A Personal View by Colin White, as it first appeared in the 'Amateur Billiard Player' of May 1999.
Colin's reflections on the Institute and on Norman Dagley.
Reproduced here with kind permission of Colin.
Although 57 years have passed since I first crossed its threshold, I remember the old Earl Shilton Social Institute as though it were
yesterday.
A flight of steps led up from Station Road to an unpretentious red brick building through the doors of which a passage, bounded on
either side by various rooms, led to a much longer full width room with wooden bench seating worn smooth and shiny with the polishing effect
of numerous posteriors, a small private kiosk from which the steward, 'Siah (Josiah) Pratt controlled the proceedings and 5 full-size billiard
tables ranged side by side with the favourite No 3 in the centre.
I call them billiard tables because in those dark days of the early 1940s,
when England was in danger of becoming part of the 3rd Reich, the game of billiards still held ascendancy over the usurper called snooker.
We teenagers would meet at the 'Stute on Saturday mornings or afternoons and, almost invariably, the evenings for a game of billiards or
snooker. This, supplemented by perhaps a couple of visits during the week and Saturday night ‘hops´, was our world of entertainment and very
contented we were in those otherwise austere times.
So popular was the 'stute that eventually another table was bought and installed in the room immediately inside the front door on the right.
It was (not surprisingly) numbered 6, but it was a slow, dead, isolated table, which no-one played on unless forced to do so by high booking
numbers. It was removed when demand for table time diminished and no-one was sorry to see it go.
By comparison table No 3 was like glass and
most of us ham-fisted youths found it a very difficult table to play on. Yet there was one person who could perform wonders on this, his
favourite table: his name was Reg Wright. Reg it was who spotted another young talented player from among the many youths frequenting the
'stute and Reg it was who taught this youth everything he knew and, as seems to be the usual pattern, was himself surpassed in skill and
achievements by his erstwhile pupil. We, with typical Midland penchant for abbreviating names, called him ‘Dag´ but the world at large was to
hear about his exploits by his full name - Norman Dagley.
I suppose it would have been approaching Christmas 1943 when 'Siah organised a tournament with a chicken as the prize. In those days of food
shortages, when the occasional rabbit or wood pigeon was a rare but welcome addition to our diet, the prospect of dining off chicken was
indeed attractive and the entry list was soon full. To cut a long story short somehow or other I managed to reach the final only to be beaten
by Norman on the black. Yes, the black. Norman played in at least one snooker tournament, albeit as a young person of about 14, but he was the
one who went home with a smile on his face and a chicken under his arm. I suppose this must have been the first of Norman's countless
conquests where a prize was at stake and I was the unfortunate victim.
Norman's temporary excursion into snooker was, I have no doubt, severely criticised by the Wright family who, I understand, would have nothing
to do with such an inferior game; in fact, even billiards had to be played within extremely tight ethical constraints and exacting positional
limits. Reg would give Norman a task to master and would not be satisfied until stroke, score and perfect after position was achieved time and
again. He would, for instance, lightly mark a 3" x 3" square on both sides of the table into which the cue ball, following a pot red in
postman's knock sequence, would have to come to rest for the next stroke. Even when Norman made his first 100+ break, Reg's response was less
than complimentary. "Well Norman" he said, "you've done it at last, and a right mess you made of it too". Reg was a very demanding tutor but
as we all know it paid off in the long run.
At this time Norman was playing with the cue which he used all his career. We boys had already saved up our pennies and bought cues which the
paternal 'Siah had obtained from somewhere; plain one- piece maple cues with just a single mahogany splice, costing us 15s; or in present day
terms 75p. I still have mine in the rack and it is still perfectly straight. Norman's one-piece cue was very superior, being made of ash with
4 ebony splices, costing I suppose in the region of £5. To put these figures into perspective let me say that my first wage packet in 1941 was
9s 6d (48p) while people working on munitions manufacture in Coventry were earning the unbelievably high wage of around £15 per week. Norman's
cue, despite being worn away under the tip through years of chalking, served him well and as he said to me in 1987 after pulling off the grand
slam, "This is the cue I bought down the old Institute and I've never wanted any other".
A few years later saw all the friends serving in the forces in one way or another. Norman told me of joining the air force and hating every
minute of it, threatening to abscond on several occasions. Fortunately, as he told me, his father dissuaded him from taking such a course of
action because if he did, his dad warned him, they would hunt him down and imprison him which would be infinitely worse than sticking it out.
Norman's achievements in the years following demobilisation are well documented and I regret not having seen him play in his many amateur
victories. Despite his achievements in later professional years, his outstanding performances while still an amateur must rank these times as
his purple period.
Although I had read of Norman's successes in the Leicester Mercury and the Hinckley Times during our visits back to our parents, it was not
until 1987 that I saw him again. I had recently resumed playing snooker, and had only then learned of the existence of the local Sandford
Orcas and District Billiards League. I knew Jack Masters of Wincanton, a long standing player in the Sandford League, through playing snooker
against him, and I suggested that we might put on an exhibition if Norman were agreeable. On seeing Norman he readily agreed and so it was
that he and his wife Nita stayed in our holiday cottage for a week, in return for which he played at Wincanton against his long- time amateur
adversary Dick Watts. I recall that eventually we succeeded in getting an audience of 80 which, compared with present day interest, was quite
rewarding. But then, they were watching the current World, European and British Champion. I doubt whether Wincanton will ever see the like
again.
