It is one hundred years since Lindrum was born
. Thirty-Eight since he left us, we remember and mourn
For outstanding champions seldom are seen
, Immortals are rarer and few there have been
who excelled at their sport with his skill and his flair
. He shattered opponents, they were left in despair.
Lindrum played billiards like Mozart composed,
His genius inspired, your emotions exposed.
Enthralled you will listen to the tune from his table,
for Lindrum made music as a Maestro is able.
His cue a Baton that caressed and excited
each change in the tempo surprised and delighted,
till there came a crescendo you felt you should cheer
, but on went the music, no end was near.
Rules were soon altered, "He's too good" they said
"He has to stop cannons, play in-offs instead':
But it just didn't matter what committee decreed,
He kept on scoring at incredible speed
Record after record flowed from his cue,
How good was Lindrum? -- Well, all the World new.
He defeated the best in September '31 for a Gold Cup in England
and his Legend begun.
Gave 7000 start to the best in the land,
The King called for Lindrum, he was in great demand.
He met every challenge thrown in his way,
Became the World Champion in an awesome display.
He defeated Joe Davis with nonchalant ease,
Lindrum untroubled, just did as he pleased.
He returned to Australia, winning at will
, He gave exhibitions, every hall he would fill
Raised millions for charity and the same for the War,
playing on those tables not seen before.
his break of 4000 will never be beat,
made in three hours, a miraculous feat.
When we toast Walter Lindrum we are toasting the Gums,
We are toasting the Wattle as well as this Son,
Who was born of Australia, a spirit of our nation,
Like Sir Donald Bradman he had one destination,
To inspire all Australians to reach greater heights
and that feeling is with us, I sense it tonight.
When I'm near the ‘Mechanics’, I sometimes go in,
It’s long since deserted, no tables with-in,
I stand by the wall, where cue's filled the rack
, I gaze over that room my memory goes back
to the day Lindrum played there, I see him once more,
A Master at work, A Magician for sure.
And I again hear the music in that old empty hall,
The call of "One Thousand" as he pots a red ball.
I see him shake hands in his dignified way,
Hear the thunderous applause as he continues to play
Long ‘jennies’ and ‘masse's’, ‘drags’ and ‘check side’
those balls at his mercy with no-where to hide.
I leave the room proudly with head held up high,
Knowing Walter Lindrums immortal while I’m passing by.
Barry from the Bush. 31/07/1998 |
