I always enjoy reading Simon Barnes in The Times.
Here's his take today on the UK Championship:
It is rare that a sponsor can itself be an attraction to a sporting event. But the Pukka Pies UK Championship is a glorious thing, quite impossible to say without a smirk. It’s not exactly Asprey’s, is it? It’s snooker, of course, and it reminds me of my days at Fisher’s snooker hall in Wimbledon, eating bacon sandwiches and drinking stewed tea as I and my colleague on the Wimbledon News played for the Pot White championship.
Snooker’s great beauty is that its greatest tensions and its toughest battles are gloriously soporific: hypnotising the viewer into a Zen-like state of empty-mindedness. The patterns, the collisions, the colours; all the rivalry, all the anxiety, all the desperation is refined into a calming click-clack of dancing spheres.
Snooker is an enthralling game, and perhaps the only one in which one might find enlightenment. It’s all about calculation, about mathematics in action. It comes down to the impossible: who could ever calculate the square root of Pukka Pie?