

pocket, and his long losing hazards were of course very uncertain. Many

others there are, however, who, even when playing from hand, evince a

decided preference for playing to a particular side of the table, and it

is evident that, although possibly they don’t realise it themselves,

they have more command of one side than of the other. If this

inclination is felt, it should be fought down at once by playing for the

opposite side of the table; and a little resolute discipline of this

kind will soon eradicate the fault.

Curiously enough, moderate players rarely use side for following hazards

near a cushion, although a liberal use of it converts an extremely

difficult stroke into a comparatively easy one. The explanation, I

imagine, is, that when they began billiards, they were told to hit their

ball high in order to follow, and it is of course a difficult operation

to put side on a ball that is struck near the top. They, therefore, do

not choose to increase the risk of a foul by aiming at the side of the

top, and take some pains to strike their ball on or near the vertical

centre line. Did they but know it, the same pains expended upon the same

object, when playing ordinary losing hazards, would rapidly improve

their game.

It is easily understood that from near a cushion a pocket is a very

small target, and the margin of error in aim reaches the irreducible

minimum. So that this follow is rightly considered by moderate players

who play it in the way I have described as difficult, dangerous, and

hardly worth attempting. If, however, there is plenty of reverse side on

the ball, and it strikes anywhere on the shoulder of the pocket, it is

sure to go in.

Another fault very commonly committed is, where there are two ways of

playing a stroke, men take the way they fancy rather than the way which

will pay them best. Nothing stands more in the way of improvement than

this habit. Very likely games may be lost by trying for a little more,

and spectators are often too severe on what they consider as want of

proper caution. But let them say what they like. If a player is honestly

anxious to improve, he can afford to let the particular game take care

of itself, and even if he lose a dozen games running, patient practice

will bring its reward in the end.

I do not wish to be misunderstood. I am not advocating ‘playing to the

gallery,’ merely for the sake of bringing off a showy stroke, but

playing out on purpose to try for position. There is, of course, a time

for everything. In a match involving a stake, or when competing in a

club handicap, a player should throw no chance away, and play carefully

and cautiously, especially near the end of the game _with the lead_. But

in an ordinary game he should play out and try whatever comes. Though

many shillings may be thus lost, it is comforting to reflect that they

are really the fees for learning, and they will ultimately prove to have

been well spent. Nothing is more melancholy than to watch a couple of

men who have devoted many hours daily for many years to their favourite

game, poking about with safety misses, white winners and double baulks,

and spinning out a game of 100 to a weary length. In all those years

they have not added one stroke to their battery, and they will go on to

the end of the chapter, unimproved and unimproving, confirmed

cushion-crawlers.

Just as at whist, there is such a thing as playing to the score, so

there is a time to be bold as well as a time to be cautious; and many a

match has been lost by over-caution. I once saw a game in a club

tournament, where one of the players was immeasurably superior to the

other, and, although he had given his opponent a long start, he had

caught him 100 from home. He then took it into his head that his proper

tactics were to play for safety on every occasion. The result was what

might have been expected. His antagonist took a clearer view of the

situation, saw that the game was desperate, and played out every time

after the other’s safety stroke. There were many occasions when the

better player, if he had taken the least risk, would probably have run

up a nice break, and possibly have finished the game; but he waited and

waited, and his antagonist got home. Clearly, with 100 to be made and

playing on level terms, his proper course would have been to play his

usual game, when his superior skill must have brought him in an easy

winner. A player must remember that it is not enough to hamper the

enemy’s chances of scoring; he has _got to make the points_ himself.

The four-handed game, which is a very popular institution with the

cautious, is one of the very worst schools for a young player with any

enterprise. He will be drilled into everlasting safety, and if he is at

all ambitious of playing a good game, he should avoid it as he would the

plague. On the other hand, he should never lose an opportunity of

playing with better players; for, although at first he will find the

rapid scoring of his opponent very disconcerting, still, in time, the

feeling will wear off, and the necessity for doing better will of itself

induce improved play.

The tactics of the over-cautious school lead one to consider the

question of ‘leaves’ as generally understood. The hard-hitting,

slap-dash player, after having sent all the balls flying in various

directions, will often bitterly bewail his luck if nothing is left after

what he considers a brilliant stroke; and amateurs are prone to look for

this chance-leaving as a fairly earned reward of their skill. The less

one looks for this sort of thing the better. A leave which has been

carefully planned and successfully engineered is more meritorious than a

dozen of such, and will, in the end, bring a more certain reward.

Nothing is more mortifying to the player who is honestly trying to place

the balls than to find, as he often will at first, that time after time

he has just failed, perhaps by a few inches, to attain the desired

position; while a hard-hitting, careless friend is merrily scoring all

round the table after strokes which have apparently hopelessly scattered

the balls. Curiously enough, a large share of this particularly

exasperating form of luck falls to the lot of the careless. I once saw a

man make 62 without a fluke as popularly so-called, and yet every leave

was the result of accident rather than of design. This is what one must

be prepared for, and suffer gladly. Don’t be cast down or disgusted if

the adversary drives a ball anyhow to the baulk end and finds an easy

losing hazard left. It is all the more annoying because one cannot call

this sort of thing by its true name—viz. a fluke.

Another form of annoyance is the fluked safety, which will sometimes run

almost through an afternoon. It is very hard to bear, especially when

the adversary takes spurious credit for playing a wonderfully safe game.

If under these trying circumstances the temper can be kept, things will

not only right themselves eventually, but a reputation for good-nature

and saintliness may be earned.

That these things worry is not wholly discouraging. Unless one is

absolutely indifferent to the game they must be felt, and the keener one

is the more must their injustice be resented. But, after all, they teach

patience and coolness—two very valuable allies—which have many a time

pulled a game out of the fire, after it has seemed utterly and

irretrievably lost.

Careful students of Chapter V. will have realised that perhaps the most

important thing for the learner to devote his attention to is the

winning hazard; but that stroke, at once the most difficult and the most

important at billiards, is sadly neglected by the vast bulk of amateurs.

