Ronnie O'Sullivan reveals surprising sport he would p if he could restart career

The famously tortured genius Ronnie O'Sullivan is looking remarkably untortured. And, according to him, he's not that much of a genius either. It was expected that he would play at the British Open snooker tournament, but he is notable by his absence.

Instead, he's arranged to meet me at a smallish hotel near to his Essex home, on the edge of Epping Forest, to discuss the paperback release of his new memoir - Unbreakable - in which he bares his soul about his sometimes troubled life.

O'Sullivan's mercurial story is familiar to many: a teenage snooker prodigy, winning titles within a year of turning professional, destined to conquer the sporting world and then... both his parents were jailed. First his father, for murder, then his mother, for tax evasion, and he went off the rails.

Cue six wild years of excess and addiction before, in 2000, he booked himself into rehab, tackled his demons, and the snooker records began to tumble on his way to becoming the record-equalling seven-times world champion two years ago.

Now 48, and still regarded by many as the most naturally gifted snooker player ever to grace the green baize, his book reveals some of the lessons he has learned from his colourful life.

He arrives in a black hoodie, shorts and sliders, with his hair tousled and sporting a warm, mischievous smile that suggests the resilient mindset described in the book is real enough.

"I've had an easy life. I've had the best life," he confirms. "None of this [in the book] is about victimhood. I've had a great life. I've had an amazing life. I'm just quite an emotional character. I say it as it is. I'm not afraid to tell people how I'm feeling.

"I don't see it as a weakness or a vulnerability. I always see it as a strength to get it out in the open. Then you can have a cup of tea and get on with your life."

O'Sullivan talks with the speed and directness with which he has always played snooker and which, from a very early age, earned him the nickname "The Rocket".

He also appears slightly contradictory, talking about his continuing love of snooker while, at the same time, explaining how he's had enough of it, with more than a hint his remarkable career will soon be jettisoned for the launch of a new chapter in his life. What has never waned is his talent, though he is contradictory about that too.

"I've always had tremendous faith in my ability to perform at the table. I've never worried about anything," he says. "That's always been my greatest asset. I just took strength from playing snooker. It was always my greatest friend, if you like.

"Even today, if I've got a problem, I just go and play snooker and forget about it. I'm lucky to have a relationship with something that's enabled me to do that."

But then he qualifies that: "I love playing well. If I'm playing great, it's the best feeling in the world, but if I'm not playing well I don't love it at all.

"I love the pressure. That doesn't bother me at all. I've always found that quite amusing. Like I said, I've always had tremendous belief in my ability. I've always believed there's not a human being on the planet who can compete with me if I'm playing decent.

"I knew that from the age of about 12. I knew that I was unplayable, really, at times. Not all the time. There are times when I am beatable and I do get beaten. I don't enjoy them times because I wonder, 'Where's my superpower gone?' But it comes back."

That talent survived even through the wild years of drink and drugs but, after visits to Narcotics Anonymous, then rehab, he found peace through running, which has been a constant in his life for the past 20 years.

He also paints, having been introduced to pointillism - producing a picture with small dots of colour - by his friend Damien Hirst. But the biggest change to his life, he says, was being able to keep his triumphs and difficulties in perspective, with help from elite sports psychiatrist Professor Steve Peters.

O'Sullivan explains: "Winning is not like the be-all-and-end-all to me. If I lose, well I'll get more time at home. If I win, OK, I know I'm going to be at a tournament for a few more days. I've trained myself to be like that. I think you've always got to find a positive in anything you do, so I never base my happiness on winning.

"When I was a kid, winning was everything. I used to cry, I'd get frustrated, but even then, playing well was the most important thing.

"If I played well, that was the buzz for me. I didn't mind losing. I'd be disappointed but I was always just fascinated with the game, playing it the best I could possibly play it."

That ability to separate success from failure was always innate, he says, but it was Peters who helped him to hone it into a deliberate strategy and turn him into a serial winner, just when he had been ready to turn his back on his sport.

