Pro Snooker Blog

As we move on into October, we have another extract from the upcoming book of world number 37 Stuart Pettman, this time on the subject of table lighting. Again, all feedback would be appreciated either by way of a comment or if you have a more specific question for Stuart, by way of email to pettman142@gmail.com

OCTOBER

Not a good month for Stuart as he was edged out of the Grand Prix 5-4 by Matt Selt, thereby failing to reach the venue stage. However, if he had made it to Glasgow he would have been well prepared. As the co-owner of a snooker club along with Shokat Ali, the former professional from Pakistan, Stuart was well placed to make the changes in the club’s practice environment that could help him at the TV stages, while practice and business partner Shokat was well placed to meet half the cost…

Over the years I’ve found it very difficult to settle and play well at the venue stage of tournaments. It’s nothing to do with nerves, or playing in front of crowds. The time for nerves and pressure is the first qualifying round because of the way the ranking points are weighted. If anything, I’m far less nervous at the venue because by that stage there’s nothing to lose, and I love matches where there’s a big crowd in because it’s nice to be noticed or appreciated and to have a chance to show what you can do. There’s so much more of a buzz around the venues with the media attention and all the fans. Not my fans obviously, but fans in general. The TV cameras can have a slightly less positive effect though because you can’t help but think about the thousands of people who might be watching and talking about whether or not you’re any good. If I miss a black off the spot on TV, I know there’ll be people saying “That Pettman’ll never get anywhere,” or “You should’ve seen that black Pettman missed. No bottle.” Actually I’d better rephrase that. Most people would probably be saying, “Who’s that? He’s not much good, is he? No wonder I’ve never heard of him.” But sometimes comments do get back to me and it’s disappointing that people can make such hasty judgments based on a couple of shots they’ve seen on TV. Then there’s more pressure the next time and if you’re not feeling entirely comfortable around the table you can find yourself consciously trying to make sure that you just don’t miss anything easy and come across as a complete muppet.

The lighting at the Crucible Theatre

However, crowds and cameras aside, the big problem has been lighting. The venues have the lighting set up for TV, and not only is it far, far removed from anything you’ll find in a snooker club, it’s also quite different to the lighting I’m used to in qualifying. The main differences are in the position and the intensity of the lights. They have to be high enough to allow the cameras to get an unobstructed view of the table, and then there has to be sufficient light to compensate for the fact that they’re higher up. To achieve that, they use 96 fluorescent tubes arranged in two parallel rows with 48 on each side. Since you need four tubes to cover the length of the table, that gives you four blocks of 12 tubes to make up the 48. That’s a lot of light, and it can make a snooker table suddenly appear a very unfamiliar place.

At the start of last season I decided I’d have to do something about it if I wanted to get any further in the game. I had a chat with Shokat about how I felt, and he helpfully informed me that it was all in my head and the reason I kept losing at venues had nothing to do with lighting and everything to do with not being good enough. Then I told him I was going to install TV-style lighting over my practice table in the club and he grunted something about delusions and how the benefits wouldn’t even cover the cost of setting it up. However, one man’s self-delusion is another man’s self-belief so I went ahead with it anyway.

Stuart in action at Pontin’s Prestatyn

I was fortunate that a couple of the players in one of our league teams would know exactly how to get the work done. Ken was an electrician and Harry had spent a lifetime in the building industry, and they volunteered their services in return for tea, biscuits and free table time. I tried to stay out of the way as much as possible once they’d started because if I went in to have a look, Harry would start explaining what they were doing. He’d be elaborating about joist hangers and bearing headers and I’d be forcing myself to listen, desperately hoping to hear something I could understand just in case he was leading up to a tricky question along the lines of “which way would I prefer it?” It’s best just to trust him to get on with it.

The finished result was exactly what I’d been hoping for. We had the 96 fluorescent tubes set into the ceiling and then we also had a lightweight aluminium canopy containing normal lights that we could hang underneath the TV lights if we ever wanted to have the usual club style lighting for any reason. Shokat still wasn’t impressed. We turned the lights on for him so he could see how it all looked but he had one eye on the electric meter spinning round. He calculated that the additional cost of having this kind of lighting – coupled with the obligatory table heaters that keep the table running up to speed – comes to £2500 per year. And that’s without the £600 I spent on setting it up. A few days later he told me if I wanted to go and make a cup of tea while I was practicing then I really ought to turn the lights off while I did it. We did have a few complaints from other members in the club because the room where my table is also has two other tables and the glare can affect people playing on them. Some of the lads have pointed out that trying to pot the yellow into the baulk pockets is like playing directly towards car headlights. On the other hand, the veterans team absolutely love it. They play all their league matches on the table next to mine, and because snooker clubs are usually pretty dark and they’re pretty old, they used to spend most of their time complaining they couldn’t see. All you’d hear on a Wednesday afternoon was, “I can’t see them balls down there. It’s too dark in ‘ere.” Well now they can see everything perfectly so they’ve no more excuses.

Alan McManus plays at the Northern Snooker Centre with much more normal lighting

The first real test of the new lights came a few weeks later at the Northern Ireland Trophy. Nigel Bond was waiting for me in Belfast and I got the distinct impression that he’d somehow hit upon the idea that the easiest way to beat me was to slow the game down with as much negative safety as possible. To stifle me with stodge. It’s not his natural game, and it was painful, but I felt so comfortable under the lights that I had the confidence and peace of mind just to accept the circumstances and to play solidly for as long as it took. I ended up winning 5-1, with apologies to anyone who had to watch. By the end of the season, the new lights had more than earned their keep. Even Shokat had finally come to appreciate the benefits of having them. He loves practicing with them on now, and when I’m not around I think he uses them to top up his tan.

Stuart would like to thank everyone who offered their views on his efforts so far, especially those who took the time to email him directly. The support is appreciated and he assures me that he will get round to replying to all correspondence in due course.