Seldom, or never, is a break of over 40 made which does not involve a

winning hazard, which must be accomplished in order to continue the

break. All strokes are largely a matter of confidence, and this is

especially true of the winning hazard. Unless it is played with the

confidence which practice alone can give, the stroke seldom succeeds.

Here pool comes in as an excellent training school. It is wearisome

drudgery practising these strokes simply; but in the friendly rivalry of

pool, with the added zest of a prospective sixpence, the winning hazard

becomes quite attractive.

In a long spot-barred break a spectator, if his attention has never been

directed to this point before, will be astonished at the number of times

the red is holed, and, of course, the immense possibilities of the

‘all-in’ game are obvious to everyone. It is the spot practice, and

nothing else, which has given the leading players their complete mastery

over winning hazards; and though it is the fashion nowadays for even the

most moderate players to declare ‘the spot’ tiresome to watch and not

worth their attention, yet a little quiet spot practice will not be

thrown away. Although the learner may not attain sufficient proficiency

to justify him in going for the spot in an important game, still he will

pick up almost unconsciously a notion of the right place to strike the

object ball for a winning hazard, and, in addition, one or two little

wrinkles as to ‘touch’ and ‘strength’ which will stand him in good stead

in other parts of the table.

Another great point in winning hazard practice is that it directs the

learner’s attention, forcibly and practically, to the dangers and

disadvantages of misapplied side. In the first place, the hazard itself

is rendered more difficult, and repeated failures will compel a learner

to take pains to strike his own ball in the centre. And, in the second

place, the run of ball 1, after impact with ball 2, will be checked or

accelerated, as the case may be, to an extent which may lead to

disaster. Young pool players, when playing from baulk on a ball at the

top of the table with their player in hand, frequently experience the

mortification of seeing their ball, after an unsuccessful shot, come

back into baulk a helpless prey to the next player. It may very well be

that they have not put too much force into their stroke, but they have

probably struck it off the centre. In this, one of the commonest of pool

strokes, it is of the last importance to avoid putting on side.

It is worth remembering, too, that it is not necessary, as so many

amateurs appear to think, to make all winning hazards at forcing

strength. As a matter of fact, the pocket is considerably larger for a

stroke played at drop strength, although of course it requires some

nerve to play the hazard in that fashion.

Losing hazards have been so exhaustively dealt with in Chapter V. that

nothing need be said here concerning them; but there are two faults very

commonly committed by amateurs which are fatal to accurate hazard

striking, and the first of these is pointing the cue at one part of ball

1 and striking another. Some men habitually aim with the cue-tip

pointing over the top of their ball, others again with the tip almost

touching the cloth, no matter whether the stroke they intend to play be

a follow or a screw, a centre stroke or a stroke with side. Those who

are familiar with golf are well aware that in those places where

grounding the club behind the ball is not allowed it is exceedingly

difficult to hit the ball cleanly and truly, because there is nothing to

guide the aim. Similarly, at billiards, if the cue be aimed exactly at

the point on the ball that it is intended to strike, the stroke is more

likely to be accurately delivered than if it be pointing at some other

spot or be brought down or up, to the left or to the right, at the last

moment. It is a rare occurrence to find a moderate player who aims as he

should aim.

The second fault is the widespread belief among inexperienced players,

that in order to impart the maximum amount of side to a ball the cue

should move in a horizontal curve—that is to say, that believers in this

strange theory (and they are legion), when they are attempting a stroke

involving, say, right side, sweep the point of their cue to the right as

they deliver the stroke. Students of Chapters III. to VI. will readily

see that the theory is absolutely fallacious, and fully understand that,

the straighter the cue is pointing along the path of ball 1 or parallel

to it, the more power it has over the ball. But, as the theory is firmly

maintained, it may be worth while to draw attention to it in order to

emphasise the instructions contained in Chapter III.

In most billiard-rooms the balls receive somewhat severe treatment, and

of necessity are constantly travelling to the makers to be adjusted or

turned down. Therefore, it often happens that they are smaller and

lighter than they should be. Now, such balls are more easily sent flying

up and down the table, and they are not quite so liable to catch in the

jaws of a pocket and stop outside as full-sized ones. Hence they are

popular with free hitters; but in other ways they are very

objectionable. Being light, they are more liable to turn aside over any

slight obstruction on the table; and, as they start away after contact

faster than heavy balls, it is a difficult matter to play quietly with

them and keep the balls together. It may be that at first, with heavy

full-sized balls, the breaks are neither so many nor so long; but

perseverance will result in more command over the heavy balls than was

possible with the light ones. The very fact that continual slogging with

heavy balls is arduous work, and distinctly damaging to the top of the

cue, will of itself induce a quieter style of play and more thought for

the hereafter.

Simple as it may seem, very few men know how to practise. It is a common

experience to walk into a billiard-room and find a player idly knocking

the balls about—now a losing hazard, now a cannon, all too rarely a

winning hazard, with no method, and with no attention to the run of the

balls. Nothing is really more useless. To practise properly, one should

have a distinct idea of what is wanted and how to set about getting it.

Chapter VIII. clearly shows the great merit of the spot stroke as a

means of practice. The combination of strength and accuracy is most

important training. One or other position will probably prove more

difficult than the rest. Practise that particular stroke till it is

mastered—_i.e._ till not only is the hazard made, but position is

obtained for the next stroke.

Many, of course, there must be who have not got the time or the patience

for such practice as this, and to them I offer an alternative. Spot the

red, put the white on the middle spot (the position after the balls have

touched), play from the =Ｄ=, and see what the break will run to. At the

outset the white long loser is an admirable practice stroke, for it must

be played freely, and its successful manipulation will engender a

feeling of confidence in long losers which will be worth a great deal.

There are some players who find when they make this hazard that the

object ball runs perilously near to the middle pocket; others find with

their normal stroke that the ball usually strikes the side cushion about

a foot or eighteen inches above the middle. Players of the former class

generally gain position off two cushions; players of the latter class

off three; but in each case the object is to leave a cannon up the table

on to the red on the spot.

