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Since
the Crucible theatre opened in Sheffield, I've been to see almost every kind of
theatrical production.
The crowd roared their appreciation and the lights of the theatre came up to full,
as they rose as a man to their feet.  |
Some were
not so good, but for the most part they have been dramatically credible and of
a good, honest standard. Occasionally
(and more frequently recently) there has been an exceptional piece of eye-goggling
production and performance. For
some of the most dramatic events at the Crucible however, I have to turn to the
unscripted dramas that inevitably come with the World Snooker Championship. The
first, chronologically for me, was the Cliff Thorburn 147 in 1983 - and I can
recall every moment of my coverage as a radio reporter. I
was the only person in the world commentating on it live. BBC Television transmitted
it eight minutes later, or so I was told. I
was perched in my elevated commentary box at the back of the theatre, with a birds-eye
view of both tables.
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| Thorburn
celebrates making snooker history | A
few moments before, I had been in the press room, idly watching progress in the
Saturday afternoon matches. Thorburn/Griffiths
was destined, we thought, to be a protracted affair. Then I was aware that Cliff
had four reds and four blacks off a foul from Terry. I
got the feeling that from the way the balls were placed, there was a chance of
something special. So
I climbed up to my perch and began to report on what turned out to be a truly
sensational sporting event. The
drama unfolded at Cliff's pace. Technically it was not the most difficult frame
to execute and well within the capabilities of an in form, former world champion.
The
only real problem was the yellow ball, which was a distance from both cue ball
and pocket. What
you have to take into account though, is the incredible tension that built up
as the frame progressed. The
second match, on the other table, between big Bill Werbeniuk and the Silver Fox,
David Taylor, had come to a halt, and Bill was peeking round the dividing wall,
urging his Canadian countryman on. The
nearer the 147 drew, the more excited the audience became - every ball that was
potted produced louder and louder cheers. When
the difficult yellow went down, you could cut the air with a swish of your cue.
Hearts
raced as the black went in. Thorburn sank to his knees. Werbeniuk and Griffiths
hugged him. The
crowd roared their appreciation and the lights of the theatre came up to full,
as they rose as a man to their feet. It
was a moment to marvel. Sporting history. The very first 147 break at the Crucible.
A truly
theatrical moment, and one of the main reasons why the players like the Crucible
as a playing venue. It
may be small, compared to some halls, but its atmosphere is electric. -Gerry
Kersey
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