So ... does Voldemort play snooker?
As some of you may know, I've been spending a lot of the last week in front of the telly watching the 888.com World Championship snooker. The final concludes today, and I was a traitor to it for five minutes last night, when I changed channels to watch The Sky At Night for its 50th anniversary programme.
So, this morning, I read my way through the Times news pages, and skipped most of the sports pages apart from a quick glance at the cricket headlines, and came to page 64, with reports on the snooker, and an interesting article on how Mark Selby, who has made it to the final as an unseeded qualifier, has mastered the art of staying menacing even while not at the table, while sitting in the chair waiting. Waiting With Intent, perhaps. The reporter, Matthew Syed, starts and concludes his article with brief mentions of Ali Carter, defeated by Selby in the quarter-final round. Carter was 'slumped in his chair ... his limp body drained of life force, his normally dancing eyes staring into the void like those of a man who has been seduced by the darkness...' says Syed at the start; and, at the end, he writes that Carter, normally likeable and mischievous, was 'on that night ... utterly spent, listless and lifeless, like someone who has had his soul sucked out by a ghostly Dementor.'
I must look more closely at Mark Selby this afternoon. Do his eyes glow red? Does his snooker cue have a core of Phoenix feather? Inquiring minds need to know.
So, this morning, I read my way through the Times news pages, and skipped most of the sports pages apart from a quick glance at the cricket headlines, and came to page 64, with reports on the snooker, and an interesting article on how Mark Selby, who has made it to the final as an unseeded qualifier, has mastered the art of staying menacing even while not at the table, while sitting in the chair waiting. Waiting With Intent, perhaps. The reporter, Matthew Syed, starts and concludes his article with brief mentions of Ali Carter, defeated by Selby in the quarter-final round. Carter was 'slumped in his chair ... his limp body drained of life force, his normally dancing eyes staring into the void like those of a man who has been seduced by the darkness...' says Syed at the start; and, at the end, he writes that Carter, normally likeable and mischievous, was 'on that night ... utterly spent, listless and lifeless, like someone who has had his soul sucked out by a ghostly Dementor.'
I must look more closely at Mark Selby this afternoon. Do his eyes glow red? Does his snooker cue have a core of Phoenix feather? Inquiring minds need to know.