Long losers from baulk are most excellent practice, and would be more

popular were it not for the nuisance of having to go and fetch the ball

from the other end of the table every time. The new tramway arrangement,

patented by Messrs. Orme & Co., whereby the ball returns automatically

from the top pockets to the bottom of the table, does away with this

drawback, and is therefore a distinct advantage where there is no

marker.

There is an exercise, invented I believe by a weather-bound golfer, in

which the red is spotted on the centre spot, and the player starts from

the =Ｄ= and tries to hole the red in all the pockets in turn in as few

strokes as possible. The red is re-spotted on the centre spot every time

it is holed, and the player plays on each occasion from where his ball

has run to. This game is really excellent practice, for it involves

accurate winning hazard striking, combined with delicate strength and a

knowledge of angles. I believe that 20 is considered what golfers would

call the ‘bogey’ score; but I fancy it is placed a little too high, and

I think 16 would be nearer the mark. As the learner improves he can

lower the bogey to suit himself. To sum up, the whole art of successful

amateur billiard-playing is almost all contained in the accurate

delivery of the cue, division of the object ball being a comparatively

simple matter.

[Illustration:

Preparing to play behind the back: _the wrong way_

]

Chapters III., IV., V., and the valuable memorandum contributed by Mr.

Pontifex, should be carefully studied. The learner will find that if he

once masters cue delivery many other things will be added unto him. He

will discover that it is just as easy to screw to any angle, when the

balls are close together, by playing softly as by hitting hard, and will

learn the valuable fact that screw and side are easier to apply softly,

because with a gentle stroke he can make more certain of striking where

he intends, and thus he will have found out the whole secret of screw.

It is the spin on ball 1 which causes it to spring off square, and the

force of impact has comparatively little to do with altering the angle

of deviation.

And yet I fear that no printed instruction will teach everything in the

way of making strokes, because the sense of touch enters so largely into

the question of execution. A good player with a cue in his hand can show

more in an hour than the best book will in a month; but the former is

not always attainable, whilst the latter may be the student’s constant

companion. Hence it will be seen how advantageous it is to play as much

as possible with better players, and also to practise carefully the

strokes recommended in a sound manual.

* * * * *

By all who are interested in the higher aspects of the game the

following memoranda by Mr. R. H. R. Rimington-Wilson on breaks

generally, and on top-of-the-table play specially, will be welcomed. He

brings to the subject great experience, gathered from every available

source, and to masterly execution adds soundness and accuracy of

judgment, which give peculiar value to his remarks.

SOME NOTES ON ‘THE TOP-OF-THE-TABLE′ GAME

BY R. H. R. RIMINGTON-WILSON

No practice by oneself at billiards can be more fascinating than this

modern development at the top of the board; it has also this advantage,

that in the absence of a marker it does not often entail journeys to far

distant pockets in search of a ball. Furthermore, it is an art which

makes as many calls on the head as it does on the hand and eye. Many

little problems have to be solved, and many a solution, sufficiently

obvious when pointed out, fails to present itself after months of

solitary work.

The following notes presuppose the student to be well beyond the novice

stage, and well up in the ‘out in the country’ game. He must have

thoroughly mastered moderately easy short winning hazards, with and

without side, also slow screws off fine and full balls under the same

conditions. Failure in the former is absolutely fatal, and execution in

the latter essential to due control over the object ball.

It is hardly necessary to say that a good spot stroke performer starts

with a great advantage, many of the strokes being spot strokes pure and

simple. Conversely, it follows that a good top-of-the-table player must

of necessity be a fair spot stroke performer. To anyone who is uncertain

of his short winning hazards there is only one course open—to work at

them till he can do them, or to leave the top-of-the-table game severely

alone. Breaking down at this game is usually even more expensive than

failure at the ‘spot,’ as in the latter case all three balls are not

necessarily together at the top.

To a master of the art there is no question but that this method of

scoring presents the easiest and quickest way of making a break. Given

the requisite knowledge, the strokes are generally not very difficult,

and there is the enormous advantage of being close to the work—in

addition to which the player adopting this style of game is much less

affected by the conditions of the table.

Nursery cannons are of course a great feature of play at the top of the

table, and must be made a separate study. They are much easier than is

generally supposed, and require really more knowledge than execution,

especially with the push stroke allowed as in the English game. The

writer has several times seen fifty consecutive cannons made with no tip

on the cue, which is strong evidence in favour of not much execution

being required.

The chief difficulty lies (1) in getting position; (2) in turning the

corners. Getting past the middle pocket is rarely attempted, and would

generally defeat the best players. It is almost impossible to illustrate

these ‘nurseries’ by means of diagrams, as often a difference of a

hair’s breadth in position will determine the way of playing the stroke.

To anyone wishing to make a study of nursery cannon play Vignaux’s ‘Le

Billard’ (Paris, Delarue), an admirable work on the French game, well

illustrated with diagrams, is strongly recommended.

Now, unless the opponent has been kind, before one can play the

top-of-the-table game it is obviously necessary to get there;

consequently diagrams are given to show some of the readiest means of

obtaining the desired position. These do not, of course, pretend in any

way to exhaust the subject, but merely indicate the general idea. Each

diagram is accompanied by some simple instructions for play.

It will be seen that the commonest mode of getting position is by the

long cannon (Diagram II.), played either to collect the balls in the

region of the spot, or—with a slight variation of position—to double the

red towards the top pocket, driving the opponent’s ball spotwards.

While mentioning this cannon it will not be out of place to call

attention to a very important point, one of general application, but

especially valuable in this type of stroke.

It is of the first importance that after cannoning the _striker’s_ ball

(ball 1) be left in a commanding position; in fact, in such a position

that a score will almost certainly be left wherever the other two balls

may come to rest at the top of the table.

In a general way this is effected by two opposite methods. We will first

consider a case where the cannon ball (ball 3) lies well away from a

cushion, and in an uncramped position, which it would be desirable for

the striker’s ball to occupy. In this case the cannon should be made

dead full on ball 3. Ball 1 will be stopped comparatively dead, and will

occupy the other’s place, which is what is required.

