Bob Marshall, a keen-eyed, dapper little man of 76, celebrated 50 years as a champion, a unique distinction in sport, when he defended the Australian amateur billiards championship at Toronto District Workers Club, near Lake Macquarie, 11 days ago. Marshall was 26 when he won the title for the first time in 1936. The same year he also won the world amateur championship in Johannesburg, an achievement made more memorable when the legendary Walter Lindrum made a special effort to be in Perth to welcome him home.

Oddly, both Lindrum, who died in 1960, and Marshall, 11 years his junior, were born in Kalgoorlie on the West Australian goldfields. Both reached the pinnacle on their respective sides of the billiards fence: Lindrum as undisputed world professional champion and Marshall as the best amateur.

A half century after it all began, Marshall can reflect on 21 Australian championships and four world championships in a career interrupted by a world war and two premature retirements. "Incredible! A performance unmatched in any sport," said Clem Jones, president of the Australian Billiards and Snooker Council, at the presentations in Toronto.

Away from the table, Robert James Percival Marshall, OAM, was a successful businessman, spent nine years in local government, and from 1965 to 1968 was the Member for Maylands in the West Australian Parliament. He suffers from arthritis, has pins in his left hip and right knee and for a period last year the shoulder of his cueing arm was affected by the removal of a non-malignant melanoma from his back.

"That's my swansong," he said in Toronto after beating NSW champion Phil Tarrant by 2,216 points to 1,479 in the six-hour final, leading clearly throughout. "The championship will be in Perth next year and the world championship in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I'd love to compete again but a trip to Ireland would be too much for me and my wife, Jean. The experience in Ireland will benefit a younger player but I'll be there in Perth to help all I can." Tapping his trophy, Marshall quipped: "This really belongs to Deep Heat and my wife. Her regular massage with the liniment fitted me for every session of play."

Marshall retired in 1963 after winning the Australian championship for the 17th time. He came back in 1969 for exhibitions with the New Zealand professional Clark McConachy, entered the championship to win again, defended in 1970 and retired again. Fifteen years later, at an age when most players have put their competitive cues in the rack, the old cueman returned to the matchroom in Hobart last year, prompted by his wife, who likes billiards, and a desire to pass on some of his knowledge to players who had never seen him.

He won again, then astounded the billiards world by finishing second in the world amateur championship in New Delhi. He beat the defending champion, India's Michael Ferreira, in completing his round-robin section unbeaten, eliminated the No 2 Indian Subash Agrawal in a semi-final and led for the first session of the final. But fatigue set in and as he ran out of steam the No 3 Indian, Geet Sethi, swept through to become the youngest winner of the event.

"For every recovery shot I know, Bob has 10," said Sethi, in appreciation of his opponent's expertise.

The impact of Marshall's comeback was demonstrated when 33 aspirants to his title each paid an entry fee of $50 to compete in Toronto under a new, open format. Previously, only State champions were eligible. Queensland entrant Ron Moore said it for most players when he received his trophy for the best break, 228. "I made it to Hobart last year mainly to see Marshall play," he said. "After 55 minutes he led me by 800 points. I couldn't believe it."

In Toronto, Marshall was unbeaten in three matches in his round-robin section and four in the knockout series among the 16 qualifiers. His best breaks were 218 and 209 and he had another 19 century breaks. Tarrant had a run of 201 and seven centuries and David Collins, the young Victorian, seven centuries.

More important, Marshall's superior approach and skills were obvious. He constantly manoeuvred the balls into his favourite top-of-the-table position, deftly exploiting the "postman's knock" or "floating white" methods as the positions demanded. Not only the practised eyes noted the peculiar "life" that the billiards artist appears to instil in the balls during delicate movements.

As one woman with only rudimentary knowledge of the game remarked: "He plays that short cannon from the red, hits the top cushion and gently taps the other white on the rebound. Somehow, he always leaves that little tunnel to pot the red again."