There are several great things about the Mosconi Cup, but my personal favourite is the referee. He stands in the middle of the arena wearing a short-sleeved shirt and little white gloves, and his half-hearted attempts to settle down the boisterous crowd garner all the respect of a supply teacher on the last day of term. You don’t get that at the Crucible.
It’s Friday night at Alexandra Palace, and it’s raucous. This is pool’s answer to the Ryder Cup, where Europe take on America in an old, bitter rivalry. To reach the middle, players must first descend a steep flight of stairs through a crowd of baying fans. The Americans are hounded with boos and jeers; the Europeans are hailed and high-fived as “Seven Nation Army” blares.
