When I was 10 years old, my passion was Snooker.
I was too young to play but often I would spend my
time watching old boys playing at my fathers canteen
observing and learning the game, and the nostalgic
atmosphere that went with it back then.
Love the play on words in the title Michael and the whole poem is wonderfully packed with fantastic descriptions of your favourite sport. It seeps nostalgia and your love is clear. Glad to see it nominated. Well done indeed sir! :-) x
As a child I loved nothing more than playing with my balls. This reached a peak in my teens, spending many an hour sinking balls into holes.
Tennis, football and snooker – I loved them all.
“History of snooker. The game of snooker is a cue sport which emerged in its modern form in the late 19th century, with roots going back to the 16th century form of English billiards. Billiards was popular among the British Armed Forces stationed in India. ... Eventually, these two games were combined to form snooker.” Wikipedia
This poem talks nostalgically about this game. Specifically, for this writer, the ‘bus-mans’ club canteen’ where many a snooker match was watched and practiced as a child. The imagery of him being just ‘four feet tall’, trying to cue up a shot is hilarious. The sound and visuals are so real – that I felt I was there. From the smoke-filled room, to the strained faces desperately trying to build their break.
It seems that a poem like this reflects, not only on a child’s memory and poets enjoyment of the game; but also, the subtle changes in society. There was a time when you would find the game of snooker played everywhere – from canteens, to snooker halls. It was accessible, played in every town, in a number of venues and by all classes. Now, it seems, that the snooker clubs are reducing in numbers, so the game is now more exclusive and that is a shame.
The poem is written in both rhyme and meter, which is always a nice touch.