
When It’s Not Your Night — But You’re Developing a Strong Mindset...
I played in the league again this week against a strong set of players in Oxshott B.
If I’m honest, before the match even started I half expected to get hammered. I was nervous. There are some very capable players in that B team, and on paper it looked like a tough evening ahead.
But the story didn’t quite go that way. In the first frame certainly.
In the first frame I narrowly lost on the colours. That alone told me something important — I wasn’t being blown away. I was competing. I was in the balls. I was applying myself properly.
I stuck to the fundamentals in my game. It doesn’t always matter what the result is, it is what you get out of it that is important.
The second frame, however, felt completely different. Everything felt slightly off. Rhythm wasn’t there. Timing wasn’t quite right. Perhaps it was tiredness. Perhaps just one of those natural dips in form. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t get any real flow going.
And yet, despite that, I stuck to my fundamentals.
I didn’t rush.
I didn’t panic.
I didn’t abandon my technique trying to “force” something to happen.
Instead, I accepted that it might not be my night.
That acceptance wasn’t defeatist. It was controlled. That is proper emotional maturity. I was naturally disappointed — of course I was. But I’ve learned that frustration doesn’t need to take over.
I’ve had far deeper blows in life than losing a couple of frames of snooker here and there. Perspective helps. What is most enjoyable is knowing it’s not the end of the world. And I enjoyed it.
What I’ve realised is this: technique and performance fluctuate.
You can feel solid in practice and slightly clunky in competition. You can lose frames but still feel pleased with how you struck the ball.
You can have a night where the scoreboard doesn’t reflect the work you’ve been putting in on and off the table. Sport is tough. But the strongest people like me keep it going and accept that form dips and progress happens sometimes in fits and starts.
That doesn’t mean you’re not improving.
In fact, sometimes it means the opposite.
When you’re refining fundamentals — stance, cue action, alignment, decision-making — it can feel uncomfortable before it feels automatic. You become more aware. More analytical. Less “flowing” for a while. But underneath that slight awkwardness, something deeper is forming.

There are a couple of things I’m doing at the moment that seem “alien” but I am pleased with my performances and enjoyment.
See this video: It’s actually to do with arcing the elbow slightly and not having a straight bridge arm – it feels weird because I am actually used to completely having a straight arm out. I think it is John Parrott that mentions it in this video: A useful thing to try out on shots. I am going to stick with this for a bit to see if there’s any improvement in it. When you find something that consistently works – stick with it. We’re all sometimes looking for that extra 10% that could improve our techniques even further. Sometimes, you have to go back to the drawing board to find out what you can do and if you have missed anything. Keeping your head down was another thing I tried to do as well – I think the second frame was just fatigue in the end, and just felt genuinely flat.
Belief.
The biggest lesson for me wasn’t technical. It was mental.
Even in adversity, I believed I was there.
Even when things weren’t clicking, I stayed composed.
Even when I felt disappointed, I chose to say, “I enjoyed that.”
That mindset protects you. It keeps the long game intact.
Because here’s the truth about league snooker: not every night will be electric. Some evenings will feel sharp and confident. Others will feel flat. The key isn’t demanding brilliance every time — it’s managing the fluctuations.
It’s knowing that you’re going to get nights where it feels flat and nights where you wound up feeling on top of the world with everything in your game.
Form is temporary.
A bad frame is temporary. like my second frame.
Even a bad run is temporary. But that run can change quickly – or sometimes, it needs time to develop.
But how you respond? That builds something lasting.
I genuinely feel I’m going through a deeper learning curve at the moment. It may not always show up immediately on the scoreboard, but internally there’s growth happening — in resilience, in perspective, in stability.
And I know this: the next match could feel completely different.
That’s the beauty of the game.
Sometimes it’s not your night.
But if you stay with it, keep your fundamentals in tact, and protect your belief, your night will come. I’ve had those this season, and I’ve also had nights like this week where it was a mixed bag, but, the interesting thing is, as long as you’re still enjoying the game it doesn’t really matter what the scoreboard says from one week to the next if you feel the growth is there and you’re learning lessons.
Just keep enjoying and keep learning.
