A Tale of Two Rockets

Firstly, a declaration: I like snooker. I’ve never really been sure why I’m such a fan of a prissy and antiquated pseudo-sport on which heavy traces of the Edwardian drawing room lie heavy. Is it a mathematical attraction to patterns and angles? Perhaps. One reason may be that certain players throw up all sorts of mixed emotions that I don’t experience in watching other sportspeople.

Take Ronnie O’Sullivan, for instance. I have such mixed feelings that I feel the need to write paired pieces, both of which express an aspect of my thinking on the matter, and neither of which is the whole truth, in and of itself.

Why I Don't Like Ronnie O'Sullivan

When sports stars like the incredibly talented Marcus Trescothick and the surprisingly effective Michael Yardy have to truncate their international careers or limit their international opportunities as a result of widely publicised mental health problems, it does absolutely no good to have someone like O'Sullivan 'threatening' to retire from the game at every hint of things not quite going his way: the viewing public, quite rightly, see such ‘threats’ as so much hot air, which in turn diminishes the amount of sympathy for sportsmen and women with genuine health problems.

Mark Williams, O'Sullivan's fellow professional, perhaps had it right when he offered a rather biting comment on the other's vacillating attitude towards the game:

If he wants to pull out or retire, then just do it, because he's talked about it so many times... Just do it if you want to.

Sadly, this is how hearing some of O'Sullivan's comments on his commitment to snooker makes me feel -- a real pity, given that he is such an undeniably great sporting talent.

Why I Would Rather Watch O'Sullivan Than Any Other Snooker Player

The reason I would rather watch O'Sullivan play than any other is quite simple. It's not that he is great, although he is; it's not that he keeps the game flowing in a pleasing way, although he does; it's that at his best, he plays the game with the sort of carefree abandon with which Chris Gayle hits a 70-ball Test Match century, Chris Ashton carves open opposition back lines, or Lionel Messi leaves defences looking very stupid.

It doesn’t matter that Stephen Hendry, in terms of sheer numbers of titles won, will probably always be ‘a better player’ than O’Sullivan: it’s a case of Iniesta vs Scholes, or Lara vs Dravid; as undoubtedly great as the alternatives may be, you’d always rather see the one who plays the sport (or game, or hobby, or life) with style.

It is possibly this very Janus-like ability to encompass such conflicting opinions that makes me love sport. (Yes, all sport -- including snooker...) It is why Ronnie O’Sullivan has me purring in awe and shouting abuse at the television, almost in equal measure -- with behaviour like that, it’s probably a good thing I’m not at Sheffield this week.