The joke is now always on us, Robin Gibb

I once knew a barman who would play me for free drinks at darts. When he had bled me dry, he would offer me the chance to get a free drink. What did I have to do? Dance to ‘Saturday Night Fever’. That is the best measure of the global influence of the Bee Gees. After all, this used to happen at a pub in Pune. Then there is the song ‘I Started a Joke’, made poignant by love – if I could only see, that the joke was on me. I dug the Bee Gees, man. RIP, Robin Gibb.

King Hendry, thank-you for the potting

I have a college degree in snooker with two minors - in billiards and pool. In my youth, Stephen Hendry was the greatest player alive. Not the most exciting, but certainly, the greatest. I quote a sportswriter, out of context, to capture Hendry, The Great: “With a pallor that suggested his skin had not seen sunlight for years, he potted the balls… again and again, for hours on end… no, days on end.” And I add, “Till he won”. Hendry retired last week. Hendry, in his prime, versus Ronnie O’Sullivan (in his prime). That would have been a master-class.