miss_s_b: (Britishness: Rugger)
miss_s_b ([personal profile] miss_s_b) wrote2010-01-18 00:38
Entry tags:

Curses! Snooker ones, to be specific.

When I was a nipper we used to watch a lot of sport on the telly. My dad and I both love rugger, obvs, but there was also athletics and tennis and snooker and... ah yes, the snooker. Holly and I have been watching the snooker this week. Holly loves Ronnie O'Sullivan, in a way that reminds me very much of how I used to be about Jimmy White.

ANYWAY. When I was a nipper, whoever we wanted to win would always lose in the final when my mum watched it (Jimmy White in the World Snooker Championships, year after year, being a particular bugbear). So my mum was eventually barred from watching after the semis of any championship we cared about, lest The Curse of Mother affect the result.

Tonight Holly and I were watching the final of the Masters. She was getting very excited because Ronnie was winning, and I had all hell on to persuade her to go to bed. Eventually, when Ronnie was nine frames to six ahead, and only needed one more frame to win, I got her to go.

The final score?

O'Sullivan 9 - 10 Selby.

The curse! It lives on!



This blog is proudly sponsored by

To view this post with minimal formatting, click here. To view this post in your own Dreamwidth style, click here.
matgb: Artwork of 19th century upper class anarchist, text: MatGB (Default)

[personal profile] matgb 2010-01-18 01:11 (UTC)(link)
Was it the curse of the mother? Or the curse of the very bored fiancée/stepdad?

Ye gods that was really dull. Still, netbook means I can amuse myself regardless.