It follows from this that in the event of ball 3 being close to a

cushion or in some other undesirable place, the opposite method should

be employed, and the full ball cannon avoided.

There are cases, of course, when it is desirable to cannon full on a

ball touching or nearly touching a cushion, with a view of utilising the

kiss, but this is not the class of stroke under discussion.

The main point it is hoped the previous remarks may convey is, the great

importance of leaving the striker’s ball in a commanding position. The

player’s attention is called to this as one of the chief points to be

considered in this class of stroke.

Reference will be made in the diagrams to this method of play.

In conclusion, one word of warning. On arrival at the top of the table

do not straightway become a player with one idea—to stop there.

Remember that a little exercise ‘in the country’ is often required, and

often more profitable than a risky attempt to prolong the stay ‘at

home.’ The return home is by no means hopeless. Not only is there every

chance of it if a man is in good form, but under any circumstances no

undue hurry should be shown to get position either for the spot or for

play at the top of the table. It is better to plod along quietly with

long losers and ordinary strokes till a favourable conjunction of the

balls presents itself than to risk failure by attempting to get

immediate position by means of complicated strokes full of

compensations. No doubt if they come off successfully the triumph is

great, but the method is unsound, and will not bear the test of time; it

will fail far oftener than the less ambitious mode, which waits a bit on

fortune, instead of trying to force her favours. It is usually the

comparative novice who is in the greatest hurry—‘_Chi va piano va sano,

e chi va sano va lontano._′

Probably the most favourable open position for commencing the

top-of-the-table game is when the red is on the spot, the striker’s ball

in position for an easy spot hazard, and the opponent’s ball in close

proximity to the red, above or below it, and more or less in the central

line of the table. We may borrow a French expression and call this

position the _position mère_. This position in the hands of an expert is

most prolific, admitting as it does of a system of play consisting

ideally of alternate winning hazards and cannons, but varied by

‘nurseries’ and incidental play. The great feature of the modern game is

to obtain and regain this _position mère_.

The diagrams that follow are given with a view of illustrating some of

the commonest methods of leading up to this position and suggesting

others.

In supplementing previous remarks the student’s attention is invited to

the importance of being constantly on the look out for an opportunity of

playing the opponent’s ball spotwards when there is a probability of the

succeeding stroke being a red winner. Even in the event of a red loser

being left—instead of the winner as intended—the opponent’s ball can

hardly occupy a more favourable position, as the balls probably can be

gathered at the top of the table in the course of a stroke or two.

It will be noticed that in the examples given the play recommended is of

the simplest and most natural description, calling for a little

forethought, but for little or no execution. They also in nearly every

case represent the simplest way of leaving a break even to a player who

is not a proficient at the top of the table.

[Illustration:

Diagram II.

Remember to be full on ball 3 with the view of stopping your own ball.

Compare also Diagram p. 177.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram III.

Play half-ball on the red, driving it towards the right-hand top

pocket. Full

on ball 3 to stop your own ball and drive it spotwards. With ball 2,

the white ball, be careful not to play too hard for fear of losing it.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram IV.

Half-ball on ball 2, sending it spotwards, nearly full on ball 3,

which will stop

your own ball and leave it near the pyramid spot.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram V.

Be careful to be fine enough on ball 2 to keep it at the top of the

table; a half-ball

would bring it down the table out of play.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram VI.

(I.) Make the loser off the white, driving it spotwards. (II.) Hole

the red, and

get position either by the slow drop or off the top cushion,

preferably the latter.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram VII.

(I.) Make the loser off the white, leaving it near the spot.

(II.) As in previous diagram.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram VIII.

(I.) Make the white loser gently. (II.) Hole the red as before.

]

[Illustration:

Diagram IX.

Screw back on to the white, bringing the red round. With the white as

object

ball, care must be taken in this class of stroke not to hole it in the

top

pocket.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 4.—Play to cannon full and slowly on ball 3, leaving the red

winner and\white near the spot. With balls 1 and 2 further apart,

the strength would be too difficult to play as here given, and the

play would be as in Diagram No. I.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 5.—Play the white spotwards and be full on the red.

]

The diagrams and remarks just given having led us up to the top of the

table, those that follow will attempt to illustrate on broad lines some

of the play when there. Niceties cannot be touched upon, and it is

thought more convenient to give individual strokes of common occurrence

rather than the consecutive strokes of a break.

In some cases the stroke given might be played differently, in order to

collect the balls for nursery cannons; but as the diagrams are intended

to illustrate the more open game, the position for nurseries will not as

a rule be taken into account. In other instances the stroke given admits

of different treatment from that shown, the choice being frequently

determined by the player’s preference for a particular class of stroke.

The chief aim of the diagrams is to suggest ideas.

[Illustration:

Fig. 6.—Play ball 2 behind the spot, cannon full on ball 3 (the red),

leaving\the winner, which when made with a stab leaves the _position

mère_. Guard against losing the red first stroke, in which case the

break would very likely be lost.

]

A common fault in playing at the top of the table consists in

endeavouring to bring the balls together, when the better game would be

to leave them farther apart. In playing to bring them together a dead

cover often results, very possibly bringing a promising break to a

close. Of course in many instances to bring them together would be the

game, but frequently it is not, and the reader should be on his guard

against the above-mentioned cause of breakdown.

