O’Sullivan’s cue to learn from sporting elite

Snooker’s enigma ought to make hay while the sun shines.

Ronnie O’Sullivan is a difficult man to please.

Despite cruising to the most impressive world title triumph of his career, O’Sullivan’s favourite moment during his fortnight in Sheffield appeared to come when a member of the audience broke wind during his semi-final win over Judd Trump. 

Such has been the defending champion’s outward malaise and comprehensive route to the title, the BBC have struggled to sell snooker’s crown jewel this year.

Perhaps it will become the Englishman’s magic trick. Each year he will walk away from the sport only to emerge seemingly unprepared and undercooked each April to lift snooker’s most coveted prize.

On the other hand, perhaps the enigmatic cueman has potted his last ball on the world stage. He may cite boredom or deeper psychological problems for his exit but as sporting legacy goes, it is hard not to think that the 37-year-old is going out with so much more in his locker.

It is difficult to understand the driving force behind O’Sullivan’s threats.

If he thinks exiting now will give his snooker epitaph an added allure and mystery, he ought to reconsider fast; Memories of the sporting media and fans alike are spitefully short.

Sporting history is littered with sporting icons who have seen their bodies pack in long before their desire to compete at the highest level. It seems unnatural for O’Sullivan to walk away from a sport he can still dominate.

He only needs to look over his shoulder at the punditry box for an example of how fragile periods of dominance can be- even in a sport where there are fewer physiological factors in a competitor’s decline.

Stephen Hendry, who has been enjoying his first year away from the tables at the Crucible since his retirement last year, won seven world titles before his 31st birthday. Despite seeming set for years of further supremacy, he never won snooker’s top prize again.

After another 13 years of seemingly hacking round the circuit searching for enjoyment and consistency, the Scotsman retired, safe in the knowledge that he had squeezed everything he could out of his career.

O’Sullivan seems yet to suffer this decline or gain this clarity or certainty.

Bjorn Borg is the oft cited example of a sportsman to have retired too early, and returned after years of regret, only to find he could no longer contend with the sport he left behind.  

But he is by no means alone.

As recently as last week, O’Sullivan could have taken time out from his quarter-final romp against Stuart Bingham to appreciate the significance of Barcelona’s 3-0 Champions League reversal at the hands of Bayern Munich.

 What he might have noted, apart from the eye-watering size of Munich’s victory, was the reluctance of the Spanish giants to select a front-line team with the talismanic Lionel Messi left on the bench for the whole of the second leg.

The Catalans- chasing their third Champions League triumph in five years- had nothing to play for domestically, having all but sewn up their league triumph, yet coach Tito Vilanova seemingly decided to throw in the towel before the second leg started.

The selection, and resulting performance, smacked of petulance and the decision to forego the chance of chasing down Munich’s 4-0 lead from the first leg was bewildering.

As it so happens, there would have been little Messi could have done to change the outcome of the game but it was illuminating that the Spanish team- perhaps coming to terms with the end of their own period of dominance- elected not to seek a final encore.  

It is hard not to see a similar petulance in O’Sullivan’s work. He plays his sport with an amazing sense of carefree abandon, yet expects to enjoy every moment of his experience. Perhaps he is simply an adulation junkie and will return for another hit next year, but if he follows through on his threats to pack away his cue and take a rest, it will have to rank as one of the most mind-boggling retirement decisions in sporting history. 

Ronnie O’Sullivan celebrates his world title triumph. Photograph: Getty Images

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Theresa May missed an easy opportunity on EU citizens' rights

If the UK had made a big, open and generous offer, the diplomatic picture would be very different.

It's been seven hours and 365 days...and nothing compares to EU, at least as far as negotiations go.

First David Davis abandoned "the row of the summer" by agreeing to the EU's preferred negotiating timetable. Has Theresa May done the same in guaranteeing the rights of EU citizens living here indefinitely?

Well, sort of. Although the PM has said that there have to be reciprocal arrangements for British citizens abroad, the difficulty is that because we don't have ID cards and most of our public services are paid for not out of an insurance system but out of general taxation, the issues around guaranteeing access to health, education, social security and residence are easier.

Our ability to enforce a "cut-off date" for new migrants from the European Union is also illusory, unless the government thinks it has the support in parliament and the logistical ability to roll out an ID card system by March 2019. (It doesn't.)

If you want to understand how badly the PM has managed Britain's Brexit negotiations, then the rights of the three million EU nationals living in Britain is the best place to start. The overwhelming support in the country at large for guaranteeing the rights of EU citizens, coupled with the deep unease among Conservative MPs about not doing so, meant that it was never a plausible bargaining chip. (That's before you remember that the bulk of the British diaspora in Europe lives in countries with small numbers of EU citizens living in the UK. You can't secure a good deal from Spain by upsetting the Polish government.) It just made three million people, their friends and their families nervous for a year and irritated our European partners, that's all.

If the United Kingdom had made a big, open and generous offer on citizens' rights a year ago, as Vote Leave recommended in the referendum, the diplomatic picture would be very different. (It would be better still if, again, as Vote Leave argued, we hadn't triggered Article 50, an exit mechanism designed to punish an emergent dictatorship that puts all the leverage on the EU27's side.)

As it happens, May's unforced errors in negotiations, the worsening economic picture and the tricky balancing act in the House of Commons means that Remainers can hope both for a softer exit and that they might yet convince voters that nothing compares to EU after all. (That a YouGov poll shows the number of people willing to accept EU rules in order to keep the economy going stretching to 58 per cent will only further embolden the soft Brexiteers.)

For Brexiteers, that means that if Brexit doesn't go well, they have a readymade scapegoat in the government. It means Remainers can credibly hope for a soft Brexit – or no Brexit at all. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to domestic and global politics.

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