Jack was told the youngster could give him "40 start" and still trounce him.

"He'll get beat," declared Jack, never doubting his own ability.

"Well, he took my 10 pound," laughs Jack.

"If your ego's getting to you, it's a handicap."

A glance around Jack's barber chair, just up from the harbour in Ulladulla, tells you a lot about a fella who has done his share of living.

Amongst the memories - each with its own story - a few things stick out.

There are photos of old friends and family - children and grandkids.

Then there's the ever present donation tin for Yurana - the local organisation that provides South Coast family holidays to children fighting cancer. That tin's collected around $45,000 since Jack first put it on his counter 20 years ago.

"It's not my tin, it's the customers," insists Jack. "Although I do a few little shifty things sometimes to get a quid out of them."

And hanging on the wall is Jack's fiddle. His fingers are still working and the melodies are still sweet.

"I wouldn't say I 'studied' at the Conservatorium - I 'went' to the Conservatorium."

Very subtly - like a perfectly played note, starting diminuendo, swelling in the middle, only to end as quietly as it began - Jack reveals another love. Music.

Amongst his collection of musical instruments are two violins, a viola and a mandolin. "I bought myself another guitar yesterday."

Jack credits the playing of renowned Scottish fiddler, Alaisdair Fraser, with a musical awakening.

"Watching the dawn and listening to his music I suddenly realised, it's all to do with lightness and movement. I used to sit down to play, but you've got to move - it's all interwoven.

"Music to me - it's floating just outside the breakers, it's the swell you get on a calm day."

Jack Morgan admits he sees enough similarities to conclude he is "very clearly related to the pirate" of the same name - "or even more likely, Mad Dog Morgan, the bushranger."

He's still enjoying his work - "It's a privilege if you can work" - and exudes a love for people and life.

And of all the larrikins he has known, you suspect he may just be the biggest of them all.

"I've had a beautiful time - I don't care if I die tomorrow. And the last few years have been the best of my life."

Jack had been experiencing "pain like you wouldn't believe." He decided to go vegetarian after reading a book by Norman W. Walker. "Fresh and raw - fruit and vegetables."

The results, says Jack, were astonishing. The pain ceased. He'd never felt better.

"It's the best tip you'll ever get. I feel euphoric - like an eagle gliding over the mountains on the updraft. And I don't get cranky with people anymore."

Jack reckons there's no point in trying to change anyone - except yourself.

"It's an ongoing thing - there's always something you don't know, always something you thought was right, but it's not."

Which leaves just one question teetering in the balance - like a winning shot that has the black ball hanging on the edge of the corner pocket. Is billiards a metaphor for life or is it the other way around?