Over the course of what is almost 20 years in ‘the game’ (good grief ! :shock: ), Ive come across many characters through pool. The combination of an indoor sport and an excuse to be out drinking at the same time is bound to produce its fair share of oddballs that you wouldn't normally be exposed to. While I was at my parents house a few weeks ago I found an old Thames Valley Pool Newsletter from 1991 (can it really be 16 years ago ?). It was at the end of the summer season when the committee had decided to count up the averages of every player and keep a running total to see who was the ‘numero uno honcho’.

As I was skimming through the list and jogging my memory over some of the names of players I had met, I came across Len Hodges - Willow Wanderers sitting at number 33.

Having played a couple of seasons for the Irish club, myself and Kevin Southam were invited to go and play for Robert Uzzells side at the Willows caravan park in Windsor. Every Tuesday night the taxi would arrive at 7 o’clock and Robert , Kevin , Scott Yardley and me would head over for another night of Stella tops and pool down Windsor way. Completing the line up of the side was Bobby Nicholas, Neil Dodd, Bob Hancock, 'the Splatman' Steve Platt and Lucky Lenny.

Lenny didn't make it every week but the first time I saw him Robert explained why he was nicknamed Lucky. Among other ailments (which Rob can fill you in on), Lenny had a clubbed foot, one lung and one nut plus many other medical deficiencies that I wasn't aware off until later that night.

His most remarkable talent though was that he had the ability to break wind at will. For most of the season he left Kevin and I in tears as he would wait until his opponent was on a crucial ball before letting one go. His range was incredible, you could have anything from something that sounded like a Harley going past, to a squeeking noise that was like someone letting a balloon down really slowly. There was one night where he kept going for a full two minutes while sitting on the couch at Willows. It was a skill that any 17 year old would love to have to take to school with him.

The first night that I met him we were playing at a pub in Dedworth. Lenny had just won his frame and we were sat at the bar getting a round in when the barman offered Lenny his congratulations on winning. While Lenny was telling us about his ‘problems’ he bet the barman £10 that he could bite his own eye. The barman, knowing full well that no one offers such a bet unless they can do it politely declined but still wanted to know how Lenny was going to pull off such a feat.

So Lenny casually lowered his head, put his hands over his face and then emerged with his glass eye in his mouth! The barman almost toppled over backwards in shock but managed to regain his composure far quicker than I did as I just sat there with my jaw dropped to the ground. As Lenny took the eye out of his mouth and the barman jokes “I bet you £10 you cant bite your other eye”.

“You are on” says Lenny and he leans forward again.

Bearing in mind I had only just met him and we had just seen him win his pool match you couldn't help wonder how on earth he was going to pull this off - surely he couldnt have TWO glass eyes ?

Moments later Lenny brings his head back up and the barman says “BLOODY HELL! “

Lenny turns round and this time he had pulled out his false teeth and clamped them round the other eye !!

While he sat there laughing with his teeth hanging off his eyeball, he raised one cheek off the bar stool and lets rip a triumphant fanfare – it went off like a dozen rusty trombones. :?