[Illustration:

Fig. 7.—Hole ball 2 (the red), and get position for a cannon either by

the\screw back or stab follow.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 8.—Play a three-quarter ball on ball 2 (the red), dropping gently

on\ball 3, in such a way as not to interfere with the red winner to

follow.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 9.—Remember to make use of the screw back in these positions.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 10.—Drop very gently between the balls; when making the

second\cannon, push through and get above them.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 11.—Practise these strengths till you are sure of them.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 12.—White spotwards and leave red winner.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 13.—Play here to cannon, and leave the red winner, barely

disturbing\the white.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 14.—Play very fine on the white so as not to disturb it. Avoid

the run\through in this very useful class of stroke.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 15.—Gently here to leave red winner. Forefinger bridge. Better

than\trying to bring them together. This is a stroke which requires

some delicacy of execution; it should be practised till the red can

be left near the corner pocket with certainty.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 16.—Push dead full and slowly, bringing the balls together for

nurseries.\There must be more than the diameter of a ball between

ball 3 and the cushion. The stroke is often assisted by pushing ball

1 on the left side, which ensures its free escape from the squeeze

between cue-tip and cushion.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 17.—Study the position with the opponent’s ball on either side of

the central\line of the table. In the one case when it lies on the

player’s side, hole the red by the slow drop, stopping about B. In

the other case play freely off the cushion to A.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 18.—Play rather fine on both balls, and come back a little way up

the\table. In playing this class of stroke, the object being to send

ball 3 to the spot and leave red winner, it is often useful to

employ side, which taking effect from the cushion after the cannon

is made, enables the player to keep near the object ball or away

from it, as desired. The stroke can hardly go wrong.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 19.—Red touching cushion 1. Play slow, kiss cannon, leaving red

winner.\Not too full on the red.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 20.—In this sort of position, the game is to cannon and drop

slowly and\full on the red. A screw back cannon the next stroke

played with good strength will probably permit of the top of the

table game being continued. The strength for the return of the

object ball, whether off one or more cushions, must be constantly

practised. It varies considerably on different tables, and possibly

with the weight of the balls.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 21.—There is no better practice for touch than these slow screws

off a fine\ball; played off too thick a ball or too hard the break

is lost at once. The object, of course, is to play the red over the

top pocket for the winner and cannon slowly on the white.

]

[Illustration:

Fig 22.—Beware in playing this cannon of leaving the red close to the

cushion,\as a cover often occurs. Keep the red several inches from

the cushion, either by finer cut or bringing it back from cushion.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 23.—Fine on ball 2 (the red) to leave winner. Cannon gently on

inside of\ball 3, leaving it near the spot.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 24.—Stab the red in and stop close to it, taking care, of course,

not to\stop on the spot. This leaves the stroke shown in fig. 15.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 25.—Play ball 2 back to the spot, leaving red winner.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 26.—Hole the red and play to leave your own ball for the push.

Get a\shade above the white if possible to enable you to keep it

near the spot.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 27.—Cannon fine on both balls and get above them.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 28.—White spotwards and leave the winner.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 29.—Play the white spotwards and leave the winner.

]

[Illustration:

A Nursery

]

Much advantage will result to the thoughtful reader from a careful study

of the foregoing remarks on breaks, specially if they are read beside a

table on which the strokes may be played; but the same can scarcely be

said with regard to any instructions we have seen for playing a break of

nursery cannons. Of all strokes on the billiard-table they lend

themselves least to description, and the distances between the balls

being so small and the paths travelled so very short, that illustration

by diagram is at once difficult and of doubtful use. Even if the writer

or draftsman thoroughly understands each stroke, it is nearly impossible

to convey his knowledge to the reader. As Mr. Rimington-Wilson has

remarked, the student cannot do better than consult M. Vignaux’s manual

as far as book study is concerned, for the principle underlying the

break is the same on French and on English tables. There are, however,

practical differences, such as the pockets on an English table, which

interfere with the continuation of a long series, and the size of the

balls and table, all of which make the break more difficult for us than

for the French. On the other hand, our rules permit the push stroke,

which is not allowed by French or Americans, and this makes a long break

easier for us. Hence it is necessary to endeavour to give some idea of

this style of play on our tables, the more so as nurseries form a large

part of most long spot-barred breaks.

The only nurseries of cannons that have as yet played an important part

in the English game are those made in such a way that the three balls

are kept travelling in front of the player, and seldom further than from

four to eight inches from the cushion. The series was invented in

America under the name of Rail play, and brought to France by Vignaux,

where though quite modern it is already barred in match games.

Theoretically it consists of the repetition of one simple stroke,

whereby the balls are moved slightly forward, the only check to

uniformity being when a corner has to be turned or a pocket passed;

practically, this normal stroke, _position mère_, as the French call it,

is seldom preserved for any length of break, and the art of continuing

to score consists greatly in the skill whereby it is recovered.

A notion of the ideal path of the balls may be gathered from fig. 30,

that of ball 2 being a zigzag parallel to the cushion, and that of ball

3 a straight line also parallel; 1′ 1″ 1‴, 2′ 2″ 2‴, 3′ 3″ 3‴ are the

positions of the balls after each stroke. In fact the relative position

of the three balls remains the same, whilst they are all moved short

distances along the cushion at each stroke. Of course to attain this

result absolute perfection of manipulation and of implements is

necessary, and equally of course, no such conditions exist; after a few

strokes the relative position is altered, even if certain requirements

of the series be preserved. These mainly are, that a line passing

through the centres of 2 and 3 must be inclined, not parallel to the

cushion; that ball 3 (of fig. 30) shall never be nearer the cushion than

a diameter (2¹⁄₁₆ in.), so that there may be room for ball 2 to be

played between it and the cushion, but ball 2 must never pass ball 3;

that ball 1 also should never pass ball 3; and that each should follow

its rail. These are the chief considerations to be kept in mind when

playing the series, the next point of importance being how to continue

the break when the relative positions of the balls to each other is

modified by various imperfections of play.

[Illustration:

Fig. 30.

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 31.

]

A few of the commonest variations will be mentioned, the object of the

strokes being to recover the _position mère_ as soon as possible.

If ball 1 be played with a little right side or screw or too full on

ball 2, or a combination of these errors, it will strike ball 3 too fine

and come to rest below it, as shown in fig. 31. Ball 3, by having been

struck too fine, has not travelled sufficiently, whereas ball 2 may have

gone too far, so that the tendency of the error here represented is that

the three balls should be left in line, and the series be lost; being

only recoverable by a perfect _massé_—a stroke so rare in the English

game that it may be neglected.

