By Elliott West
“Happiness is not from external things”.
Quote from Ronnie’s time in the Priory.
Introduction
The title of genius is only bestowed on a chosen few but with it comes a human seesaw of rocking between the worlds of glory and human purgatory. This year marks 30 years since Ronnie O’Sullivan lifted his first professional title at the 1993 UK Championship at the Preston Guild Hall. O’Sullivan was only 17 at the time and beat the player of the moment, Stephen Hendry 10-6 to lift the title. One of the legendary “Class of ‘92”, he had only turned professional a year before this Triple Crown win. This was a seismic moment in snooker as can be seen when Stephen shakes Ronnie’s hand. He is fuming that someone so young could claim the trophy.
“How big do you want to be? 5:10”.
Ronnie O’Sullivan
Yet speak to any player of the time and this win was one waiting to happen. His father Ronnie Snr had already seen his son’s natural talent and tapped into it straight away, building him a snooker room at their house and sending him to Barking Snooker Club to play while he worked. Perhaps a mad idea in today’s world, leaving a child so young to fend for himself in a den of misspent youth but his father knew he would be safe there, a creche. Ronnie was beating everyone in there before he even started shaving, making a 117 break at his first outing. He had already won several thousand pounds before the age of 11 and was already being seen in the company of his hero Steve Davis and the referee John Street.
You only have to look at his performance at the 1990 Cockney Classic on ITV to see a glimpse of the magic of this player that was to come. Reaching the semi-final of the event in his first televised match, he made a 75-break and sent a roar around the studio, the first of many. So special was this break that his school cancelled their cookery class to watch it on video. A break that left his opponent Steve Ventham and the commentator John Pulman in awe.
His father fired the starting pistol on his career with a do-or-die policy. It would be either a path of ultimate glory or if it didn’t work out, he could come and work with him. Ronnie Snr had just landed a job in a sex shop in Charing Cross Road and was earning a lot of money because he had mastered the way of sales. Ronnie was extremely shy but wanted to make his Dad happy and you can see the beaming smile that his Dad produced every time the two were on the snooker road. The two were inseparable, a mix of pure love and bubbling talent.
The Noise, The Sound.
It was roundabout this time at Barking Snooker Club that something clicked. Ronnie fell in love with this fascinating game He won a pro-am in style with a number of high breaks and he realised how easy this game could be. He won £600 but the win was pure elation, a young lad caught fire and then stood in his front room next to the television with the trophy with ultimate pride. A snooker cue that was like a wand that could produce magic. A fascination that is like a drug that you never want to wear off. A player who made a 147 break at the Stevenage Snooker Club in a one-day pro-am competition. He went on to beat Antony Hamilton and claimed the £1,000 first prize at the 35 table club.
Seeing the Puzzle
Ronnie O’Sullivan has always played a game where you get in early and win in one visit. The aim is to pot every ball on the table. His brain is one of snooker precision, seeing his shots miles in advance and weaving his way around a snooker table that is straight out of a geometry manual. When he is in the zone, this is textbook snooker, the pure game where the pockets are beaten into submission and your opponent walks out of the arena with stars in his eyes, like a boxer who has been floored by a sucker punch. A hunger to win that controls every centimetre of your body and walks you to the very edge of mental purgatory.
The Noose
Snooker can become the ultimate madness and if you can’t handle it, you might as well exit stage right and never come back. Ronnie has been at this point many times. A probable sufferer of depression, O’Sullivan has often threatened to quit this sport that has shaped his life but has to date, never carried out his threats. His father’s prison sentence for murder and the huge onus that snooker weighs on him to constantly win has at times left him in rehab, using alcohol and drugs as a mental crutch. Yet he still had his father’s words in his head as he was led down from the dock, “let my boy win”. All his wins have been not just for him alone but for his dad as well. He could have snapped his cue in half and walked away but he felt compelled to walk this road to Damascus, a Mozart-like figure, surrounded by a halo of genius. He even took his first UK Championship trophy to show his dad in prison.
Implosion
Hitting a tournament referee, putting a towel over his head in a match or walking out during a match are just some of the bizarre things that Ronnie has done during his snooker career. All carried out with emotional eyes in his eyes that displayed his cry for help. A cocktail of depression and rage that were on a path of self-destruction. Ronnie ultimately wanted to be happy and find that inner peace with a solid family unit. A man who could on one hand make left handed look easy but on the other, a hand that he wanted to eat him and throttle him. A sport where you are ultimately on your own, tormented by your inner demons, the ultimate darkness.
The Missing Piece
Through his time at the Priory, O’Sullivan learnt that addiction is not bad if it is controlled and challenged in the right ways. The missing piece in making Ronnie the person that he is today is a combination of percentages. Taking up running, working with Professor Steve Peters and finding that inner drive again in his time with Ray Reardon. He also has his close circle of friends Jimmy White, Damien Hurst, Ronnie Wood, Robbie Huxley nd his partner, Laila Rouass along with his friends in China. A place where he feels he can be himself and relax, embracing his cuisine and culture.
Ronnie doesn’t have anything else to prove. He has won every title that snooker has to offer, a total of 40 ranking titles including 7 world championship titles and his latest, a 10-7 victory over Ding Junghi to win his 8th UK Championship title. He no longer has to reach out and press the excess button and feels more comfortable with winning or losing. That’s not to say that he is still a bag of nerves in a dressing room before walking out onto a tournament stage. A stage fright that doesn’t waver until the deed is done. A flaw that never can be truly ironed out. An anxious panic attack that always lives in the shadows. The peace comes out of the chaos, a love affair of highs and lows. The winning zone is the quiet place where thoughts go out of the window and you float on the clouds of invincibility. 18 years of inner pain that are have gradually evaporated. The Crucible is his hell but also his cauldron of glory.
The GOAT
What sets Ronnie O’Sullivan apart from any other snooker player is that he can control the table. Too many of his opponents are sucked into the realms of admiration for him, mesmerised and in awe of his skill. That’s a key element of why they don’t beat him. Yet he had to have that winning mentality bashed into him. It was not a natural emotion. His father didn’t want him to be a loser, he kept pushing him whether in a swimming pool, on a football pitch or on a snooker table. He could win a tournament and it was almost as if he had lost it. Ronnie ultimately wants perfection and to master the game. Always questioning his age and how much longer he can keep playing. He is best when he is bullying the table and worst when he is dragged into his opponent’s game. Calmed only by soothing words from his friends and a much needed cigarette, smoked out the dressing room window. A dressing room that at times can almost seem like a jail while others enjoy themselves outside. A player who still lives on the edge but maybe not so close to the edge of it.
Ronnie loves to strangle his opponent with power. A mercury thermometer where the red line keeps rising and rapidly reaches boiling point. Yet as he reaches the winning line, any turn can be ruined by sabotage. Nervousness is its most intense form and where all your energy is drained. Blurry eyes, scared and battered, Ronnie still manages to find something, escaping that electric, deafening buzz that snaps at your heels and feels your head with a high pitched screech. Yet when the winning line arrives, your arm frees up and all the balls go in. The tears of joy and ultimate relief are impossible to hold back with your legs feeling like two lead weights. Then comes the calm before the next storm.
