Let’s learn to love those pesky pool players

It’s Wednesday evening. You head down to the JCR for a drink and a quick game of pool. To your annoyance, you are unable to even see the table due to a huddle of college pool players in the middle of a match. There’s at least a fiver’s worth of 50 pence pieces on the side of the table, and the message is clear: “baize reserved indefinitely”.

This is the only time in the last fortnight you have actually wanted a game, and resentment builds so quickly that the idea of strolling over, grabbing a cue, snapping it on your knee and walking away without a word momentarily proposes itself as a possible course of action. But no, it will have to be just a drink for you tonight.

Were you, however, to wander over to the edge of the invisible pool sphere that engulfs the table, you would observe a peculiar and intriguing world (cue David Attenborough voiceover).

“Here we have the college pool players in their natural habitat”. Welcome to a world in which those who do not have a suitable nickname (something like James ‘snooker’ Smith) will be slowly killed off in a pub sport equivalent of natural selection, and those who don’t possess their own cue…well, let’s not even go there.

As you look in, standing as still as possible so as to not alert them to your presence, it becomes apparent that they are speaking a language you have never heard before. Some words sound familiar but the overall meaning remains out of reach.

The jargon speakers are clearly the only ones to have survived the deterioration of the previous table and into a new era.

“Is it touching?”

“Yeah. I reckon the only option is go for the double, avoid the kiss, and leave the white near baulk”.

“Or use a triple cushion escape with a trace of right hand side, leave him with nothing on”.

“No, he’s got an easy safety from there”.

For the life of you, you just can’t understand why he’s not going to pot the red that’s right in front of the white. And for some reason, when his attempted pot doesn’t go in, but stays in front the pocket, his team mates give a ripple of applause – “played Roger.”

To comprehend all the pool talk the best option is, as with any language, complete immersion. Becoming a member of the college pool team is not an option. The reason for not potting an easy ball is always that no better position can be gained from doing so, and leaving a ball over a pocket has the benefit of blocking it from your opponent. All this can be picked up quickly enough.

Most of the time they seem to take an age to decide what shot to play. When team mates are whispering to themselves though, and not allowed to help the players at the table, playing one shot when there was a better alternative is rarely revealed to you in an arm-round-the-shoulder manner by the rest of the squad.

Unfortunately for everyone else in the JCR who fancies a frame as well, seeing one of the pool teams leave the table at about 9:30 does not signal the end of the match. Half way through there is the mandatory beer leg, and the losing team trudge off to the bar. There remains at least a couple of quid on the side of the table.

As an observer, there are few no-go areas. Firstly, don’t make the mistake of advising players which shot to attempt. The chances are they will be considering something more tactful, and it’s against the rules for players to take suggestions. Secondly, try not to walk in their eyeline as they line up a shot.

Every college pool player likes to think of themselves as Ronnie 0’Sullivan, and may react a la Christian Bale to such a distraction. On the other hand, always remember that any sort of crowd is welcomed: why the rugby lads get all the attention when we are exhibiting talent of far more subtlety, is a question that bubbles under the surface of every half decent pool player.

To see a good college player in full swing is impressive, and as you perch on the edge of this strange environment, try to appreciate the skill involved when four or five balls drop in succession before the black is also cleared up and the frame is over with a handshake. “And after waiting for his opportunity, the college player pounces. His prey has left itself open to attack, and he takes his chance with devastating effect”. Attenborough again.

Don’t wish you owned a specialised chalk, and don’t wish you spoke the language of the baize, but do your best not to resent the table hogging that occurs every week. Some of your college pool team are in actual fact very, very good at a difficult game.