In the case supposed it is clear that following the usual nomenclature

ball 3 would become ball 2 for the stroke about to be played, but would

again become ball 3 in the next stroke after, and confusion might

result; hence, for these nursery cannons the cushion is assumed to be

cushion 1, or that at the top of the table, and the balls retain their

numbers 1, 2, 3, as in the _position mère_, fig. 30. The player is

standing at cushion 6, looking towards cushion 2. First let ball 1 have

its centre at A. Play a very fine ball on 3, scarcely moving it and

cannoning tolerably full on 2, coming off it to the left; a gentle

stroke will leave something like the original position. If ball 1 has

its centre at B, and occupies the position of the dotted circle 1′, then

in the English game the break is continued by a gentle push very fine on

3, and as full as practicable on 2. One of the chief difficulties of

this and other similar strokes when ball 1 is decidedly below the other

balls is the correct alignment of the cue. Different persons meet the

difficulty in different ways; the majority, who are tall enough and not

too stiff, bend over reversing the cue so that its tip points towards

instead of away from themselves, the elbow being raised; whereas others

lay the cue on the table in the right alignment, then standing as before

at cushion 1, raise the tip, having taken hold of the cue about 6 or 8

in. further back between the thumb and forefinger, and leaving the butt

on the table, bring the tip forward for a stroke or push as the

situation may require. Occasionally a short, stout man is put to

considerable inconvenience and disadvantage in playing these shots, and

has after each cannon to walk round and play the next with the rest; at

first sight the hardship may not be apparent, but if the value of

keeping the eyes close to the balls in such delicate work, and the

additional labour in walking round a corner of the table, and taking up

the rest, say twenty times in a series of forty cannons, be considered,

the serious nature of the drawback will not be denied.

[Illustration:

Fig. 32

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 33

]

The next position (fig. 32) is just the reverse of the preceding. Play a

fine delicate stroke on 2, cannoning gently on 3 also rather fine, and

getting a position similar to that shown in the previous figure. If ball

1 is nearer the cushion and nearer ball 2, the cannon must be pushed,

care being taken to push fine on 2 so as not to remove it further down

the table than need be, and to get below 3, that is further from the

cushion, for the next stroke. The stroke left being that of fig. 31,

suppose it to be played too fine on ball 3, getting so full on ball 2,

that it is left behind as in fig. 33. The stroke as shown is a screw a

little further back, or less, than a right angle; but if played plain,

ball 2 will return from the cushion at right angles, or perhaps to the

left of the perpendicular, and there is much probability of ball 1

remaining between the other two and the break being lost. Whereas if

ball 1 be played with left side, ball 2 will come off the cushion to the

right and rejoin 3. If by error ball 1 be played with right side, ball 2

will return from the cushion straighter or more to the left. This use of

side is very pretty, and its effect seems to point to the transmission

of rotation to the second ball, reversed of course, as it should be,

according to the theory put forward in Chapter VI.

[Illustration:

Fig. 34

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 35

]

Again, if instead of being left behind, ball 2 is rather too far

forward, by playing ball 1 with right side and gentle screw ball 2 will

be kept back and the relative position recovered. In playing this,

however, a slight error may result in leaving the balls as shown (fig.

35), from which position the break should be continued by a kiss; ball 1

played just right of the centre of ball 2 should be kissed back on ball

3 fine.

[Illustration:

Fig. 36

]

These kiss strokes should be practised till they can be done with great

exactness. Usually the player being afraid of missing the cannon causes

ball 1 to strike ball 3 too full, and thus drives it down the table,

very likely so as to lose the break. Another type of stroke which easily

results from nursery play is that wherein ball 2 has got too far forward

and is left very close to ball 3. If ball 1 is favourably placed, a

series of fine cannons may be played irrespective of the cushion, the

secret being not to be too fine on the third or cannon ball, and so to

avoid the danger of leaving all three balls in a straight line. In

trying to continue cushion nurseries from a position such as is shown

(fig. 36), the point to bear in mind is that ball 3 is too far back,

relatively; therefore, it must be struck as full as possible without

sending it cushion-wards, cannoning gently on ball 2. If 1 should occupy

the position 1′, a push on the left of ball 1 for its support fine on

ball 3, will result in the latter escaping off ball 2 in the proper

direction, whilst ball 1 will cannon on ball 2, and by means of a few

careful strokes the _position mère_ may be recovered.

[Illustration:

Fig. 37

]

[Illustration:

Fig. 38

]

In playing cushion nurseries even after sufficient confidence is

attained, and series of twenty or thirty cannons are not infrequently

made, great trouble is found in continuing the break round a corner of

the table. That the difficulty is real is apparent from watching

professional play under the circumstances; very often it will be seen

that when the balls have been worked into a corner, the player will

seize the first opportunity of so striking his adversary’s ball as to

leave it near the spot, and cannoning on the red with the view of holing

it next stroke. In other words, the nursery is abandoned and a

favourable position for the top-of-the-table play is selected. This, we

venture to think—for to write dogmatically on such a matter is

foolish—is generally sound play; it makes use of the pocket, which is a

serious obstacle to continuing cannons. Nevertheless, by careful

watching and sometimes by slight modification of play, the opportunity

of turning the corner may be recognised or created. Two examples are

shown in the following figures of positions, in which it is worth while

to try to continue cannons; the balls should not be allowed to get too

near the pocket before trying the strokes, otherwise success is

endangered by the shoulders. The sketch, which has been made without the

advantage of a table on which the balls might be set up, is therefore,

no doubt, faulty, but may serve to convey the desired idea. The position

shown is a modification of the normal one, and the player’s object is to

cause ball 2 to strike cushions 1 and 2 clear of the shoulders of the

pocket, with such strength as to leave that ball near cushion 2.

Further, he must so cannon on ball 3 as to drive it towards the path of

ball 2, if possible slightly ahead of it, when either the _position

mère_, or one not differing very widely from it, will be left, and the

series may be continued along cushion 2 towards the middle pocket. Play

ball 1 a screw stroke about three-quarters right on ball 2, whence it

will return on ball 3, moving it slightly towards cushion 2 and away

from cushion 1. The relative positions of the balls to each other after

a well-played stroke is roughly indicated at 1′ 2′ 3′; their actual

position on the board cannot be shown, as it would confuse the original

drawing.

