A spectator thinks of any World Champion Snooker Player. The magician divines the name. There’s more to it than that, of course, and it’s all to do with interlocked or branching anagrams.
Preamble
Snooker is not as popular among the general public as it once was, say back in the 1980s. And it’s likely that most people, if asked to name a snooker player might have to think for a minute. Then they might just come up with Alex Higgins, or, depending on their age, Joe Davis. If they can stretch their minds a little, then Steve Davis and/or Stephen Hendry are the two most likely candidates of the “modern” era. But what price Walter Donaldson? Horace Lindrum? Or even John Pulman? And can anybody really remember Mark Williams? Most of the modern champions are invisible men.
Snooker fans, of course, will be able to reel off chapter and verse, but there again, that’s not quite the requirement. More on this shortly, but for now it is fair to say that a snooker fan asked to “think of any World Champion in the last 25 years” might well be able to do so unaided. And without coming up with either Higgins, Davis or Hendry. Anyway, here we go.
Working
As with all interlocking/branching anagram stuff, the idea is to divine (actually guess) the name or word thought of by the spectator with minimum failure.
The process of divination/guessing usually means no more than two wrong guesses, which is the case here. The guesses take the form of letters of the alphabet. The spectator is invited to really concentrate on the name, but so as to give no external clues, he answers either “Yes” or “No” as mechanically as possible. The performer attempts to pick up clues, either mentally — ESP, or whatever is the current preferred term — or, perhaps more plausibly, by means of some advanced form of body language.
The first wrong guess sometimes provides enough of a clue so that the performer can come up with the right answer on his next guess. More usually the first wrong guess informs the performer that he’s got to branch out in another direction. Even here it’s possible that this wrong guess provides enough of a clue so that the performer can come up with the right answer without any more wrong guesses. Look at figure 1 above. This is the complete list of World Snooker Champions since 1927. It’s also the complete list of snooker World Champions since 1947. Joe Davis held the tile for 20 years and, as mentioned, retired in 1947. Working on the assumption that the average individual may recognise a few of the names when the list is offered, but won’t be able to recall any but the most famous players, a copy of this list needs to be prepared for use in performance. An A4 laminated sheet is just the job for larger audiences; an A5 size list will do for more intimate groups. Mentalism is not perhaps the first thought when it comes to compiling a list of strolling routines, but it shouldn’t be ruled out.
Assuming we have our file of champions, invite a spectator to study the list and to think of any of the names. Assume John Pulman. In order to guess the name with no more than two wrong guesses, proceed as follows. Figure (2) is the crib sheet. The plan is to proceed down the crib by guessing the large letters in turn:
The downward guessing continues for as long as you get “Yes” answers. So, the first guess should be the letter “R”. If you get a “Yes” the next guess is “N”; another “Yes” and you move on to “E”.
If you get a “No” answer, the downward process ceases and the next guess involves moving, or branching out across the crib sheet to what is basically a sub-section of names. From here the downward process continues, but with a different set of letters, appropriate to the particular sub-section.
In the case of John Pulman, the conversation between the performer and spectator might go like this:
Performer: “I’m getting the strong feeling that the name you are thinking of features the letter “R”. Am I right?”
Spectator: “No.”
A “No” answer means a sideways move to the first sub-section of names. It also immediately rules out all names except John Pulman, Joe Johnson. John Higgins, Alex Higgins, Steve Davis, Joe Davis. Every other name has the letter “R” somewhere in its makeup.
Having moved —branched— across the crib sheet to the first sub-section of names, the next guess is the letter “S,” which also happens to be adjacent to the name John Pulman, our example. Once again the spectator will answer “No”. A “No” answer means a sideways move, so our second sideways move takes us to John Pulman. Stop there; you can’t branch any further, which means that with only two wrong guesses (maximum allowed) we have all the information we require. The spectator is thinking of John Pulman. A glance at all the other names in this sub-section shows that they contain the letter “S” — Joe Johnson, John Higgins, Alex Higgins, Steve Davis and Joe Davis.
If the spectator had been thinking of John Higgins, he would have answered “No” when asked if there was a letter “R” in the name, exactly as with John Pulman. Moving sideways across to the first sub-section of names, as a “No” answer demands, he would have answered “Yes” when asked if there was a letter “S” in the name. This rules out John Pulman.
But, as mentioned, since all the other names in this sub-section contain the letter “S” — Joe Johnson, John Higgins, Alex Higgins, Steve Davis and Joe Davis — this would not be enough to work out that Higgins is the spectator’s choice. Another guess is necessary. Moving downwards, but still within this sub-section, the next guess is the letter “I”.
This rules out Joe Johnson but still leaves us with John Higgins, Alex Higgins, Steve Davis and Joe Davis.
The next guess is the letter “E” which will invoke a “No” answer. Since Alex Higgins, Steve Davis and Joe Davis all contain the letter “E.”
John Higgins doesn’t, so stop here and move sideways; the spectator is thinking of John Higgins.
Another example. If the spectator had gone for Steve Davis, then he would have answered “No” when asked if there was an “R” in the name and “Yes” when asked about the letters “S-I-E-V”. But a “No” on the letter “J” means a sideways move to Steve Davis. Had the spectator gone for Joe Davis, after the initial “Yes” on the letter “R” he would have continuied saying “Yes” and when the guess was “J” which eliminates Steve Davis, all that’s left is Joe Davis.
With Dennis Taylor and Horace Lindrum, all guesses will invoke a “Yes” answer until you get to the letter “C”. Just go with it — downwards — until there are no more letters to guess — R-N-E-O-A-L-D-I-C.
A “Yes” on “C” eliminates Dennis Taylor and a “No” on “C” eliminates Horace Lindrum. End Notes
The principle is not difficult to grasp as only a few trials will show prove. It would be nice to say that there is some secret — and easy — way to remember the crib; but there isn’t. So it’s a case of putting the work in to memorise it, or use a crib. Personal choice as always, but the crib is sure fire. In stand-up situations the crib can be attached to a clipboard and worked in full view with no fear of being spotted. In strolling work, a two-way opening notebook is probably the best way to conceal the crib. Use the crib side of the notebook during performance, but conclude by writing the chosen name on a blank sheet at the other side. Tear the sheet out, pocket the notebook, then ask the spectator to name his choice. This done have him check the torn-out sheet.
There’s no shortcut to remembering stuff. Memory systems can be useful, but over the years I’ve found that personal mnemonics are the only ones that work for me. Occasionally an existing “popular” mnemonic is easy to grasp, but mostly they aren’t. The hook and peg systems beloved of so many memory experts are like any other skill. If you have an aptitude for such techniques, they’re great; but most people don’t, so learning the actual memory system itself is hard work. All too often it’s hard work for little or no result. But for those people who can use them, they’re clearly a major asset.
Interlocking and branching anagrams have been around for more than several years, but current interest probably stems from Phil Goldstein’s excellent Contimental, in his book Thabbatical. And although the game of snooker does not feature at all in Mister Goldstein’s effect, a nod or two in his direction is more than deserving.