I'll have to admit that, for the first time in quite a while, and to the general disappointment of my nearest and dearest who were consequently bored to tears by it, I went a bit "snooker loopy" this year.
I mean, I do usually get sucked into the Final of the World Championship over the May day weekend most years, but this year I do seem to have seen an awful lot of the rest of it, too, even though I am, at best, only an annual "fan" of the game, as it's something I only seem to discover during the particular fortnight of that tournament each year and then forget about for the other fifty weeks.
Do I hear a "Thank heavens!" being muttered somewhere close by…?
I mean, I do usually get sucked into the Final of the World Championship over the May day weekend most years, but this year I do seem to have seen an awful lot of the rest of it, too, even though I am, at best, only an annual "fan" of the game, as it's something I only seem to discover during the particular fortnight of that tournament each year and then forget about for the other fifty weeks.
Do I hear a "Thank heavens!" being muttered somewhere close by…?
What is it with me and sports that have to be played out over several days, anyway? I don't seem able to give a rat's kidney for anything played over eighty or ninety minutes, but give me something that grinds away at slabs of days of my time, and I'm happy as Larry...
I think that this year, however, I was finding it all rather relaxing, which was something that I really needed after the events of the last couple of years, and it was all strangely soporific, right up until I found that I began to actually care about the result of the particulars game that I'd been sucked into.
Still, I know that I'll never get drawn towards Sheffield to watch any of it "live" and in person. Me and Sheffield have too traumatic a history for that kind of nonsense, and it would, of course, involve sitting with "people" which is something that I would find rather difficult, I fear.
I do wonder what it was that drew me in so much this year, though. Perhaps it was the fact that it all started off over the Easter weekend which helped to draw me in? Two lengthy weekends with little to do in quick succession topping and tailing the tournament might just have been convenient when there's "nothing else on" and I'm sitting on the sofa feeling a little stuck for ideas or energy.
Still, I know that I'll never get drawn towards Sheffield to watch any of it "live" and in person. Me and Sheffield have too traumatic a history for that kind of nonsense, and it would, of course, involve sitting with "people" which is something that I would find rather difficult, I fear.
I do wonder what it was that drew me in so much this year, though. Perhaps it was the fact that it all started off over the Easter weekend which helped to draw me in? Two lengthy weekends with little to do in quick succession topping and tailing the tournament might just have been convenient when there's "nothing else on" and I'm sitting on the sofa feeling a little stuck for ideas or energy.
A few years ago, when I worked from home more regularly than I do now, putting the TV on in the daytime used to be something that I'd occasionally do so that it could keep me company, and I found that the soft clacking of the balls and the polite applause used to help a fortnight tick along quite nicely until the Test Matches would start up again. This is, incidentally, the kind of madness that can cause an addiction to "Bargain Hunt" and is really not recommended for anyone.
Student life in South Wales was what first drew me into the weird world of TV snooker. A couple of frames watching Steve "Safety Shot" Davis bury our then-hero Jimmy White in 1984 and hearing bellows of "It's po-o-o-rtable, man!" drifting along the corridor and I was hooked, just in time for that epic against Dennis Taylor in 1985…
I still have fond memories of dashing to the off-licence when it opened at 7 o'clock (yes, I'm so old that they used to actually close in my day…) to stock up for the evening and settling down in one of my neighbour's rooms (because he had a colour TV…!) to watch it, and the adrenaline surge of excitement which came with seeing Steve Davis finally overcome at God-knows-what o'clock in the morning to much hollering and cheering which found us feeling rather sheepish the next morning when we came face to face with everyone we'd kept awake.
Still, it was a good night, and never to be repeated. The next year proved disappointing when Joe Johnson seemed to wrap it all up whilst we were still in the pub during the afternoon and another great night in was denied us.
Or was that the year after…?
Still, Joe Johnson… Where the heck did he come from…?
I've never quite had the same experience since, though, as I did back in 1985. For various reasons, my interest has ebbed and flowed over the intervening decades, and some years I've hardly seen any of it at all, but this year it drew me back in and, to be honest, I'm rather glad it did, because those last two games featuring Mark Selby conjured up a little of the old magic for me and, whilst it felt a bit of a shame to see Ronnie O'Sullivan deprived of his sixth title, in the end I was rather pleased that the "Jester from Leicester" prevailed, because, somehow, that proved that the game can still prove interesting and surprise even a jaded old cynic like me.
Right, you can probably wake up now… I think my dull observations on what other people find dull pastimes is all but over.
Well, at least until the Test Matches begin again...
I still have fond memories of dashing to the off-licence when it opened at 7 o'clock (yes, I'm so old that they used to actually close in my day…) to stock up for the evening and settling down in one of my neighbour's rooms (because he had a colour TV…!) to watch it, and the adrenaline surge of excitement which came with seeing Steve Davis finally overcome at God-knows-what o'clock in the morning to much hollering and cheering which found us feeling rather sheepish the next morning when we came face to face with everyone we'd kept awake.
Still, it was a good night, and never to be repeated. The next year proved disappointing when Joe Johnson seemed to wrap it all up whilst we were still in the pub during the afternoon and another great night in was denied us.
Or was that the year after…?
Still, Joe Johnson… Where the heck did he come from…?
I've never quite had the same experience since, though, as I did back in 1985. For various reasons, my interest has ebbed and flowed over the intervening decades, and some years I've hardly seen any of it at all, but this year it drew me back in and, to be honest, I'm rather glad it did, because those last two games featuring Mark Selby conjured up a little of the old magic for me and, whilst it felt a bit of a shame to see Ronnie O'Sullivan deprived of his sixth title, in the end I was rather pleased that the "Jester from Leicester" prevailed, because, somehow, that proved that the game can still prove interesting and surprise even a jaded old cynic like me.
Right, you can probably wake up now… I think my dull observations on what other people find dull pastimes is all but over.
Well, at least until the Test Matches begin again...
I too had a brief love affair with snooker. It was in the 70's and probably more to do with a lack on channels and the advent of colour TV. These days I find that I can leave it alone, even though the theme tune to Pot Black is indelibly scored on my mind.
ReplyDeleteIt has since dawned on me that Mark Selby would have been less than two years old when I was staying up to watch Dennis and Steve play… (Gulp!)
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