Eddie Charlton comes into the hotel lobby in slacks and tropical shirt, the famous hooded eyes like wary grey balls under lowered billiards-table lights shades.
He has been playing in a nondescript country pub, late at night, against men who were not born when he won his first titles.
Still no glasses? He admits: 'I have started to wear contact lenses. It allows me to see the tip of the cue on top the cue ball better.'
"Pot Black" Eddie, at 63, is still the world's greatest cueist in the combined seedings of snooker, billiards and pool; yet he has just played in a small pub back room crowded with youthful wannabee snooker champions, taking on 16 opponents at a time and giving them 400 points start. And of course beating them. 'It's important to me that I do beat them. Otherwise they mightn't ask me back.'
He's been out in the sun for a run since then, returning to the hotel to leisurely shower, carefully shave, and face the next billiards table on an Australian coastal tour, where he still practises six to eight hours a day. 'I never stop thinking about the game.'
I wondered what happened to "Pot Black", the BBC-TV programme that held viewers' attention in 60 countries for so many years? Eddie shakes his head. 'I will never understand why they're not still making it.
'So many people remember it and ask about it.' He won it three times and it helped make him a rich man. And probably saved his lungs.
'When television got fascinated with snooker and billiards, the cameras couldn't see through the cigarette and cigar smoke. So they banned smoking in a lot of places. As a kid of 9, helping in my grandfather's billiards saloon, I got scared of hearing men smoking and coughing; I decided there and then I'd never have a cigarette and I never did.
'But over the years I have been on world tours I have sucked in a lot of other peoples' smoke. However years of playing soccer, tennis, surf lifesaving and running has left me in good shape to combat it. I get a touch of hay fever; that’s all.'
Drink? 'I might have a glass or two of wine over dinner with someone and occasionally a beer. But, of course, not on the day I'll be playing.'
That rule applies to a backstreet pub poolroom appearance as much as it does to a world championship to be watched by millions.
His hands are hairless and baby-smooth, with powerful fingers and as steady as a rock. His brain is hair-trigger alert, communicating to his eyes the precise spot on the back of the white cue ball that it must be struck. 'The white ball is usually 18 inches to two feet in front of your eyes. The lenses I wear only help me then: I can judge exactly where the tip of the cue will strike. Otherwise I really don't need them.'
That morning, after a slow breakfast, he has gone over his cases of precious cues. He has recently changed from American elk tips to French leather. 'Elk is not a hard leather, but it does harden up with the continued pounding of cue on ball. Three years back I tried the French dark brown leather tips and found them better. Now I wouldn't change one inside 12 months.'
He "wouldn't take $2,000" for his favourite cue which has an English ash shaft and a black ebony butt from India. Three other cues are made from Canadian maple.
At 11, when he was beating adults, the legendary billiards player, Walter Lindrum, had a game with him. 'I watched him very closely. He caused me to change my stance. He didn't like snooker, his cue action in billiards
was too quick for it.'
Then Fred Davis, the world champion, came out to Australia from England and gave young Charlton a game. 'I was working underground in the mines at the time and Fred asked me what I was going to do in the future. I said I would stay in the mines, it was good money. He said to me over breakfast: "I didn't know about you before I left England. I can tell you that you are one of the top three players in the world." Fred taught me to slow down my stroking rate. To be more careful where my tip struck the cue ball. My game improved at least three or four blacks.'
The Charlton brain has recorded every moment, every cue shot, every red ball position in every important match he has played over half a century. Bad moments? 'Yes. Against Ray Reardon in the World Professional Snooker Championship. 'Ray complained during the match about the TV lights; said they were too glary, though they weren't bothering me. By the time they got them all re-arranged he settled back into the game quicker than I did. In the final game (and he recalls exactly where each of 15 balls lay) Reardon was on "a shot to nothing". 'It came off the cushion behind the yellow and I lost 31-30.'
In the electric calm of 'Pot Black', or a championship in England where he spends eight months of each year, Eddie admits there is deep rivalry and some unpleasantness. Behind the scenes there is one snooker champion who causes so much trouble he has been banned from staying in some hotels, playing matches in some venues. 'And even banned from some Irish clubs.'
'It's the drink,' sighs Eddie. "I have had to bar him over here too. He gets rude and abusive.'
And with thousands of dollars riding on an exhibition, along with the nerves of professionals whose living depends on their success, upsets are a serious problem.
Snooker ranks of top players have swollen over the years as 900 professionals "along with all their managers" chase big prize-money in the UK. 'When I first went to England there were only three other pros.'
Eddie turned professional 34 years ago and eight years later won the World Open Snooker Championship.
Today the prize money he plays for - particularly in the UK - eclipses tournament golf and tennis. The world snooker championship purse is $3.2m.
He has won 106 tournaments and championships, made 6,000 century breaks, achieved the highest-possible snooker break and won 17 television tournaments. He regularly commentates for the BBC.
It rankles still that his arch-rival Ray Reardon beat him in the 1973 and 1975 World Professional Snooker Championships. But a couple of years later Eddie turned the tables in the World Matchplay.
Was that his big moment? Revenge? 'No. I'd say the best time was when I played two opponents at the same time. I cleared the table for a break of 137. Then, with the very next frame I broke the balls in the same way and made 135. It was a world record of 272 with neither opponent getting a shot.
'One of the players said to me that his colleague was very good. I said: "Well, I'm sorry I didn't get to see him play." '
