Pool on a Roof

Since Louis XIV added it to the less innocent pleasures of his court, the pastime of billiards has had many offspring. Most impolite child is pool, which well-meaning persons have tried to dignify by calling it pocket billiards, publicizing it as a family game, rigging up modernistic equipment. Fortnight ago, when the world's championship opened on the Roof Garden of Manhattan's Hotel Pennsylvania, the players maneuvered stiffly in dinner jackets before a sparkling audience on tiers of blue & gold seats, longed vainly for spittoons and overhead counters. A preopening shot was more reminiscent of the squalling & brawling of the corner pool parlor. Titleholder Ponzi refused to play unless paid a $1,000 bonus, sought an injunction against the tournament's sponsors. When this was denied, he sulked in his own emporium.

Three onetime champions and a group of able youngsters, however, supplied enough upsets and excitement. Chipper Jimmy Caras, always best on birthdays, celebrated his 25th by blanking Joe Procita, 125-to-0. Bland, bald-headed Bennie Allen, three-time champion, dropped one ball after another into the pockets, gave the boisterous onlookers their greatest thrill by making a straight run of 125. Finally, after two weeks of round-robin, the winner: Caras. 125-to-53.

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