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The Dream is sadly over, as I am told that a select number of "patrons" are being allowed to re-enter the laboratory-clean Crucible for the 2021 renewal.
To describe them as "patrons" dignifies them of course. The expression "crisp packet rustling, stale pork pie chomping, violently flatulent, malodorous, coughing sub-prime oxygen thieves" would on reflection seem more appropriate. The sort of individuals who would of course have been taking bets amongst themselves about who could eructate the loudest at Prince Phillip's funeral, had they been invited. Surely the custodians of the game will at least arm the stewards and security staff with automatic weapons as some form of deterrent against the polluting of the Crucible? I'm sure that all long-suffering true fans of the sport would welcome that long-overdue initiative. |
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At last some common sense on the way forward for the game. I, for one, would like to see the sacred Crucible Theatre Sheffield transported brick by brick and painstakingly rebuilt within the international space station. Players and officials could be translated there annually via a special Elon Musk shuttle service. Surely only the vast plenum of space can protect the pristine integrity of the event from the grubby, flatulant snack-fiddlers you rightly castigate Alun?
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Hi Alun
Any thoughts in a decade or so ,the Audience full of Vegans gaff will be full of Gas and trumpeters . |
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Imagine some down on the Black for a 147 and a screecher is let rip
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Have to give World Snooker some credit this year, forcing the crucibalites to wear masks to ensure they are rconstantky reminded that their voices should not be heard.
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The Crucible had ANOTHER day of shame on Friday. The referee not only had to warn umpteen people about mobile phones, which were loud and persistent, but also made specific reference to stop "rustling your sweet wrappers". I noted that even one of the commentators said that the ref's words would be 'music to the ears of the players'.
The masks also of course perform one other vital duty. They help the handful of decent patrons from having to sit through the malodourous stench that pervades the sacred Crucible from the persistent, unfettered and shameless flatulence of the vast majority. |
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Having said that about the masks, having seen most of the examples being worn by the "patrons" in the arena this morning, it's fairly clear that they have been hastily assembled. Those particular 'masks' resemble nothing more than a pair of their unmarried grandmother's panties (probably unwashed) with a string tied to the sides. Most unseemly.
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Ye Gods, it's bad enough that the Crucible has to endure malodorous sub-prime patrons, but now they're even allowing PIGEONS into the arena and settling on the sacred tables.
It's a real shame the thing didn't land on the table that "On Fire" was playing on. It wouldn't have done it again. |
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Whilst I am happy to hear the hardline clampdown by one of the referees on the rustling of sweet wrappers, the warnings don't go far enough for my liking.
If these recidivists like sweets so much why don't Security teams just drive them at gunpoint to a factory where sweets are made and they can maybe be forcibly added to the sweet mixture in boiling hot vats of sugary liquid? The sooner the better Crucible is rid of these menaces. |
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hmmm alun, be careful what you wish for. I know you're partial to a slice of cake... a sweet tooth mayb?
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perhaps* not 'mayb'... ffs
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The Year of Our Lord 2024.
Sadly the dream of keeping the One Table Crucible Arena devoid of crisp-crunching, sweet wrapper rustling, mobile phone using, earpiece volume twiddlers and violently flatulent sub-prime ragamuffin patrons seemingly remains as far away as ever. Last night we even had the unseemly spectacle of subprimers arrogantly walking unchallenged through the doors to the arena, wilfully breaking wind loudly as they did so, while Bingham-O'Sullivan was in-play at a tense stage. All this despite Mistress Desi rightly calling for the doors to be shut and not re-opened. Many siren voices have been heard calling of the tournament to be relocated to Saudi Arabia or China, and immediately criticised for their views. Those critics should think again. The only remaining hope is that the Crucible CAN be rebuilt, brick by brick, and relocated to Saudi Arabia, where crowd offenders could potentially be brought to justice without trial in "Chop Chop Square" In the meantime, the Crucible could actually do a few things that would bring some comfort and relaxation to the 4 warriors remaining in contention. Given that there is now much more space to play with, and the players don't have to sit beside each other all cramped up, let them each have a special 'Players Area' to enjoy. Let there be brand new Chesterfield leather sofas where masseuses and female companions can sit beside the players. Let there be a coffee table with a nice selection of books, telephone boxes installed where players can make private calls, and sunken jacuzzis. I would also like the players to have access to gym equipment in the arena, Wouldn't it be just fantastic to see Butcher Bingham do a full 30 minute boxing workout, then having a refreshing jacuzzi relaxation while Jak Jones remorselessly and meticulously compiles a 23 break, Do I have your agreement gentlemen? Enjoy what's left of the 17 day marathon of the mind. |
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I noticed in this tournament at least one fella cheerfully supping his pint? Has that always been allowed in there, seems rather mad.
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haven't seen al post this year
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Hi Wonders - I was regrettably unable to add my highly-valued, eagerly-awaited astute insights during the "17 day Marathon of the Mind" at Sheffield" in 2025. I think we will all agree the tournament lost around 97% of its fading appeal when Butcher Bingham failed to get through qualifying.
Still, good to see your name here and kindest regards. |
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ballrun looking trim these days!!
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Thank you. That is something I must see.
With luck, a case of "Mens sana in corpore sano", although I personally have doubts about the first half of that 1st century epigram where 99% of baize boys are concerned. |
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"while Jak Jones remorselessly and meticulously compiles a 23 break"
'remorselessly and meticulously" ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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Surely just get something to replicate what the players are doing around the table, a big telly, holograms, AI or whatever. The crowd can watch that while the actual matches are played somewhere nice and quiet somewhere else. Come on Barry, you can have that idea.
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A superb suggestion. If AI can't do that then quite honestly it's A303.
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shootout chanting during the world championship during that epic 14th frame today...the game's gone
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Awful wasn't it? And the Home Secretary has said NOTHING about it.
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White City, with an all grass track on Derby final night, was truly a sight to behold.
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The venue is learning that if your patrons are the flatulent malodorous subprime, then prepare for disaster. By 2045 I fear they will be openly trading crisps, past-the-sell-by-date Scotch Eggs and probably crystal meth in the aisles.
It's not dissimilar to the catastrophe that has befallen Britain from importing the Third World. Lessons won't be learned it seems. |
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All my warnings about the Crucible and its subprime patrons fell on deaf ears but tonight's appalling antics proved me right. FFS shouting about the Epstein Files. Whatever next? Holding up 'Ton Up" banners but with scurrilous claims about Dirty Den or Len Fairclough on the reverse?
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In the blink of an eye it'll be half and half waistcoats and 'Please Shaun can I have your bow-tie' placards.
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And another protestor, shouting about the TV Licence????
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