The tale of two men: A must read for Aussie blokes with a conscience

After a day with her daughter Angela Mollard stopped in for a game of pool and a drink with her daughter. What happened next still makes her angry and has left her wondering why some men still struggle to be decent.

It had been the perfect day. Mushrooms on toast, an inspired new regional art gallery and a wander round some National Trust gardens where we climbed trees and solemnly surveyed the dog cemetery where some beloved pets named Paloma, Apollo and Juno had been laid to rest.

Afternoon tea and rhubarb cake had been taken and as the sun sunk into the horizon while my eldest daughter and I decided to conclude our 24-hour catch-up with a game of pool in a pub, preferably one with a roaring fire.

We were in luck: a group of drunken lads on a buck’s afternoon were departing the pool room where two tables stood side by side. There was a machine that allowed you to buy either a single game, three games or five games, you just had to punch the code into the table. So my daughter and I decided on three games.

Now, I love a game of pool, thanks to teenage years spent hanging out in my best friend’s games room. Think The Castle complete with trophies.

At 21, my daughter Eliza is a recent convert.

Angela Mollard and her daughter experienced “the tale of two men” while playing pool.

Before long, two couples on a weekend break joined us at the next table. “Do you mind if we use this table?” one of the two blokes inquired. Of course we didn’t.

In fact, since they were there, I asked, could he clear up the rule on sinking the white. “I think the other player gets two shots,” he said, “but I’m not 100 per cent sure.”

For the next 15 minutes we played happily side by side. One of the girlfriends was a novice but the rest of the three were enthusiastic and encouraging of her efforts.

When she took up the space between our tables to take a shot, the nice bloke gently pointed out when she needed to move so we could play our shots.

And that’s when we were interrupted by another bloke slapping a couple of coins on the side of our table. Wordlessly he was reserving his spot in the game queue.

“We’re just on the first of three games,” I told him. He and his mates disappeared to the bar.

I won the first game and my daughter was just racking up the balls for the second game when he returned and sat down on a bar stool taking up a good metre of the narrow space on one side of the table.

He didn’t say anything, but as he sat, legs wide, commanding the space, both my daughter and I sensed we were being hurried along. I could see Eliza was avoiding having a shot from his side of the table.

Within minutes he was joined by five other large blokes muttering that it was cold outside. There were two indoor bars, both with roaring fires, they could’ve waited in. Half a dozen of them crammed alongside the pool table not only made playing impossible; they were clearly trying to be intimidating.

This was not a group of men unaware of how they occupied the space. They knew exactly what they were doing.

And in case we were in any doubt, when I failed to sink a ball from a tricky position, one said to the others: “They’re shit.”

Who cares how good we are? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the nice bloke at the other pool table looking uncomfortable.

So what do you do when men are being dicks? Men in their late 20s who should know better.

Toxic masculinity is still a part of our culture. Picture: iStock

Men who have no greater entitlement to a pub pool table than a mother and daughter. Would they have done the same to a father and son?

We were sandwiched between two examples of manhood – on one side a man who was considerate, convivial and space aware; on the other a bunch of thugs brazenly disrespectful of women and, for all we know, other blokes. As I whispered to Eliza: “It’s the tale of two men.”

I’d like to say I challenged them. That I asked them to give us some space and we’d let them know when we were finished. I felt sure the couples at the next table would back me up.

Or I could’ve slipped out and asked a member of the bar staff to help out. Neither my daughter nor I usually lack the steel to stand up for ourselves.

But it’s a measure of how menacing they were that we finished our second game, which Eliza won, and left without playing the third.

It was too uncomfortable. As she said, they were the sort of blokes who would rather barrack for a crappy local men’s rugby club than watch the Australian women’s rugby sevens team despite them being the best in the world.

A week later I’m still angry. How do we still breed them, these men who are so assured of their place and so puffed up on their own physical presence and power that they deliberately make others small?

I regret not speaking up, but I am now. I want every man in the country to read this story because is it really that hard to be decent rather than aggressively entitled?

While our game remains undecided, weak men like the boofheads in the pub continue to win.

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Holding (SBS on Demand) is a brilliant four-part drama series based on Graham Norton’s debut novel and featuring a village of cleverly drawn characters.

E-SCOOTERS

I love walking around cities but E-scooters help you cover more distance and see more. Canberra and Brisbane are best in class.

CURRY BLENDS

So many supermarket brands have that cloying taste but I’ve just made a beef rendang with a blend from Zest Byron Bay and it was top notch. Multiple flavours including kerala and massaman available online.