The times I have watched snooker live and what it was like. Part One: The Crucible

Me, The Boy and the Grand Master went to the Crucible a while back. God we were excited. We even had a mini-tournament on the pool table in Wetherspoons Sheffield the night before to get ourselves in the mood. The Grand Master won as usual. He built the original table after all, from which all subsequent snooker followed. Our excitement was somewhat tempered by walking f*cking miles up the steepest hill in the world afterwards. The Grand Master gave great pleasure in informing us that he used to do this walk twice a day when he had his first job in Sheffield etc. etc. Since then cars have been invented, and some people own them and charge you to ride in them on a temporary basis (this practice is called taxi driving). We informed him of these developments and did not make the same mistake the night after.

The first game we saw was McManus versus McCulloch. We pronounce 'McManus' in our house as though the last part of his name sounds like the word anus. I don't know why this is funny but it is and has become common parlance. I would rather stick a rusty pole in my eye than watch these two bore-mongers play snooker. Also, it was the first half of a match so there was no finale / conclusion. Total shocker. It ended 8-8 I think.

But the next game made up for it. Hendry versus Pinches. Pinches is a ledge of the highest order as is from Norfolk like us. We were wearing our Norwich shirts hoping to get on the telly (failed) and were well up for the Pincherman to beat Bendry / Hendreary / Hendrong (he is called all of these things in our house). It was tense at 10-10 at the start with the first to 13 the winner. The Boy has pinched me about 5 times now as some kind of physical-semantic joke. It is wearing thin, and would have come in more handy during McManus McCulloch. Hendreary and Pincher go neck and neck to 12-12, Pinchit looking pretty confident. Being the Jimmy-defeater, Bendry is like some sort of pantomime villian to us, we cannot be doing with him. We want to see him crushed by Pinches, who is ranked about 114th in the world and probably still plays at the Canary Cue Club. 'Millions of Pinches, Pinches for me!' shout me and The Boy. The Grand Master tries to look excited, but maybe he has been here one too many times before at the hands of the old enemy Hendrong. At 12-12 Pincherman and Hendrong disappear to psyche themselves for the final frame. The roar when the Pincher comes back is huge. The back of his waistcoat is yellow and green, just like our blood - we love him long time! He starts positively, but soon Bendry is in and then Pinchme has no way back. Yet again, even when Pinches is about 20 points behind I still hope he can snooker Bendrong behind the black three times or that one of the studio lights will fall on the table and they will have to restart. Something almost statistically impossible that still nags away at the back of my mind. It is impossible, so it doesn't happen and Bendry wins. Gutting.

What a day out though.

Those wooden seats in the Crucible are pretty uncomfortable. During McManus (rhymes with anus remember) versus McCulloch I thought my leg would fall off. It would have diverted my attention from the game though which would have been a bonus.

We get a taxi home.