Trick or Treat?
T’was the scariest night of the year. Halloween. Nahhhhhhhh, let’s start again. Who the fuck has declared Halloween to be scary? The media – that’s who. Well what do they know? Have the ever been in a car with Jody? No. Have they ever eaten a buffet made by Dog? No. Have the ever put Mark on in a deciding frame? No. Last night also saw that other popular tradition in these parts – Helloween – the night we bash up the Hustlers and make them run home to their mummies. Trouble is, we may be overplaying it a bit as its more than once a year.
The Shack regulars seemed to be wholly underwhelmed by the occasion. Merv ambled in after all the chores were done and scrounged re-tipping advice from the assembled poolheads. Apparently techniques have moved on since he was Welsh Billiards Champion in 1952. For fucks sake Jody, don’t mentioned layered tips. Oh he did. We’re also Frankless, Rangerless and more worryingly ZaredandMarkless. The Zared situation was resolved before the witching hour, but it was touch and go whether Marks regular plane spotting jaunt would overtake him or whether a couple of pints down T’Rafa might appeal more. We’ll leave you in suspense on that one. All of which means its time for a match report. Calm down son, it’s only a pumpkin…
Dog misjudges a safety mid-frame and nearly pays the price. A proper safety later gets two and its 1-0 Stingers. Horace misjudges Jody’s ability to clear a tough finish and its 2-0. Andy has a frame turning foul err, turn the frame against him. 2-1. Jamies clearance is hampered by ‘that pocket’. Aye, we have a pocket which is a more stubborn hole than the rest. So stubborn on occasions you wonder whether its mother has sent it out with a chastity belt on. Anyways, following the hole’s ‘No thanks, I’ve got a headache, you’re not sticking THAT in there” moment, the frame is lost. 2-2. By this time, The Hustlers seem to be growing. There’s like 50 of them sitting in the corner. At least. Deano looks like one of them Radio 1 DJ’s with his posse all gathered round. Chris Moyles springs to mind, but only because he sticks Comedy Dave on next. Zared’s never found him funny though and finds him even less so when his covered the bag shot leaves a tiny gap for Dave to slither his last ball through. 2-3. Jamie’s having none of the losing business anymore. Been there, done that once, much prefer winning thankyou. 3-3. Dog sets a little challenge with a DF and they pass the test. 3-4. Mark decides he’s had enough of Airbus A321’s and Boeing 737’s and puts in an appearance. The little Fokker (See what I did there). A planeload of missed positions and crap shots culminate in Horace jawing a doubled black and the boy blunder finishing with the customary heart-stopping moment. 4-4. Jody’s never gone for comedy. Peter Kay could come in and do his Garlic Bread routine and Jody’s face wouldn’t change much. Unless mushrooms were involved. So when Comedy Dave is back on for them Schmustlers, Jody is not amused. Please bear in mind the availability, cheapness and sheer quaffableness of the John Smiths and you’ll appreciate the lack of detail about these games. Basically, Dave either misses or doesn’t cover a pocket – probably the latter knowing him – and Jody takes out his last, lands perfectly behind the black and deposits it with a dead-pan expression. Apparently he finds mutilation funny. 5-4. And so it was that Mark mutilates frame 10. Makes it his, gets two and hey presto 6-4. I have another sarnie and Andy plays the last. Perhaps we should have swapped roles. 6-5.
The undisputed guv’ners are back. Not that we’ve ever been away, but two league defeats on the trot for the first time this millennium (seriously) would have derailed the season somewhat. Talking of derailment (that got Jody smiling) its Champion of Champions this weekend. We shall allow ourselves some losses there as the quantity of different substances entering our bodies will probably preclude any of that winning shit. Not as messy as Minehead, but likely to spawn some blog moments.
Can I mention Rottweilers yet?
The Shack regulars seemed to be wholly underwhelmed by the occasion. Merv ambled in after all the chores were done and scrounged re-tipping advice from the assembled poolheads. Apparently techniques have moved on since he was Welsh Billiards Champion in 1952. For fucks sake Jody, don’t mentioned layered tips. Oh he did. We’re also Frankless, Rangerless and more worryingly ZaredandMarkless. The Zared situation was resolved before the witching hour, but it was touch and go whether Marks regular plane spotting jaunt would overtake him or whether a couple of pints down T’Rafa might appeal more. We’ll leave you in suspense on that one. All of which means its time for a match report. Calm down son, it’s only a pumpkin…
Dog misjudges a safety mid-frame and nearly pays the price. A proper safety later gets two and its 1-0 Stingers. Horace misjudges Jody’s ability to clear a tough finish and its 2-0. Andy has a frame turning foul err, turn the frame against him. 2-1. Jamies clearance is hampered by ‘that pocket’. Aye, we have a pocket which is a more stubborn hole than the rest. So stubborn on occasions you wonder whether its mother has sent it out with a chastity belt on. Anyways, following the hole’s ‘No thanks, I’ve got a headache, you’re not sticking THAT in there” moment, the frame is lost. 2-2. By this time, The Hustlers seem to be growing. There’s like 50 of them sitting in the corner. At least. Deano looks like one of them Radio 1 DJ’s with his posse all gathered round. Chris Moyles springs to mind, but only because he sticks Comedy Dave on next. Zared’s never found him funny though and finds him even less so when his covered the bag shot leaves a tiny gap for Dave to slither his last ball through. 2-3. Jamie’s having none of the losing business anymore. Been there, done that once, much prefer winning thankyou. 3-3. Dog sets a little challenge with a DF and they pass the test. 3-4. Mark decides he’s had enough of Airbus A321’s and Boeing 737’s and puts in an appearance. The little Fokker (See what I did there). A planeload of missed positions and crap shots culminate in Horace jawing a doubled black and the boy blunder finishing with the customary heart-stopping moment. 4-4. Jody’s never gone for comedy. Peter Kay could come in and do his Garlic Bread routine and Jody’s face wouldn’t change much. Unless mushrooms were involved. So when Comedy Dave is back on for them Schmustlers, Jody is not amused. Please bear in mind the availability, cheapness and sheer quaffableness of the John Smiths and you’ll appreciate the lack of detail about these games. Basically, Dave either misses or doesn’t cover a pocket – probably the latter knowing him – and Jody takes out his last, lands perfectly behind the black and deposits it with a dead-pan expression. Apparently he finds mutilation funny. 5-4. And so it was that Mark mutilates frame 10. Makes it his, gets two and hey presto 6-4. I have another sarnie and Andy plays the last. Perhaps we should have swapped roles. 6-5.
The undisputed guv’ners are back. Not that we’ve ever been away, but two league defeats on the trot for the first time this millennium (seriously) would have derailed the season somewhat. Talking of derailment (that got Jody smiling) its Champion of Champions this weekend. We shall allow ourselves some losses there as the quantity of different substances entering our bodies will probably preclude any of that winning shit. Not as messy as Minehead, but likely to spawn some blog moments.
Can I mention Rottweilers yet?
posted by The Dog at 2:54 AM
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