I love me a good game of pool. Or ten.
I’m not as good at it as I used to be; when I went to university to do my undergraduate degree, we had a free table in the student halls’ bar so naturally I’d go in there before lunch, after lunch, of an evening – whenever.
I wanted to get better at it. I did.
Pool isn’t one of those things people, as parents, tend to take their daughters to learn. To be fair, I did get karate, but my dad and his friends would go to the “Conservative Club” to play snooker; something entirely unsuitable for children on many levels, and I still can’t do it.
I had to make do with Jimmy White’s Whilrwind Snooker on the Amiga 500.
The real thing feels like trying to roll a football into bins at the corner of a pitch. I’m too short.