When pubs reopened after Covid-19 people were so relieved they didn't think twice about the absence of the bulky, carpet-topped object in the corner. A casual exchange with a masked, disinfectant-wielding bartender would confirm that yes, the pool table had been pushed out thanks to the introduction of table service, and no, a packet of bacon fries doesn't count as a substantial meal. Basking in a healthy pint-induced glow for the first time in months, everyone would simply forget about them, and move on.

As time has passed, the hole left by their absence has deepened. Temporary decisions to remove a pool table to free up space for drinkers or diners and boost sales were made permanent. Soaring operating costs and the sting of the cost of living crisis made any potential for extra cash increasingly valuable. And so, as wet-led pubs across the country have continued to fight for their lives and serve their communities, the pool table has become collateral damage. These days, they're few and far between.

“We've lost a lot of pubs that do food because food makes more profit than pool tables,” says Nicky Lines, General Manager at Ivor Thomas Amusements, a Kent-based company supplying pool tables and other pub equipment to establishments across the southeast of England. “We had a lot of machines and pool tables taken out because of Covid… then, they don't have them back because they think, ‘look at how much my pool table took compared to how much I can get from three tables, and say, ten covers, over the same period.’”

Typically, pubs will hire tables from a specialist pub equipment supplier like Ivor Thomas, paying a regular fee that includes maintenance. “Every six weeks, we open up the table, hoover it out, brush it down, spray it, and re-mark the lines and the Ds,” Nicky says—and a guaranteed engineer on call to make repairs when an issue arises.

Costs vary depending on whether pubs opt for bog-standard tables or high-end ones more suited to league competitions. At Ivor Thomas, it's £10 a week plus VAT for the former and £20 for the latter, but this is cheaper than most, with some pubs reportedly paying over £20 a week.

““The supermarket kills pool tables, and people who have them in their homes are killing the pubs’ trade.””

— Nicky Lines, Ivor Thomas Amusements

A week's fee can be recouped in one busy evening, while plenty of extra cash is accumulated from drinks sales. But an increased emphasis on food in many pubs has changed the landscape. Writing for the Financial Times Jimmy McIntosh reports that, according to the British Beer & Pub Association (BBPA), “from March 2022 to March 2023, the number of wet-leds declined by 3.1 per cent, as opposed to food-focused taverns, whose number dwindled by 2.2 per cent.” These days, companies like Ivor Thomas rely more on specialist venues hiring multiple tables and using games like pool as a USP. Meanwhile, there's a growing demand for domestic pool table set-ups, too.

“We're selling more tables for ‘man caves’ and back gardens,” Nicky tells me. “The price of beer's gone up and supermarkets are doing stupid deals on drinks, so people are thinking, ‘I might as well get a crate and go to my mate's house, cause he's got a pool table so it'll be a cheap night.’ The supermarket kills pool tables, and people who have them in their homes are killing the pubs’ trade.”

The domestication of the pool table arguably takes away its core appeal. In pubs, pool tables create a neutral ground, a strangely liminal space where people can float about, groups can collide, and strangers can joke and play games with each other, a rare occurrence in the adult world. An almost infantile sheepishness accompanies the moment when you approach a stony-faced bloke cueing up, pop a quid down, and offer a polite nod. But in a matter of minutes, you could be getting on swimmingly.

The pool table's unique appeal has made it a staple of UK pub culture, immortalised in episodes of Peep Show and songs like Could Well Be In by The Streets. It used to feel as though if you walked into a London pub with a Sky Sports licence, more often than not you'd be treated instantly to the timbre of tapping cues and debates about whether or not your two shots carry over after you've potted (they don't, obviously.) But it's an experience that is becoming far less common. Consequently, we could lose some of the customs and quirks that make British pub culture special.

“There are strange rules and rituals around the pool table, which can make it quite a threatening place for an outsider,” Jimmy McIntosh—a pub writer and enthusiast who documents doomed old boozers across the capital via the Instagram page London Dead Pubs—tells me.

“Normally, you put a pound down and you stay on, having a go at this pool hot-shot who spends their entire evening at the table beating everyone,” he says. “I was playing pool in the Boston Arms [in Holloway, north London] last night, and their rule was that you get two shots on the black if someone pots. I'd never played that before, but that was the done thing. Each pub has its own little rules and rituals, which is fascinating.”

