They haven't heard of Sachin Tendulkar or Virat Kohli. But the mention of Indian movies elicits more than just broad smiles and approving nods: "PK, PK!" exclaims Chit Ko Ko.
The 32 year-old from Myanmar, along with his senior compatriot Aung Htay, 50, is participating in the World Billiards Championship, currently underway in Bengaluru, for the first time. English isn't one of the languages either players speak and travelling coach-cum-manager Zerne Aung Than doubles up as interpreter on most occasions.
Lorded over by the oppressive military junta for close to five decades, the struggle for freedom, human rights and peace took centrestage in Myanmar. Sport, has at best, been a diversion in the strife-torn nation.
Ranked No 1 and 2 respectively in the country, Htay and Ko Ko, who hail from Yangoon, admit that billiards is far from a popular sport in Myanmar and certainly not enough to sustain their families. While Htay, who lost to Pankaj Advani in the semifinals on Monday to finish with a bronze (points format), is an engineer by profession and holds a government job, Ko Ko, runs the family hardware store when he finds time off from the sport.
Leaning forward, hands resting on the table, they listen intently at the questions asked, nodding at occasional familiar-sounding English words before Than takes over. Football and Manchester United are near-synonymous in the country, says Than, conveying the more passionate fan of the three, Ko Ko's enthusiasm. Leithwei, a form of unarmed martial art, similar to kickboxing, is another favourite with the locals, he adds.
Myanmar has little over 40 billiards players today with close to five of them in the top 100. The pacier format of snooker as opposed to billiards has found far more takers, particularly among youngsters in the country. The interest, however, is largely limited to being a recreational one.
Pursuing a cue sport isn't seen as a serious career option. Snooker players number no more than 30 in the country. Over the past decade, Than says, there has been a spurt in interest for snooker, largely due to the mushrooming of pool parlours. "Youngsters love snooker," he says, "It's fast."
Sponsors are hard to come by and players depend largely on the national federation for funding their playing expenses, which includes footing the travel cost for tournaments. "Sponsors are reluctant to invest in a sport that's not popular enough," says Than, "So the federation is the sole source of funds for players. It's tough."
"The non-physical" nature of billiards was what appealed to Ko Ko as a teen. It helped that he had a pool parlour in the neighbourhood, whetting his interest for the sport. "It's not too exacting physically," he says, "Concentration and composure are the foremost traits needed for the sport. I think I've both." For Htay, who's spent over the three decades playing billiards now, it began with his father, who had some knowledge of the sport, handing him a cue.
Having known each other for close to seven years now, Htay and Ko Ko are more than familiar with each other's playing styles and occasionally find themselves pitted against each other at tournaments. Like this time. Htay beat Ko Ko in the pre-quarterfinals (long up format) of the tournament last week.
"There are no hard feelings, says Ko Ko, "We knew only one of us can make the quarterfinals." Htay's run ended in the quarterfinals after a loss to Dhvaj Haria. Admittedly in the twilight of his playing career, Htay wants to win the Asian championship title before he retires. Ko Ko, who's yet to have a major international win to his name, nods to convey a similar dream.
In September this year, Htay, the most accomplished billiards player from his country among the current crop, finished with silver in his seventh appearance at the Asian billiards championship. He also has two gold and five silver medals to his credit so far from the South East Asian Games.
As the conversation meanders to the next rung of billiards players in the country and chances of a possible spike in interest, Htay shakes his head disapprovingly before putting forth a brutally honest observation. "It's not a sport I would encourage youth of our country to take up. You cannot feed your family with its earnings. There's no money in it," he says.
The silence that followed the loaded statement is broken by an animated Ko Ko, punching his fist into the air. Having heard him out, a clueless Than turns to me and asks, "He's talking of an Indian movie he loved. It's about a female boxer. Any idea?" The answer wasn't obviously tough. "Mary Kom?", I suggest, as Ko Ko jumps up from his chair excitedly to affirm, unmindful of the five-time world champion's existence beyond the movie realm.