"He was like the last throw of the dice for me. I was in my mid-30s and usually, by then, your time for winning tournaments is done, but my mate persuaded me to go and see Steve and I did and I just liked Steve so much that I thought, 'I want to spend time with this guy' and the only justification for spending time with him was by continuing to play snooker."

So why, fans might wonder, was he not at the British Open? There had been speculation O'Sullivan had pulled out because of difficulties in his long-term relationship with actress Laila Rouass.

Another explanation is his apparent love-hate relationship with his sport.

"At this stage of my career," he says, "I'm just not really that bothered any more, you know. I think I'm done with it all. Yeah, it was good while I was keen and motivated but when you're not keen and you're not motivated I can't kid myself and I don't want to kid Steve either, so I'm just... I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest."

Is there not one more World Championship in him, I wonder? An eighth title would prove him the undisputed greatest of all time.

"No. I can't be bothered, mate," he says.

"A lot of people think it's easy but it's not. It's not just skill or ability, it's guts, determination and drive and I'm all drived out to be honest with you. There's nothing left to prove, really. What's the point?

"I mean, I always say it's overrated, winning all them world titles and tournaments. It was a dream when I was a kid but now it's not all it's cracked up to be. I get more happiness from other stuff for less effort, so you have to recognise that and accept it."

He still likes the game, he insists, and adds: "People would ask, 'How can you play with what you've got going on in your life?' but I'd be like, 'What?' It's great escapism for me.

"That's probably why I'm scared to let go completely because it's always been a good friend." He has watched how his childhood idol, Steve Davis, has turned his back on snooker and found happiness in later life as a DJ, and feels the need to do something similar.

He tells me: "As a kid, I wanted to be that person [Steve Davis, or Stephen Hendry]. They were winners and that's what I wanted to be. I have always copied people.

"That's all I have ever done. I've never really worked out anything for myself. I've learned from other people. I'm not this person who is gifted or has invented anything.

"I've just copied Davis, copied Hendry, copied Jimmy White, copied John Higgins, copied Judd Trump. I'll look at what he does, or he does.

"I'll like the way he does that and I just copy people. I'm a typical copier. I'm not Einstein. There are really amazing people out there. I'm just a bloke who thinks, 'That seems to be working for you so I'll try a bit of that and see if it works for me.'

"I'm not that naturally gifted. I was not that gifted as a kid. There were always juniors more talented than me. I just worked really hard. I was just really stubborn and lucky that I copied the right people, like Steve Davis. I owe him a massive thank you. I could have copied someone else and you would never have heard of me.

"It definitely wasn't talent. I'm definitely not the most talented. I could name you 20 players on the circuit more talented than me, but I just worked a lot harder and was lucky to copy the right people."

Now he says he's ready to copy Davis again. "What music is to Steve Davis, racing cars is to me," he explains. "If I had my time again, I would probably have chosen a different sport, like Formula One - or just racing cars.

"It wouldn't have to be Formula One. It could be anything because I think, genuinely, that's what I love. Driving. Fast. Not piddling around at 20 miles per hour. That gives me brain damage. But get me on a track and, yeah, I love it."

He can't wait to show me a video some mates have sent him that morning of them driving their supercars through Europe and is clearly jealous that he wasn't able to go with them on this occasion. "I told them to call me in future because I'm pulling out of a lot of tournaments at the moment and I've got time."

Then he tells me of his plans to perhaps buy a supercar and maybe get into a racing team. "There is always that possibility. Something once I'm fully done with snooker and I've got time I'll definitely get into, but in the meantime I'm maybe going to do a few trips around Europe."

Still in a reflective mood, and with that mischievous smile, he tells me: "I'm 49 in a couple of months so I've got 20, 25 good years left in me. I don't think I want to be playing snooker for the rest of my life so how do I reinvent the next 25 years?

"How do I want them to look? I don't want to end up playing snooker and that's all I've done for my whole life, so I think it's about the next step now."

It seems like The Rocket is ready for a new orbit.Unbreakable by Ronnie O'Sullivan (Orion, £9.99) is out now. Visit or call Express Bookshop on 020 3176 3832. Free UK P&P on online orders over £25.