Some years ago I was playing a game of pool in a pub
called The Durrell on Fulham Road. It was quiet,not many people in.
I was playing with my friend called Bill. He was very good at pool.
In fact he was taking great pleasure in whipping my arse.
The door of the pub opened and in walked John Bindon.
He walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. Once it had arrived he scanned
the room. His eyes fell on the pool table,and he started to walk towards us.
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some change,and plonked enough
for a game on the edge of the table saying 'I will play the winner'.
Bill's face was a picture. Here was one of the hardest blokes in Fulham and
he was going to have to play him at pool. Bill tried quite hard to let me win,
but to no avail. He won. Mr Bindon approached the table with gusto.
He may have been hard,but he was no too good at pool.
He also did not like losing.
It turned into one of the longest games of pool we have known. Bill missing
shots that he would have normally potted blindfold. In the end he managed to
lose. We said our goodbyes,telling Mr Bindon that he was one of the finest
pool players in London. We laughed on the way home.