Comment: Demolished by the Gentleman

Joe Perry – last season's Player Championships victor and the planet's ninth best snooker player – could see it was up in the air, and as the referee revealed I had correctly called the coin toss, the Cambridgeshire ace knew he was a beaten man.

As for the snooker, I will claim a moral victory as I significantly passed my own expectations on the Staffs and West Mids League's presentation evening, although things didn't get off to the best of starts.

Visions of ripping the pristine playing surface of Bilston Golden Cue's match table as I broke off meant I bottled it and I allowed my esteemed opponent to do the honours.

That was the first of a catalogue of errors.

Five seconds later I found myself assessing the situation as I could see just the edge of one of the 15 reds and was trapped right on the baulk cushion.

I've played countless times with friends and there's always a red to have a crack at off the break, but Perry looked, if anything, not entirely happy with his break. A perfectionist, clearly.

My first objective was to hit the red. Achieved.

And that's when it started to go downhill. The it being the cue ball and the hill being the bottom right pocket.

A slight consolation was the red rebounded up the table and into the top left corner – but any hope of the referee bending the rules so I couldn't be whitewashed by giving me the point despite my foul were dismissed with a pitying glance.

We exchanged a few shots, but my unorthodox style – leaving the balls splayed across the baize – meant Perry could not get into any sort of rhythm.

Either that, or he was constantly trying to lay them up for me and I kept letting him down.

Trying to leave the cue ball in a place he couldn't pot from was the most difficult thing and eventually he got bored and knocked in a half-century to leave me well and truly on the back foot, but I wasn't finished yet.

Finally, I had a clear chance. The ball was over the pocket.

Two hundred pairs of eyes bore into me, wondering if I'd look even more of a plonker than I already did. They were to be disappointed.

I sunk the red and couldn't stop a huge grin spreading across my face. I just about stopped myself going all Dennis Taylor, sinking to my knees with my cue – kindly borrowed from behind the bar – raised above my head.

Although I missed the black off its spot, my finest moment was still to come.

There are many satisfying sounds in sport – the roar of the old Formula One V8 engines, a perfect golf drive, the crunch of a perfectly-timed tackle in football – but there with the very best is when you pot a ball that thwacks off the wood at the back of the pocket.

And when I lined up a questionable red into the right centre, I drove it in with the venom and the accuracy that produced that very noise. My night was made.

The fact Perry went on to close it out 105-2 was trivial.

I had surpassed my expectations, even if my highest break of one was nowhere near my career best of 22 (twice).

Joe Perry may be a gentleman, as his nickname tells you, but he's a ruthless one at that.