The Proud Peacock:  (by Kevin Newman)

EVEN THOUGH IT WAS A WARM EVENING, THERE WAS THE SLIGHTEST OF BREEZES THAT CARESSED YOUR FACE AS GENTLY AS A FEATHER.

Here walking along the darkened streets are two cousins who have only just met for the first time earlier that day. They were on  their way down  to the local for a beer of two to get to know each other a bit better. The Roebuck seemed to be the place for the task at hand.

Once in the Saloon Bar, they settled into quiet conversation. It was at that moment that a young bloke approached the two cousins asking if one of them could join him in a game of doubles on the pool table. The city cousin said he' d have, a go.  It was then that he saw his opponents. The first, a solid looking bloke with short hair and clean shaven with a face you’d expect to find at the poker table while his partner was a slim and attractive young woman who seemed full of concentration on the table.

The game that followed didn't seem to last all that long. The big bloke and his partner wasted no time in dealing out the punishment for those who dared to challenge them, sinking all of their balls from the table while the city bloke and the younglad had hardly sunk any at all. The game was over in no time and the big bloke once again sat down and waited for his next victims to challenge him to another game.

Upon seeing this, the local cousin then picked up a piece of chalk and wrote both his and his city cousin's initials on the blackboard, under the next two players' initials – BK & KN.  Astounded, the city fella reminded his cousin that he had just lost to the big bloke but his cousin only pointed out that they would make a good team. With that they both sat back quietly at the bar, only this time closely watching the big bloke play.

He certainly had a keen eye and a good knowledge of the game and was quick to point out when he was due two shots for his opponents  mistakes. But the more they watched him the more they realised that he had a cocky arrogance about him.  Sort of strutting around like a peacock with his tail in the air, showing off his colours to all who would look his way and. not even considering the thought of defeat.

Unfortunately, his opponents didn't fair too well and he and his partner once again wasted no time in dealing out the punishment for those playing against them. And so the proud peacock and his offsider win another game. You would think they would tire of winning. But no, his thirst for endless victories drives him on and now the two cousins are to have their turn of the table.

The city bloke sets up the balls. He then moves to the top of the table to give it his best shot at the break. He shoots.

It's a good strong, well spread break, but no ball goes in. And  so it begins, only this game does not go quickly. Instead the two cousins both play their best games, better than either have played for some time. The other blokes in the bar try not to appear  interested, but it's no use. This game is more of an even match. There'll be no  easy win this time. The two cousins have dug their heels in and  are going to go down fighting. It was a great game  for those who played and those who watched.

Both the bloke from the city and his local cousin wanted to shout and carry on with every shot. But no! They both remained calm and appeared unaffected on the outside. This was too important a task for them to throw away the game in a fit of boyish foolishness. So the atmosphere became tense and at times the silence between shots was almost deafening. The two cousins would  pot a few balls and then miss  one and the proud peacock and his partner would do the same.

And  so, now we come to the crunch. The bloke from the city is to have his turn. He has two of his own balls to pot and then the black whereas the proud peacock is already on the black. Both cousins agree that a snooker shot would be best. The city bloke takes careful aim and shoots. The cue ball finds its mark leaving it in a perfect snooker. Then up strides the peacock, so casually that both cousins can't help but be concerned at what he might do. He takes aim and shoots. The cue ball bounces off the first cushion, then the second, heading towards the black, but it falls short and stops dead in the middle of no where. So now the local cousin has  two shots with only two balls and the black to pot for the game.

He walks around the table sizing up the situation. All this time his city cousin is sitting at the bar sweating bullets. Finally he chooses his shot. He takes aim, shoots and pots the first ball. He swings around to face the second ball and can't believe his luck - its already set up. He shoots again and again he sinks the ball. Now he is on the black, only this time its not set up. The cue ball is up one end of the table - the black down the other.

Even with two shots up his sleeve the local cousin realises all too well that if he doesn't pull off this shot that the proud peacock will be strutting around the bar again. So, he leans over the table taking care to shoot true. He makes contact but the black doesn't go in, and it's still not close to the pocket. Not an easy shot by any means. With only , one more shot and the whole game riding on it, the city bloke looks at his cousin and gives a nod as if to say "I know you can do it".

His cousin takes a deep breath. He leans over the table, aims carefully and shoots. The cue ball is moving slowly towards the black. It seems to take forever to get there. Finally, it hits the black sending it right into the top corner pocket, and the cue ball stops short. The game is over! But there is no jumping or shouting for joy. No, both cousins join at the bar once again to have a quiet round of winning drinks together, quite happy to know that they have knocked the proud peacock off his perch.

(Written in 1990 when Kevin Newman visited me in Broome - this story was later published in the local paper called the Broome News)