Introduction
Life is a precious commodity where the light can be extinguished at any moment. In this world that brings joy and upset, it is essential to grab friendship with both hands and never let it go. That particular moment came when I first met Richard Barnicoat. A man with the natural ability to make you roar with laughter summed up the definition of generosity. His presence helped make the world better—someone with natural talent as a hospital radio DJ, boxing coach and snooker referee. Also, his work with the Glastonbury Snooker Club and the Eastbourne Snooker Association. The pints flowed when Richard was in your company, and you were guaranteed an intellectual conversation. His dry wit was second to none.
Second to None
I first met Richard over five years ago at a snooker exhibition. We warmed to each other immediately and soon became the Bert and Ernie of the snooker, sharing a hotel room several times when there were not enough rooms available. However, this soon stopped when he got fed up with my loud snoring. On the second occasion, I got up to use the toilet at night and couldn’t open the bathroom door. Pushing the door, I found Richard asleep on his mattress on the bathroom floor. When I asked him why he was sleeping there, he shouted at me that he would never share a room with me again as my snoring was bloody awful! From then on, it became our standard joke.
Richard was a meticulous snooker referee, always turning up early for an exhibition to display his trusted digital scoreboard and his trusted case of snooker balls. With his suit ready to trot, he always made the slightly phased amateurs comfortable before they took on their snooker heroes. Richard worked with a long list of professional and former players: Ken Doherty, Dennis Taylor, Steve Davis, Neil Robertson, Mark Selby, Nigel Bond, John Higgins, Jimmy White, Cliff Thorburn, Jack Lisowski, Joe Perry, Stuart Bingham, Joe Johnson, Tony Knowles, Jimmy Robertson, Judd Trump, Mark King, Mark Williams and Tony Drago. However, he did like to get involved in the banter of the match talk and could be known to occasionally lose count of the score or re-spot the wrong ball—a comedy of errors that the featured players used to shrug in the fun of the evening.
I was very honoured when Richard asked me to interview him several weeks ago, but sadly, I was going on holiday, and when I returned, we never got to do it as he was transferred from A&E to a hospice. So I hope this piece goes some way to making up for this. Although we never got to do his Q&A session about his life. Richard had a very stoic approach to his cancer diagnosis and carried out multiple sessions of chemotherapy treatment to try to curtail the aggressive cancer that he had. Despite leaving him weak, tired and unable to eat, he still achieved some items on his bucket list.
One moving moment was when he travelled to this year’s World Championship at the Crucible in Sheffield. Catching up with players and friends, he was given a well-deserved round of applause when he was arranged to walk out onto the stage from behind the red curtain, announced by the snooker MC, Rob Walker. Richard knew his days were numbered, but he was amazingly upbeat on our last phone call. They were telling me that he had been to the funeral directors and planned out his service and funeral arrangements.
The Fight
Richard’s brave battle against cancer is another example of his extraordinary character. A battle that he fought until the very end. It must have been an extreme struggle, but you would never have guessed so from his demeanour. The fact that he met friends and went out for meals shows the true bravery of this man, who was messaging me until almost the end. Although I knew the day would eventually come, I wasn’t expecting that his life would be drawing to an end when I returned from my holiday in Corfu. His passing leaves a deep void in my life and someone who I will dearly miss calling and seeing. I will raise a glass for you, Richard, and I will see you one day on the other side of life. Until then, you will remain in my fondest memories. Adieu but not farewell, my dear friend.
