There is a peculiar yet persistent mistake people make when looking at the billiards table. They assume that because the pockets are the most obvious destinations, every ball must presently be traveling toward one.This is not so. A ball may rest against a cushion. It may obstruct another. It may remain somewhere inconvenient for so long that the entire game begins accounting for its presence. It may sit precisely where it is, untouched, while every subsequent shot is calculated around the possibility that disturbing it would create a worse position than simply leaving it alone. None of this means the rules have ceased to function. Quite the contrary, in all honesty. A sufficiently good player understands that forcing every available shot is the behavior of someone more interested in demonstrating their ownership of a cue rather than control over the table. Likewise, measurement is only useful only until one becomes enamored with the numbers enough to mistake their descriptors for causation. You may calculate your angle perfectly. The ball is under no obligation to make the resulting position convenient. There is also a rather charming tendency among spectators to decide that an unsunk ball must be tragic. Stranded, perhaps. Deprived of its rightful pocket. One ought to pity the poor thing for remaining upon the felt. This is sentimental nonsense. Being pocketed is not inherently preferable to remaining in play. Nor is remaining in play necessarily freedom. Sometimes the most consequential object on the table is simply the untouched. Of course, you may stare at the arrangement and draw whatever conclusions please you. That is what spectators are for.
