Rocket fuelled genius still soars like no other

Snooker, in my opinion, is one of the great TV sports – easy to have on in the background and easy to tune in and out of as you please.

Last Friday night’s viewing included a maximum 147 break from Antrim’s Mark Allen at the Masters, but he still needed all eleven frames to see off Mark Selby in a nail-biting finish that only arrived at 12.30am on Saturday morning.

Fast forward to Saturday afternoon and Shaun Murphy, who, incidentally, was commentating for the BBC on the match the previous night, took on seven-time champion Ronnie O’Sullivan for a place in the final.

The first frame was a scrappy affair, with both players guilty of allowing their opponent gain momentum. Eventually, O’Sullivan prevailed but the analysis of the opening exchanges by the BBC panel provided some interesting listening. Indeed, it was the presenter, Hazel Irvine, who made perhaps the most accurate remark – that O’Sullivan was ‘slightly cavalier’ with one of his shots to allow Murphy a chance among the balls.

Those two words neatly summed up O’Sullivan and his approach to snooker. He is arguably the most compelling sportsperson of our time.

Now 48 years of age, he has all-but cemented his position as the game’s best-ever player. If you’re looking for a barometer, here’s the most telling stat: his collection of 23 Triple Crown titles (the World Championship, the Masters and the UK Championship) is five more than Stephen Hendry and eight more than Steve Davis. On Sunday night, he claimed an eighth Masters title with a ten frames to seven win over Ali Carter.

What separates O’Sullivan from his peers, though, more than any title, is his raw talent. Hendry and Davis were machine-like in their approach – regimented and disciplined – but there’s something more to the way O’Sullivan plays the game. He has a flair that is unmatched – just look at the ease with which he moves around the table, playing off both hands – and displays a vulnerability we rarely see from those in the limelight. Added to all of that is the unpredictability that makes O’Sullivan such a joy to watch.

Yes, he’s the best player that has ever played the game, but one only had to watch his match with Barry Hawkins in the quarter-finals to see how the mighty too can struggle. Some of the shots he played in that match would not be out of place late on a Saturday night in one of Ballina’s local hostelries.

And what about some of his public pronouncements over the years?

He has threatened to pack it in on several occasions and has stated a number of times that his grá for the sport is not what it once was. His well-documented struggles came to the fore again in a recent documentary, Edge of Everything, which was released on Amazon Prime late last year.

Following O’Sullivan’s travails in his private life and charting his journey to the top of the sport, it also deals with some of the more difficult aspects of his upbringing, not least his father going to jail after being charged with murder when Ronnie was just 16. Above all, though, what shines through in the documentary is O’Sullivan’s unvarnished personality and his take-it-or-leave-it attitude with snooker.

This has been apparent at various stages during his career. After losing a match at the Northern Ireland Open in 2022, O’Sullivan claimed he had basically given up on the sport.

“The job ain’t worth the stress and the hassle,” he told the BBC. “Sometimes, a loss is a blessing in disguise, it just allows me to do other stuff.

“I quit mentally about eight years ago and I just take what I can from the sport.

“As far as winning goes or cementing my name in the game, there isn’t enough good stuff in the game to get excited about. One day I’ll wake up and get excited and play a good tournament, but if I don’t I don’t really care anymore.” 

This free-talking approach continues, with this outburst last week directed at the facilities at Alexandra Palace, where the Masters took place.

“I just don’t like this place, I find it disgusting,” he said after that 6-3 victory over Barry Hawkins.

“Everywhere is dirty, cold, I’m freezing. I have to sit here in my coat.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen up there, there’s food and stuff and it makes me feel ill to be honest with you.

“I’m a clean freak. When I come here, it gives me the heebie-jeebies and I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m sorry, that’s just how I feel.” 

He also had a cut at his competitors after his semi-final win on Saturday, saying to younger players that they “need to get their act together because I’m going blind, I’ve got a dodgy arm and bad knees and they still can’t beat me!” He was having fun with the crowd, yet it again illustrated his care-free attitude.

What makes O’Sullivan such an icon, though, is he is willing to be vulnerable in public. There’s no PR speak, no fluff – it’s raw and it’s incredibly honest.

In that documentary, there’s a telling period during the 2022 World final when O’Sullivan is dangling on the emotional edge in his final meeting with Judd Trump. Trump was making a serious comeback, having trimmed a seven-frame deficit down to three. Visibly rattled, O’Sullivan is an emotional wreck in the dressing-room during one interval at the Crucible.

“I feel like I want to cry. I don’t even feel like I want to face it. I’m looking at my cues, I feel like my eyes are blurry,” he says to psychiatrist, Steve Peters. “I’m scared mate.” 

He eventually got over the line to clinch a seventh world title – and cue the emotion. Crying onto the shoulder of one of his kids, he exclaims under his breath, “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do it, it’ll kill me.” 

Since then, O’Sullivan has continued to do it in his own unique way and Sunday night’s fare in his latest triumph gave us another glimpse of his genius.

As another World Championship campaign beckons in April, let’s hope 'The Rocket' can continue to entertain the masses for a little while longer.