[Illustration:

Fig. 39

]

Fig. 39 shows another type of stroke for turning the corner. In this

case ball 1 must be played with a little right side, the measure of

which is the quantity of ball 2 taken so as to make it travel as

desired. If fuller, more right side is required; if finer, less.

[Illustration:

Fig. 40

]

A person practising these strokes will be able to interpolate many

variations between the screw and the follow as here exemplified, and

perhaps the best way to make good use of these types is to set up the

balls in normal position for cushion nurseries within a few inches of

the corner pocket, and then try in one or two strokes to leave a variety

of one or other of the examples. In this way the eye becomes accustomed

when playing a series to gauge the distance from the pocket and to seize

a favourable opportunity for passing it.

Another way of turning the corner is shown in fig. 40, whereby as will

be seen use is made of the jaws of the pocket to bring ball 2 down the

table into the desired position. The stroke is so simple as not to need

detailed description; it may be set up by sight, and a few attempts will

reveal what compensations should be applied to insure to ball 2 the

required speed and to slow ball 1, so that it may be left above the

other balls. This diagram was sent by Mr. W. J. Peall, who, moreover,

has kindly read these remarks on ‘cushion nurseries,’ and expressed his

approval of them.

It is right that advice on the subject of cannon play should be given

with caution and hesitation, for the science is far from understood even

by our best players, and further knowledge may put our present ideas

into the background, if not show some of them to have been founded on

misapprehension. Hence but little more will be added on this subject,

and that must be general. Avoid excessive use of the push stroke; it is

commonly employed when quite unnecessary, and is more likely to result

in leaving the balls touching than when an ordinary stroke is used.

Next, play freely rather than over gently, and if possible under the

close supervision of a first-rate performer, and one who can and will

detect every small imperfection. Replace the balls after failure, and

repeat the stroke till certainty is acquired; an hour’s practice daily

is about what is required to keep up the necessary touch after the

various positions have been mastered, but recollect that too much

practice at close cannons is apt to cramp and destroy the freedom needed

for general play.

These notes on nurseries may be appropriately closed by the following

remarks kindly furnished by Mr. Rimington-Wilson, who, it is permissible

to observe, can play such cannons with a speed and certainty as greatly

to be envied as they are difficult of attainment, and in a style

professional rather than amateur.

‘Nursery cannon play in England is still in its infancy, and the writer

cannot help expressing a wish that it may never see full maturity. The

possibilities of this style of game were well illustrated by the visit

of the American champion Ives to this country, when he played a match

with Roberts under unusual conditions.

‘It is true that Ives made his gigantic break in a way that would be

impossible with the ordinary sized balls and pockets—viz.: by jamming

the balls, which were an intermediate size between the American and

English, in the angle of a table with very tight pockets. While

maintaining the position in which he made his break, the balls were not

jammed in the jaws of the pocket as they may be in the English game, but

rather in the angle of the corner where, owing to the large balls and

small pockets, there was very little danger of losing a ball. In fact,

the break was played very much as it would be on an American table with

no pockets.

[Illustration:

Playing behind the back

]

‘Independently of this break Ives’s cannon play was very superior to

anything of the kind in this country, and the writer has seen him in

practice make a break between 600 and 700 without ever getting the balls

angled, and this with the push stroke barred. Of course the _massé_

stroke came into play, but not very frequently.

‘From the spectators’ point of view long series of nursery cannons soon

become wearisome, perhaps even more so than the spot stroke. In many

instances also a large proportion of those present are unable to see the

play at all, as the body of the striker blocks their view. So wearisome

and monotonous did the breaks become in the French and American game

that it was found necessary to legislate against them, and in

first-class play a line is now usually drawn fourteen inches from the

cushions and parallel with them, inside which cannons, except under

certain restrictions, are barred. It is not improbable that in the

future some sort of restriction will have to be imposed in our game.

Gate-money, however, with professionals settles these questions very

satisfactorily; amateurs may be allowed to do as they please.’

CHAPTER XI

THE CHAMPIONSHIP AND THE THREE-INCH POCKET TABLE

Hitherto what has been stated about the game of billiards in this

volume, whether generally or in the description of strokes recommended

for practice, has been on the supposition that the table was of the

ordinary make, the pockets being either those known as the standard of

the Billiard Association, or of those patterns used by the best makers,

both sorts being 3⅝ in. wide at the fall. As the game is played at the

end of the nineteenth century this size of pocket is sufficiently

difficult for amateurs as a class; and spectators of public play, by

whose patronage professional players are mainly supported, have so

greatly preferred the freer game and longer breaks possible with it,

that the three-inch pocket or championship table may almost be said to

have become obsolete. We believe, however, that this disappearance is

merely temporary, due to a combination of circumstances which may not

continue for long, and may be longer still in recurring. Further, if it

was absolutely necessary when the conditions were drawn up to have what

was called the championship of the game decided on a table different

from that on which it is usually played—an anomaly greatly to be

regretted—then the simple tightening of pockets was a device open to as

little objection as any other. It is certainly preferable to barring

this stroke or that on an ordinary table, an arrangement in which there

may always be the suspicion that limitation is made in favour of a

certain player or of a certain class of players, which is of itself

sufficient condemnation. Whereas when the same result is obtained by

making the pockets more difficult, that objection cannot be urged with

equal force; the table is the same for all, and if a man can bring any

stroke to such perfection that he can continue his break to great

length, so much the better for him; he will remain champion till another

arises who can go on longer.

[Illustration:

A DIFFICULT STROKE.