The Marquis of Granby in New Cross, South London, is a pub whose pool table customs I was well-acquainted with before the pub decided to remove the table post-Covid. Initially, the change saddened some punters, but drinkers soon got used to it, and bar manager Sue Wilmot wasn't losing any sleep over the matter.

“I don't miss it,” she tells me. “There were so many rows in here that ended up being bigger than they should've been. People argued over whose turn it was, who's pound it was. Then you'd get people coming in off the street and not buying a drink. It's a lot easier now.”

Sue's point reflects the findings of a 2013 National Library of Medicine report that deemed pool tables a key location for pub violence. When done right, their removal can limit the risk of fights breaking out, without affecting business. “People still come in here drinking all the time,” she says. “It hasn't made a difference to the clientele; a lot of them just play darts or cards now instead.”

The Marquis is a fairly isolated case, though, in that the loss of its pool table hasn't indicated a broader movement towards a more gastropub-like environment. The atmosphere inside the iconic New Cross boozer is the same as ever; friendly, unassuming, rough around the edges, and utterly charming.

““Pool tables are such a vital part of these wet-led, spit-and-sawdust pubs, in the same way the fruit machine or Sky Sports on TV is.””

— Jimmy McIntosh, London Dead Pubs

But other pubs have lost their pool tables and simultaneously forfeited a chunk of character. Several locals at the Bird in Hand in Forest Hill, south east London, departed when the pool table did last year. A mile or so along the South Circular, the Catford Bridge Tavern sacrificed its pool table for seating and an enhanced food offering around the same time. Ultimately, it's the pressure from above to generate revenue that prompts these decisions.

“When companies own lots of pubs, they go down the road of thinking about ROI, rather than thinking ‘this is a watering hole for the community,’ which is far more important,” says Brendan Conlan, who alongside friend and business partner Matt Connolly decided to address the lack of London pubs with pool tables by compiling a list of every single one in the capital. They named this valuable resource Pubs With Pool Tables (PWPT).

“Bringing people together with a low level of friendly competition really gives an atmosphere to pubs,” Brendan continues. “It's been the lifeblood, particularly in London but across the UK, and it would be a shame to lose it. We want to help make sure that it remains something we can all partake in.”

“When margins are being squeezed, people just want bums on seats and people drinking pints of lager,” Matt. “We want to bring pool tables back to the masses, and combine the culture of pubs with the value we think pool tables have.”

In pure economic terms, that value can be difficult to quantify. Factors like physical space, location, customer base, ambience, pint prices, and kitchen opening hours all impact how much money a pool table can bring in. Nicky recalls how one pub she took on recently made £600 in the first fortnight alone. Consider the amount of extra cash those pool players are spending over the bar, and having a table starts to look like a worthwhile enterprise.

On the other hand, you need plenty of footfall to make it a clever investment. Calculating exactly how much a pool table earns you is difficult, and regardless, the value of its presence goes far beyond just money.

“Pool tables are such a vital part of these wet-led, spit-and-sawdust pubs, in the same way the fruit machine or Sky Sports on TV is,” Jimmy says. “The smoking ban, the Olympics, Covid and the cost of living crisis killed a lot of pubs. What unites them is that they're all wet-led, and a lot of them would have had pool tables.”

For some drinkers, the absence of a pool table in a pub is good news. Those boozers that do still have them (and according to PWPT's detailed but admittedly not exhaustive list, there are only around 60 in London) are often lager-led, sports-oriented, no-frills establishments that are unlikely to attract your typical CAMRA member.

But failing to recognise that these pubs are an integral part of the UK's community drinking culture is short-sighted and snobbish. Most pubs shouldn't have a pool table, but given their embodiment of fundamental aspects of pub culture like community cohesion, friendly competition and social tradition, it's imperative that some pubs do. At their core, pool tables are about serving the community, but the increased cost of running a pub—with UK hospitality hit by a £3.4 billion budget hangover—makes this increasingly difficult.

Without meaningful government intervention, boozers will continue closing their doors for good. And in this context, archetypal pool table pubs can often be under even greater threat. It's imperative that we protect these spaces, before the pocket grows any deeper.

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