In the world of snooker, few names carry the weight and aura of Ronnie O’Sullivan. The six-time world champion, often hailed as the most naturally gifted player in the history of the sport, has spent decades at the very top. Yet even for a legend like O’Sullivan, doubts and dismissals have never been far away. After his victory over Kyren Wilson at the Saudi Arabia Snooker Masters, O’Sullivan admitted that being written off had sparked something inside him—a fresh determination to prove people wrong.

“I’d heard some people saying I was done, that maybe I didn’t have the same hunger anymore,” O’Sullivan confessed. “That actually made me want to try a bit harder. Sometimes, when you’ve achieved so much, you need that extra motivation. Being written off gave me that push.”
The match against Wilson was more than just another victory in a glittering career. It was a statement. Wilson, a younger star of the game and a consistent presence in the latter stages of tournaments, represents the new generation hungry to dethrone O’Sullivan. For many, the contest was a litmus test—could O’Sullivan still outwit and outlast players a decade younger? The answer came emphatically on the baize.
From the opening frames, O’Sullivan’s cue ball control and tactical sharpness were on display. While Wilson fought valiantly, he often found himself under pressure, forced into difficult shots by O’Sullivan’s precision. The veteran’s break-building reminded the crowd why he has long been nicknamed *The Rocket*: quick, ruthless, and utterly composed. But beyond the artistry, there was fight—a willingness to grind, to chase down every point, and to silence the voices that had counted him out.
“I don’t always need to prove myself,” O’Sullivan reflected afterwards. “I’ve been around long enough, I’ve won enough. But sometimes it’s nice to show that I can still compete, still dig in, still deliver at the highest level. Kyren’s a class act, but today I felt sharp. And maybe that’s because people said I wasn’t anymore.”
What makes O’Sullivan’s admission so revealing is the paradox it highlights. For a man who has often spoken about his love-hate relationship with the sport, and who has at times considered walking away, the fire to compete can still be ignited—not by trophies or records, but by doubt. For a player as instinctive and emotionally driven as O’Sullivan, the idea of proving people wrong seems to be as strong a motivator as lifting another title.
The Saudi Arabia Snooker Masters is a landmark event in the sport’s expansion, attracting global attention and offering players a chance to etch their names into history. For O’Sullivan, the win over Wilson was not just about advancing in the tournament—it was a reminder to himself and to the snooker world that even at this stage of his career, he remains a force to be reckoned with.
“I just went out there and enjoyed it,” he said, smiling. “But when you’ve got something to prove, even to yourself, you find that extra gear. Tonight, I found mine.”














