It’s that time of the year again! The World Snooker Championships are being broadcast from The Crucible theatre in Sheffield. This is my only appearance during the year as a dedicated sporting spectator, knocking Wimbledon well into second place. So far this year’s competition has been really engaging, with several new and young faces, and some quite startling reversals of expected fortune. I’m in it for the duration.
I was made to think over the past couple of days by one curious feature of the TV commentary. A young competitor named James Cahill has been doing exceptionally well, knocking out the favourite (Ronnie O’Sullivan) and another seasoned campaigner, Stephen McGuire. I couldn’t help but note the way in which the commentators kept remarking on Cahill’s status as an “amateur”. He is an outsider, and not one of the circle of regular faces that keep turning up from one competition to the next. It was unclear whether his success is regarded as a good thing for the sport or (more frequently) as laise majeste. How is it possible that this young pretender can get away with defeating real snooker players? Those who wanted to excuse his presence questioned whether he actually was an “amateur”. Presumably if not, that would have legitimated and explained his success.
It all sounded dreadfully familiar. “Amateur” artists are subjected to exactly the same condescension in this country. I noted that in the application details for a national exhibition this year “professional” and “amateur” artists are subjected to different selection processes. Apparently the quality of the work is not a sufficient guarantee of success. I wonder if we will be able to tell when we see the exhibition which pieces were by “professionals”.