Seriously, who gives a flying fart about snooker any more? It was fine in the 80s, on a fat cathode ray tube when it was raining all the time and the only thing on the radio was the feckin’ Smiths, but these days? Really? All damn evening FFS? Two ugly blokes I’ve never heard of, who probably haven’t got a single Magma album between them (or even know who they are) potting reds and sweating profusely? Give me a break. On the other hand, don’t. Roll on Springwatch.