]

No stroke admissible in the ordinary game should be barred when the

championship is played for, because the champion ought to be the

greatest master of all lawful strokes; and if hazards are found to

predominate unduly the remedy lies in tightening the pockets. But before

the next game for the championship is played, cannons and not hazards

bid fair to exercise too great an influence. If that match were played

to-morrow in this year 1896 on a three-inch pocket table, it is safe to

predict that victory would be gained by the man who was best at cushion

nursery cannons; of this there is no question, ‘no possible shadow of

doubt.’ What man in his senses would court constant failure at hazards

when success with cannons was within his grasp? Here, therefore, we are

again face to face with a question similar to that which arose on the

ordinary table when the spot stroke was brought to perfection; with this

difference, that whereas the strokes in a spot break are each genuine,

easily seen and watched by the referee and spectators, and therefore

fair, in a break of cushion nursery cannons the reverse is more than

probable. Made by trick or sleight of hand rather than by an open

stroke, with balls so close that even when the break is stopped and the

referee summoned he cannot readily decide whether they touch or not, and

when promptly continued remonstrance or complaint is too late to be of

use, with the push stroke permitted, such a break is open to objections

much graver than any ever urged against spot play. The scoring is faster

far than is possible with the spot stroke, and play is often obscured

for many spectators by the performer himself. In this case as in that of

hazards no lawful stroke should be barred; it would seem preferable to

draw lines round the table parallel to and at a fixed distance from the

cushions, and to make rules somewhat similar to those in force for the

_Partie Américaine dite du Cadre_. In this game, when balls 2 and 3 are

in the same compartment, that is in one of the rectangular spaces

between the lines and the cushions, and therefore are not separated by a

line, only one cannon is allowed without making at least one of the

balls pass the boundary. There is, in fact, no great difficulty in

making rules to defeat tricks which are favoured by obscurity; no cannon

otherwise lawful need be barred, and as the breaks must be slightly

slower time is afforded for inspection, and if necessary for appeal to

the referee. Moreover, the cannon game would be improved, for greater

skill is required to continue the series when one ball at least must be

some distance from the cushion, and therefore this suggestion has the

merit of inciting players to greater exercise of skill in every lawful

stroke, whereas the policy of barring certain strokes tends to their

neglect and to a corresponding loss of execution.

The objections to having one pattern of table for ordinary play and

another for championship matches are obvious, for the games being

different the champion may not be the best player on the easier table,

even when the spot stroke is barred; and to style a man champion of one

game because he has beaten all comers at another is scarcely logical;

but the remedy is not so apparent. Two solutions present themselves,

only to be dismissed on consideration. First, that amateurs should adopt

the three-inch pocket table, in which case there would be one game and

the champion would ordinarily be the best player of that game; next,

that the championship should be decided on an ordinary table and the

three-inch pocket be abandoned. In both cases the difficulties seem

insuperable; the game on the 3⅝-inch pocket or ordinary table is the

better game for the vast majority of persons, if not absolutely the

better game of the two, because of its greater variety, in that hazards

play their part more equally with cannons, and because scoring is faster

and a freer and better style of play is possible. Indeed, if the

three-inch pocket table were introduced to clubs and public rooms, it

would probably be found desirable to reduce the length of the game from

one hundred to fifty points, whilst maintaining or only slightly

reducing existing charges, because inferior players who form the

majority would score so slowly. Again, if the championship matches were

played on an ordinary table, success would depend mainly on mastery of

the spot stroke, which is held to be undesirable. There is, of course,

another alternative—to have a table with smaller pockets than the

ordinary but larger than those of the championship table, and perhaps

also to increase the size of the balls. It is not safe to be too sure of

anything, but at present, so far as is known, such an arrangement has

not been tried—save perhaps when Roberts played Ives, and the result was

not encouraging; it may, therefore, be neglected on this occasion.

In short, the difference between professional and amateur play must

remain so great that in spite of disadvantages the arrangement which

seems open to fewest objections is to have two tables, an ordinary one

for amateurs and for exhibition games, and another with three-inch

pockets for the championship. The latter, with the lines already

recommended for regulating cannon play, or with the push stroke

considered to be foul, would form an excellent field whereon the battles

of professionals might be decided.

But even supposing the question of the table to be settled, there is

another formidable difficulty in the way of reviving satisfactory

matches—namely, how to insure that the game is genuine and that each

competitor is trying to win. The great games of old days were for the

most part honest, the stakes were real, the rivalry of competitors was

evident, and these facts added greatly to their attraction. Men paid a

guinea gladly enough to see a game of that sort in comfort who would

hesitate to pay five or ten shillings to see a mere exhibition game,

although the play in the latter is certain to be more brilliant because

it is unfettered by caution. Two causes are apt to have a malign

influence on the genuineness of the game; one, that gate-money is often

of more importance than the stake, and the other we may call the

weakness of human nature. Both are somewhat thorny matters to deal with,

the latter specially so; but those who know most will most readily admit

the difficulty. In time there is reason to hope for improvement; the

change of status and character of professional players during the last

forty years amply justifies this; but, as in other ways of life, some

men are more worthy of confidence than others, and that course in

arranging for a competition is preferable which shall tend to strengthen

the idea that honesty is the best policy. To help this the influence of

gate-money should be reduced to a minimum, possibly by making the game

short enough to be completed in one day if not at one meeting. The

stakes should be substantial, and it is worth considering whether other

advantages could be added to make the position of champion more

attractive. But its reward must lie chiefly in the honour and

distinction it confers rather than in money, and therefore no

opportunity should be lost of adding to the dignity and consideration of

the post; whilst even as regards remuneration it must have value, for

its possessor will command the highest rates of payment which obtain in

his profession.

These remarks concerning the championship are agreed to by Mr.

Rimington-Wilson and by others who have studied the subject; they may

not improbably before long have to be considered by those entrusted with

drawing up conditions for the next match, which in the ordinary course

of things is unlikely to be greatly delayed. For if youth does not

advance with the speed which might be expected, age will inevitably tell

and lessen the distance between first and second, till a combat on even

terms is waged, or the elder retires and allows younger rivals to

contest for the position.

Persons interested in the subject of this chapter will welcome the

following memorandum kindly furnished by Mr. Russell D. Walker, the

well-known sportsman, who, amongst other accomplishments, is a player of

much merit on a championship table, although in places it repeats what

has been already told in other parts of this book.

THE BILLIARD CHAMPIONSHIP