“It’s just a beautiful game – played beautifully. But when it is not being played beautifully, it is a nightmare.”
The above quotation comes from snooker player Ronnie O’Sullivan. It was made during a post-match interview, following a semi-final of the 2020 World Snooker Championship. During the denouement of that match, O’Sullivan overturned a 14-16 deficit, winning his place in the final by 17 frames to 16.
In that single quote, I felt that I immediately understood Ronnie O’Sullivan.
His sporting quest was not one of money, fame and championship titles. Mr O’Sullivan had arrived at a point where all that mattered was seeking the joy of mastery.
If you look up this interview on the internet, you will find this theme running through it. Ronnie, who by this point, has been at the top of the game for nearly three decades, was still searching for a perfect cue action.
Essentially snooker is a game of straight lines. If the cue is propelled towards the centre of the cue ball in a straight line, a good contact will be made. Such is the cue action that Ronnie describes, i.e. the ability to deliver the cue in a straight line.
Failure to strike in a straight line will send the ball off course, or impart unintentional spin, leading to a shot being missed, or position for the next shot not being found.
It should be said, however, that at the time of this semi-final victory, Ronnie O’Sullivan was a five-time World Champion. He is widely acknowledged as one of the greatest ever exponents of the game of snooker. This fact is what made the interview so fascinating.
Surely Ronnie O’Sullivan already has a beautiful cue action?
But Ronnie has always been a thinker. During the interview, he also mentioned that he had been reading a book, by Joe Davis, another snooker legend of yesteryear. Davis had also written on the importance of the cue action.
But what if the answer was not to be found in a book? What if it was also not in the coaching that he had received? For many years Ronnie had worked with six-time World Champion, Ray Reardon.
What if the perfection that he sought was already there?
There is a recognised condition in the game of darts, known as dartitis. A player afflicted with this condition is unable to let go of the dart during the throwing motion. It remains stuck in their hand. A legendary five-time World Champion in this sport, Eric Bristow, was a notable victim.
There was nothing physically wrong with Bristow, but in the act of not wanting to miss, his brain told him it was safer not to let go. If the dart wasn’t thrown, the dart couldn’t miss. It was almost a fight or flight response.
Ronnie O’Sullivan is still able to deliver a cue-strike with beautiful fluidity. I do not believe that winning or losing is something that bothers him. He seems to have transcended that need. But he does feel a strong need to uncover and deliver his personal definition of snooker beauty.
As a player, he has reached such rarified air that the sporting spectacle of the game his faded, just leaving his own quest for mastery. In the Japanese learning cycle of “shu-ha-ri,” O’Sullivan is deeply into the “ri” stage, where he is questioning form itself.
But he cannot “think” himself further.
The understanding is already deep within him. This knowledge becomes clear when he is absorbed in doing what he does best: potting balls and break-building.
In this circumstance, O’Sullivan stops thinking and enters a flow state. You can almost see him fade into and become one with the table and the balls.
O’Sullivan will find his cue action when he stops seeking it externally. It has always been there. Personal thought was blocking what is within. It is a gift that he has always had.
O’Sullivan’s default snooker setting is connected genius. When perfection is sought from the external world, through thought, coaching and books, this genius becomes bogged down and lost.
We all have a deep connection within us, whether that be to art, sport, work, or even one another and our own inner peace. As children, we had it. Then life piled on top, and we lost our purest selves within thought.
Dandapani says that we are consciousness flowing through different areas of our mind. When thought quietens, and the analysis stops, we are free to enjoy the awareness without judgement and find our genius within.
I, for one, will watch the 2020 World Snooker Championship Final with interest. Will Ronnie, or his opponent, Kyren Wilson, find that flow state and just play for the pure joy of the art?
I hope so.
Simon D. Gary is the author of the book “Kaizen Your Life.” This book describes the methods of the Japanese business masters, and how you can successfully apply this to your day to day living.