Ronnie O'Sullivan on snooker, life and his bid for World Championship glory.

“I remember this pig was walking around in poo all day and my girlfriend said: ‘That’s why people don’t eat pork, because it’s a dirty animal – and you’re eating that.’

As soon as she said that, it just done me in. I look at a bacon sandwich now and I’d love to eat it, but I just can’t. But then everyone says to me: ‘Well, every animal is like that.’ So I give up. I’ll just stick to fish, I think.”

 

Giving up the bacon butties isn’t the only change O’Sullivan has experienced over the past five years. For a period of more than two years – from late 2009 until his German Masters triumph in February 2012 – O’Sullivan failed to win a full ranking event. “My horrible run of form,” he calls it.

In January 2012, he exited the Masters meekly, losing 6-2 to young pretender Judd Trump. O’Sullivan was 36 years old, already six years older than when his idol Stephen Hendry won the last of his seven world titles.

A changing of the guard seemed to have taken place.

Then, less than four months later, O’Sullivan cruised to a fourth World Championship.

Did the fact that he was being written off in favour of players such as Trump and Ding Junhui motivate O’Sullivan’s return to form? He offers a wry smile.

“In some ways that was the least of my thinking, because what was going on off the table [glandular fever and personal problems] was the cause of why I was playing badly. I lost my drive.

“But then, seeing a lot of the younger guys was great in helping me refocus – and, in some ways, reinvent myself. Because the modern-day player is aggressive, they have better technique than some of the old guys and incredible cue power. So the game is played in a different way to the way it was ten, 15 or 20 years ago. I decided that, if I was going to try and compete with this generation, I needed to change my game and the shots that I was playing.”

 

Attacking intent
One of the remarkable things about O’Sullivan’s late career resurgence, however, is the style in which he has beaten a younger generation of players. In snooker – or any other competitive sport – as a player ages, they tend to win by reining in their aggressive instincts; to rely on their experience and savvy to beat gifted youngsters. O’Sullivan has not compromised on his style of play.

At 38, he remains one of the most exciting, attacking, rapid-fire players on the circuit.

O’Sullivan praises Trump in his 2013 autobiography Running as doing “a lot of things right”, but notes a chink in the armour. When behind in a match, Trump tends to go all out to take on attacking pots. But when he had levelled up the frames, Trump would play more conservatively. For O’Sullivan, choosing to take the initiative at crunch times is key to his success.

I had to learn that,” he confesses. “When I turned professional and started playing Stephen Hendry regularly, I’d have a lot of results where I’d lose and think: ‘I nearly had him.’ But then I thought: ‘If I keep nearly getting there, but keep losing, he must be doing something I’m not.’

“I realised what it was. Against other players, you’d be almost comfortable in tight situations. You’d feel: ‘Hold on – they’re not going to take that ball on at this stage.’ Whereas, when it got to a vital part of the game against Hendry, he actually seemed to get more aggressive. I decided that I was going to take that philosophy into my game. I needed to make it happen, rather than wait for it to happen. It made me become much more of a winner, because I learned that from him.”

 

Ronnie remarkable
O’Sullivan may have generally struggled early on against Hendry, but his first, big breakthrough success came in beating the Scot in the UK Championships in 1993. O’Sullivan was 17 years old. Looking at him sitting before us now, a tad greyer around the sideburns, but trimmer and fitter than he was then – a result of his passionate love of running – it’s hard to believe that was more than 20 years ago.

 

But then, the Ronnie O’Sullivan story makes little logical sense. Young, gifted tyro is sporadically brilliant. Wins major titles, but battles depression, related drink and drug use, and runs into trouble with his sport’s authorities. His talent seems to wane as he gets to his mid-thirties. At this point, you might expect a brief career resurgence – one glorious, unexpected, big tournament win against the dying of the light.

But O’Sullivan is currently dominant in a way he never was in his twenties.

He won his first back-to-back world titles in 2012 and 2013, and is the bookies’ favourite to make it a hat-trick in the World Championship, which starts at the Crucible Theatre in Sheffield on April 19. He won the Masters in January, losing just seven frames in four matches against the world’s best players. Does it amaze him, as it amazes us, how his talent has remained evergreen after 20 years of dramatic ups and downs?

