Hendry in luckiest 147 ever

I can't even bring myself to watch it but I'm sure there are no fruity bananas or doubles in it. I couldn't help but raise a smile at this image of Stephen Hendreary on the front page of the BBC Sport website though. It really seemed to capture something...

UPDATE:

Alright, alright, I have watched it now. Here it is in case you fancy it.

Notice the anticipation at around 25 points, where Virgo clearly wants to mention it might be a 147, but knows the rules of the OPTA 147 Index. He almost starts panting whilst discussing whether Hendry will go for the pink or black and probably dribbles on the microphone. Great stuff. Virgo finally breaks down on 7 reds, 7 blacks and lays an initial hint. Clive mentions it outright, but in his haste he says it when the crowd are clapping, and you can't really hear him.

Hendry plays it old-school, and breaks the pack only after he's potted all the available reds.

At 129 points, you can see Ethel and Edith in the crowd confirming to one another that a 147 may indeed be in progress.

It has two flair shots in it - both plants. One of them even has a little wriggle on the way down and the other is a three ball multi-angle affair. I am impressed! The pink at the end is pretty good too.

Oh dear.

Much badness at the World Championship in the week. Apologies that updates have not been forthcoming, largely due to my utter dispair at proceedings and having to revert to analogue TV halfway through the week. No red button? It's like the 1950s.

Here is my summation:

The bad

• Liang WenProperBo defeated by Ding the Drone.
• O Sullivan out playing really poorly.
• Hendreary looking like he might do well.
• Nigel Bond the accountant of snooker grinds down Snebdon to a thin paste in the most snoozetastic match ever.
• Steve Davis out, and unable to set a new record for the longest match of all time (or thinking about a shot for longer than anyone ever) and hence reducing some debutante to tears.
• The longest frame ever between two dullards of snooker (didn't see it thank god)
  
• Where is Hazel? I am not sure about this Rishi fellow, he doesn't look like he could hold a conversation about Parrott's big tip for long. Come back Hazel, I miss you!
  

The good

• 'Let's get the boys on the baize!' - I am a big fan of this crazy haired gonk doing the intros, he has got some great nicknames. The Thunder from Down Under - brilliant.
• Neil Robertson still in with a shout. I like an Australian who plays snooker (more on this another time - it is like being an Eskimo who is into tanning).
• Totally open draw - could be won by a complete random. Please don't let John Higgins win.
  
• People boo-ing Shaun Murphy. Something to do with his personal circumstances. Whatever, nice to see a bit of theatre. He did what the Ronaldong does and responded to it by playing about ten times better.
  
• Commentators still talking utter nonsense. One blatant comment about Stephen Lee having a good touch in the balls for a big lad has already been reported. Nice work fellas.
  

All in all, not a good start. Let's hope it picks up in the second week.

And by the way...

The World Championship starts this weekend. If you have a red button or the internet you can watch every shot, probably live. There, you have no excuse.

"I wouldn't necessarily be drinking or out clubbing, but I would be gambling or playing cards"

Young James was to be seen this week in a fine feature on Inside Sport. Despite his pasty sweaty demeanour, he clearly charmed the pants off Gabby Logan with his tales of excessive drinking, not winning the World Championship and the good old days. He frequently performed what I would call his interview special move, a wry smile followed by a bashful downward glance when discussing getting lagered rather than concentrating on beating Hendreary. He also mentioned that he had shared eight pints with Steve Davis the night before. By the look of him Jim had seven and a half of them.

Sadly that witty quip maker Parrott was on the sofa, and it must be said that Gabby still appeared to be in a bit of a fluster post-Jimmy, particularly when dealing with the guy who knew lots about cricket. Parrott mentioned that he had become part of a 'legends' team. Legends of quip-making perhaps, but not snooker Parrott. They showed the one interesting part of his snooker career, where he pots the long red down the cushion and raises his freakish eyebrows.

There were of course many great highlights of Jim's career, including the missed black (the agony!), all of the bits where other people are winning the World Championship trophy (like 6 daggers through my heart) and a man who was probably from Tooting telling him that he was definitely going to win.

Check out the very young James in the VT with his headmaster - what a cheeky little scamp. He has hardly aged!

The Longest Match

The boy and I came to the conclusion that it was time to call an end to years of speculating as to which of us was better at snooker. Having had many best of five or even best of seven matches, it was obvious that this short technique of measuring performance was not enough.

So we played first to ten, and then we had the idea of playing first to 18, as though we were in a World Championship. But the conditions weren't ideal (i.e. I lost both) as we had to keep stopping the game at inappropriate moments, most unlike the professional game.

There was clearly only one way to settle this in a sensible way. It was the summer holidays, which when 16 years old seems like the longest period that could possibly exist. It had to be first to 100.

My memory of how the match progressed is hazy, but the one thing I do recall about it is that at one point I was something like 80 frames to 60 down, and pulled it back to close to 90-90. Amazingly, the game ended 100-99 to the Boy, with me kindly handing him the final frame, no doubt going in off the black after some Patrick Ewing and giving away a cheap foul after scuffing the white with the Steve Ryder.

An honourable mention should go to my good friend Mark, with whom I played a first to 35 (best of 69) match of pot black pool in the kitchen of his student house all in one day. It ended 35-34 to Mark, once again proving my inability to win a match of substantial length.

Virgo hands out some pun-ishment

'Both these players need two balls to get to the semi-finals' said the ever homo-erotic JV whilst stroking Willie Thorne's bald head with his spare hand.