http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/20...the-white-ball
now watch him run a guy out, and while doing it, asking what the prize money for a 147 (a perfect snooker game) is.
the ref tells him that there is no bonus for a 147, only a high rack bonus (which he was going to get anyway)
I guess a story goes that he got tired of Snooker championships not offering big prizes for 147's anymore. So he started shooting 146's. When asked why he'd do that, he gave the most Ungar-esque comment i've read ever: "Because I'm the only one who can shoot a 146 when I want to."
I've never played snooker, but there is a table at the pool hall i play at. The table is a fucking monster.