“People did say that to me, I think Steve Peters told me: ‘You’re going to find it really difficult to come back,’” O’Sullivan replies. “I said:‘Really?’ Because, in my mind, I wasn't coming back – I’d just had an extended periodof holiday.

“It was weird, because I hadn’t played for about seven or eight months and my mate said: ‘Come and have a game.’ I said: ‘That’s the last thing I want to  do, mate.’ But I did, and in the first frame I scored a 90 [break], the second frame 100, then I went 140. I’ve never played so well!

“I thought: ‘F**k me – sorry for swearing – this is unbelievable. I haven’t picked up a cue in eight months.’ And that’s when I thought – at my age and at my stage in my career – maybe less is best. But it’s okay doing it on a practice table. I then had to transfer that on to the match table. That was going to be the challenge: can I compete against guys who have been playing week in, week out? So I didn’t really expect to go and do what I did [win the tournament].”

 

Spiralling out of control
With O’Sullivan, however, the demons are never held completely at bay. He recently admitted to TV and talkSPORT presenter and friend Andy Goldstein on Eurosport’s newly launched The Ronnie O’Sullivan Show that he was in a bad place earlier this year.

“Not many people know, but about two days before the Masters, I was going to pull out because of stress and exhaustion again,” he explains. “I played so much in September, October, November. I tried to play as much as I could and, with the stress of everything going on, I was really struggling, to be honest… Everything was spiralling out of control.”

At least O’Sullivan is now better equipped to handle these testing episodes when they come. There was a time in his life where he’d have let this get the better of him. Whether it’s pulling out of tournaments, going on booze benders or assaulting a snooker official (as he did at the Crucible in 1996), controversies have pockmarked his career.

“There’s a lot of things I wish I would have been able to do differently,” he admits. “Sometimes I wish I’d have kept my mouth quiet, or I wouldn’t have walked out of a match [as he did against Hendry at 4-1 down in their UK Championship quarter-final in 2006]. Sometimes I wish I would have not met a certain girl, or this or that.

“You just want to keep life simple, but for me life ain’t like that. I get frustrated a lot of the time. But I’ve always found that, on the back of a moment where I’ve done something stupid, I’ve always responded positively. I’ve always thought if you take that [unruly] side out of me and I’d just been a plodder, then maybe I wouldn’t have had that way of responding. In some ways, if I’ve made a mistake, I’ve always seen it as a chance to put something right in the next tournament.”

The fragile genius who wouldn’t be so brilliant without his flaws: it’s a classic sporting character. Albeit not one that always has a happy ending. But O’Sullivan has a balance in his life now that was absent in the past.

“My relationship with snooker is probably the best it’s ever been,” he says. “You get to a certain stage in your life where you think: ‘Well, I’ve wrestled with something that much – if I can’t enjoy it now, then there’s no point.’

“I’m probably getting more success because I don’t take it as seriously as I used to. I’m doing stuff with Eurosport, I make time for my family, I make time for my running and snooker has just become a thing where… I’ve done it for 25, 30 years now. I’m not going to be a slave to it no more. It’s going to be done on my terms.”

 

King of the Crucible
O’Sullivan’s next Eurosport show features Ronnie in Sheffield, talking about his year away from the game and his return for the 2013 World Championship. He admits to having some mixed feelings about the tournament.

“The World Championship is such a mental endurance,” he says. “If you go all the way, it’s 17 days, which is a long time to keep your concentration and keep your form.

“You go through so many different emotions there, but the beauty of it is sometimes you come out of it and you win it. Then you think: ‘Cor, how did I do that?’ Ten days ago, in the early rounds, I was not feeling great, I was doubting myself – then, all of a sudden, you’re in the final and you’re playing well and you’re confident.”

“I just like this time of year,” he adds, glancing out of the window at a pleasant spring afternoon in Chigwell. “Come March and April, the winter is out the way. Plus Sheffield is a great city and the tournament comes around at a good time, I think. Because you start getting lighter nights and in general I just feel better about this time of year. I’m really excited about being there.”

The dark days might never fully go away for O’Sullivan, but he’s basking in the sun right now. It’s bright news for snooker fans. But, for the other players trying to win this year’s world title, the forecast remains the same: dim outlook with a strong chance of Ronnie later.