Over the next 12 years we met from time to time and I had a number of games with him, but It was not until April 1998 that he came to Mere
again to stay with us, and to perform with Roxton Chapman at Wincanton. He had recovered from a burst blood vessel on the brain some years
before and a lymphatic gland 'disorder' the previous year, but these afflictions had left their mark. I think Norman recognised this when he
referred to himself as being 'in the twilight' of his career.
Even so, he was still the entertainer, full of humour and clean but unrepeatable jokes. Every time we visited him at Earl Shilton he would ply
us with tea, tales of foreign visits (especially India) and numerous jokes and tales about the WPBSA. He was never slow to present a bouquet
or throw a brick bat. Norman revered Walter Lindrum, he referred to Herbert Beetham as a perfect gentleman and praised Mike Russell by saying,
"You know Colin he is good: he learned in one year what took me five". At the same time he deplored the activities of some WPBSA officials
(now fortunately gone), the sometimes outrageous behaviour of professional players which reflected badly on both snooker and billiards, and
the appearance of any player looking less than smartly dressed. The last time I saw Norman was at Darley Dale in November 1998. He was, even
then, one of the best dressed persons in the room.
On one of our visits to him during his last illness he reflected on the fickle nature of the local people. When he was winning and the papers
were full of captions like "Demon Dagley does it again", everyone wanted to greet him, congratulate him, rub shoulders with him. But he was
hurt when after his best years, the very same people wouldn't even pass the time of day. Fortunately the billiard playing fraternity are not
like that. He was still as popular as ever when he played last year at Wincanton. He even went to the billiard room on Saturday morning to see
how the lads from Derbyshire were 'getting on', he sat through our friendly Black Pudding/Scrumpy thrash-about on Saturday night and
afterwards gave a cabaret joke-telling performance for around ½ hour. Norman was still the extrovert entertainer.
We finally bid our goodbyes at Nuneaton on 20th January 1999 when a great number of people, including former opponents, paid last respects.
There were many misty eyes that day and many people were obviously greatly affected. We had, I am sure, begun to think of him as being almost
indestructible. Well, Norman was not as Immortal as we might have thought or hoped, but his personality and his achievements will live as long
as billiards is played and long after that. Were it possible to see him for just one brief moment more I am sure that everyone would join me
in saying, "Thank you Norm for giving so much pleasure and being an inspiration to so many billiard players".
Norman Dagley was born in Earl Shilton and remained a resident of the Leicestershire village throughout his life. In his early days he was
above average at both cricket and football. He was captain of the local Grammar School at cricket—a game he loved passionately, also having a
trial for the Leicestershire county side as a spin bowler. At football he had a trial on the right-wing for Aston Villa.
His early working life included 20 years at Eatough´s Shoe Factory, national service in the Royal Air Force, a spell as a bus driver, then a
chauffeur, and finally he worked as a supervisor at the Atack Snooker Centre in Nuneaton. But it was at billiards that Norman gained his
international recognition.
He was taught to play the game at the Earl Shilton Institute by Reg Wright of Barwell, and throughout his career he could never praise Reg
enough, attributing his success to having been taught the game correctly in his formative years. Reg Wright was himself a top class amateur
player who was always striving for perfection in his play. He was a great coach and mentor for Dagley and he taught him every facet of the
game, refusing to let Norman play on the "big match" scene until Wright considered he was "ready". When this day arrived, Norman entered the
English Amateur Championship and became part of what must be regarded as the halcyon days of the amateur game. At this time the Championship
was played out from the last 32 at Burroughes & Watts Hall in Soho Square, London where there was terrific opposition from the likes of Leslie
Driffield, Herbert Beetham, Frank Edwards, Alf Nolan and Jack Karnehm—all champions in their own right—plus many more very good players.
Dagley soon made his mark and eventually set up a record sequence of championship wins—15 in all. He also won the CIU Individual Championship
a record 11 times, on occasion´s travelling 200 miles to play a game of 350 up. In one round of the CIU he made a break of 349 unfinished
against the unfortunate Les Kitchen, who had travelled all the way from Portsmouth for the privileged of witnessing this feat
Dagley played in many different countries including Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Malta and India. He made a total of 16 trips to India,
where he was always treated like royalty. In the course of his travels he collected two World Amateur titles. His first was in Malta in 1971,
the second in Auckland, New Zealand in 1975. Indeed, for a long time he was almost invincible on the amateur circuit.
As his game grew in stature he began to improvise, especially with top-of-the-table, and he had many tricks and moves which would allow him to
continue a break when all seemed lost. He always referred to "postman´s knock" in this way : "If your opponent´s white is trapped on the top
cushion behind the spot you´ve only got two balls to worry about, not three". Dagley, for all his good grounding, had several other things in
his armoury; he was a brilliant potter, had a steely determination and an ice-cool temperament; was able to sit out while his opponent held
the table and then come back to punish him for any mistake he made.
Norman turned professional after his last Amateur Championship win in 1984 and subsequently won two World Professional titles. His first came
in 1987, when he completed a "Grand Slam" by also taking the European and United Kingdom Championships. He retained his World Championship the
following year.
Of all the events in which he played, his favourite by far was the annual "Darley Dale" invitation tournament in Derbyshire. Organised by Jim
McCann and Malcolm Gregory, this brought together four top professional players in a series of 50 minute matches.
Throughout his career, Norman always showed great sportsmanship and was a good ambassador for both billiards and his country. He was very good
company to be with, always ready for a laugh and a joke, and he will be sadly missed by his many friends around the World. Truly a legend in
the game in his own lifetime—Contributors : Richie Evans John Quartermain and others.