HE RAN THE BEST BILLIARDS ROOMS IN AUSTRALASIA

Press, Volume C, Issue 29709, 30 December 1961, Page 9

HE RAN THE BEST BILLIARDS ROOMS IN AUSTRALASIA

YOUNG Englishman, trained as • dental mechanic, who went to * Christchurch billiards room to ■Mil the proprietor for two weeks and stayed for 44 yean said goodbye yesterday to the fascinating world he stumbled into purely by chance. The man is Mr AU Munt, a sprightly 70-yeer-old who has run the Grand Billiards Parlours, just off Cathedral square, for all but six of its 50 years. The retirement ot Mr Munt has coincided witfl the closing of the Grand’s doors for the last time: the rooms are to be converted into offices. From the outride the Grand has had an appearance somewhat austere for a billiards parlour: two stained wooden doors leading from a bare corridor of a building in which the rooms of professionals are predominant. Once inside those doors, however, the charm of this long-established place has been readily apparent: the pictures on the wall of Gloaming and other champions of the turf and the postcards and currency from many lands which adorn the tiny office counter have all made their own particular contribution to this impression. Firm Hand But by far the greatest contributor has been Mr Munt himself, for it has been his firm hand, mingled judiciously with a ready wit. that has set the tone for the rooms down through the yeans. Indeed, the conduct of the rooms has become a byword. “No whistling, noise, or Profanity allowed,” proclaims notices on the wall, and Mr Munt has always been quick to remind those who have offended. The results achieved have been a just reward for his faithful adherence to these principles. "You have to be tough to run a good billiards room,” he says. “Scores of times I have taken the balls off the

table and told rowdy or abusive players to leave. On several occasions men. have threatened to throw me out the window, but I’m still here.” It is Mr Muni's proud boast that In his 44 years at the Grand he ban never had to call in the police. His authority has at times been disputed, but always in the end accepted. So much so is this that when he took a trip to the United Kingdom four yean ago and left Mrs Munt in charge, “there was never a word out of place.’’ A Club Mr Munt claims that in time the Grand became more than an ordinary billiards parlour; most of those who played there recognised it as a club, because of the friendly atmosphere that prevailed. His clientele included doctors. dentists, clergymen, reporters, builders, shift workers and "everything but the horse” of those associated with racing. "There wouldn’t be another room in Australasia that would match the Grand for continuity of players," he deciares. “Some kept playing here until they simply faded away.” Mr Munt recalls that the great Walter Lind rum once told him that the Grand was the best room he had played in. From a man who had played in many parts of the world, this was indeed a high compliment. _\ A certain amount of the credit for the Grand's good standing must go to Mr Phil Munn, a prominent bowler and a racehorse owner, who established the rooms 50 years ago. He set out on the right lines and Mr Munt built on his foundations to ensure a fine reputation for the Grand. Born in London, Mr Munt has lived for nearly 50 of his 70 years in Christchurch. The name of Munt has become

well known in sporting circles here, for Mr Munt's two sons, Phillip and Leon, did well at boxing, swimming, and surf life-saving, and his brother. Joe. presented the Munt Cup for boxing to the Christchurch Boys’ High School. He had gained the trophy as the gamest boxer at a tournament in England, fighting three rounds with a broken wrist. A firm conviction that bil-

liards is one of the most skilful of games is held as strongly today as ever by Mr Munt. Millions play the game, he says, but there are few champions and there are very few sports where one man can hold his place at the top for years on end. As

example* he quote* Walter Lindrum and Clark McConachy, the New Zealander who is still playing excellently though weH into his sixties. But, alas, Mr Munt has found the general playing standard has dropped considerably over the years. In the "old days” he could count up to a quarter of his customers at a given time being able to record a break of between 75 and 100 in billiards: now it is unusual for a man to score a break of more than 60.

Playing for money has contributed in no small way to this decline, he feels, and right to the end he has clung to the ideal that the Grand should never become a "gambling joint.” He has told men who have come in with the open intention of playing for money that he prefers not to have their custom. Mr Munt feels, too, that there was much more eagerness to learn the game and improve one's play in earlier days, whereas today it is used to a large extent as a filler of time. In this respect, Mr Munt is firmly of the opinion that the term, "a miss-spent youth,” is a misnomer. “Many young office workers who were among my patrons in earlier days today hold responsible positions in Hereford street,” he says. “They could not have attained’these positions if their youth had been miss-spent.” Mr Munt will be sad to see the last of the Grand, but he is being realistic about it. for he feels that the days of the billiards parlour are numbered. The overhead is too great, for one thing, and clubs and organisations with billiards rooms in their buildings have made definite inroads into the ordinary billiards room keeper's income and captured many of his regular players. “It was a sad day when we finished, not so much because of closing down the Grand, but because we were saying au revoir to a lot of fine fellows.” says Mr Munt, “They have proved to be some of the best men that one could meet and it was their co-operation that made possible a good parlour.”