- 08. März 2015 - LochBar
Welcome to the weird German LochBar which means something along the lines of The Pottable Pub. What you can find on the menu are all kinds of bits, sips, and Hot Pots from the world of snooker (no food pics though, sorry Stephen!). A chaotic column about the game we all love â€“ even if nobody else might understand us.
Snooker players are dull, ladies and gentlemen. In his well-researched state of the game address, a Blackpool Gazette journalist came to this conclusion last week. Sure, in football they have players like Mario Ballotelli who enjoy posing like Godzilla and feeling like God. Wouldnâ€™t it be funny if a snooker player stroke a winnerâ€™s pose after a match and then shouted something totally random â€“ like for instance: â€śVEGAN POWERâ€ť? Iâ€™m pretty sure he would be called a psycho and a hero and everything in between.
Letâ€™s also talk about the players who make us laugh even in the tensest of frames, the Poomies and Jesters of the snooker world. Letâ€™s talk about those who have inspired parody accounts on twitter and those who are funnier than their own parody. And letâ€™s talk about those who drive their friendâ€™s son and mother to a tournament because that friend has made it to the final. Maybe that is the problem: Snooker players behave like gentlemen (well, most of them) and call fouls on themselves in the deciding frame. Duh, good manners are soâ€¦ dull.
Snooker referees are dull, dear readers. They are basically just walking around a table, picking balls out and saying a few numbers. Never would they, just to give one example, impress everyone by explaining their decisions via social media.
Oh, wait, this happened only recently â€“ after top referee Paul Collier showed his class during the Welsh Open semi between Mark Williams and Ben Woollaston by not calling a miss in a very tricky situation. Even the players commented on his decision. Judd Trump (dull player, dull shoes) praised it via twitter: â€śgreat decision possibly only 1 more brave enough to make that decisionâ€ť â€“ aw, Iâ€™m not the only one who finds English punctuation difficult! And aw, thank you for sharing your positive thoughts, Judd!
One question remains, though: Whoâ€™s the other one? Brendan, Tatiana, Alex, Jan, Marcel or someone else? Pick your favourite! Or better: Pick them all, theyâ€™re all awesome! And theyâ€™re cool as ice: It is virtually impossible to feel uncomfortable when Paul Collier is around â€“ UNLESS he gives somebody â€śthe lookâ€ť and makes them regret what they just did for the rest of their lives and beyond put their mobile away. By the way, who wouldnâ€™t enjoy a techno-ringtone-free Crucible final in 2015? I for one would be a very happy dull snooker fan if Paul Collier was to ref his second Crucible Final this year. Final-ly.
Talking about â€śfinallyâ€ť: Finally, snooker is dull, guys. I mean, itâ€™s a very weird sport (yup, sport, but letâ€™s not get lost in the dullest of discussions). Seriously, most of the time it goes like this: For the first five minutes the players just try to put a white ball close to a cushion. And if they end up very close to the cushion, everyone is clapping. Suddenly one of them finally manages to pot a red ball and then another ball. Yeahh, weâ€™re getting there, two balls gone already, you think â€“ until some cruel dull referee puts the second ball back. So much for progress.
Sure, thatâ€™s what you can see if you watch a game of snooker. You could also see scary precision. Long pots that blow you away. A tactical battle so tense that it makes you eat three chocolate bars without even noticing. Pots you thought were impossible. Flukes that you wish were impossible. Ridiculous fouls. 15 reds, 15 blacks and a missed yellow. Magic snookers. Magic snooker. But that is your choice.
Because life is as dull as you want it to be, my friends. And so is snooker.
Die nĂ¤chste LochBar-Ausgabe gibt es wieder wie gewohnt auf Deutsch â€“ der Reisschnaps ist schon kalt gestellt.