We once had a player in our team who demanded absolute perfect
silence when he was playing. The St. Stephen’s Club had a large
wooden clock on the wall with quite a loud tick.
Playing there one evening (and not getting much running) our player
kept on looking at this clock during his game, which he eventually lost.
The Secretary of the Club came in, and the conversation went like this:
“Hullo, John – You played yet?”
“Yes – Just finished”
“How did you get on?”
“Lost”, “Hey Len, is that clock an antique?”
“I think it is, it’s been here a long time”
“Wanna sell it?” “I’ll give you a tenner for it”
“No, its not for sale, what do you want it for anyway?”
“So as I can take it outside and put a hammer thro’ it!”