preamble
There’s a straightforward reason we find ourselves gathered here today: love. Love for snooker, love for the Crucible, for all the clichés, and for every little detail that comes into play. Just think about it: on every day of every tournament, the remarkably informed Crucible audience is also home to the most amusing individuals. Does Rob Walker consistently hold court like that, even with Mrs. Walker? And will Hazel manage to induce tears during an interview?
So, when someone threatens that—though we’d rather not think about it—we’re justified in how we feel. Unfortunately, that’s the situation with Zhao Xintong, who is about to become China’s first world champion but has just returned from a 20-month suspension for his role in match-fixing.
It’s hard to wrap your head around it. Consider how much we adore snooker; now imagine the depth of Zhao’s love for the game. It takes a serious passion to train hard enough to rank among the best worldwide, to be a 24-year-old who already won a triple crown event, to develop a distinctively flowing and exhilarating style filled with joy, and to see your life transform because of it. How could anyone jeopardize all of that—while also endangering the integrity of our beloved sport—for a bit of cash?
To make sense of this, we need to rewind to the pandemic. Zhao, like almost all the others accused, resided in Sheffield; he was young and far from home. Then lockdown struck. During this time, Liang Wenbo and Li Hang, now banned for life, leveraged their status to entice younger, isolated, homesick, and sometimes financially strained players into their scheme to profit through betting. They were caught, and now we’re left dealing with the fallout.
No one feels like discussing this today. Watching Zhao play feels like a celebration of the game itself; he embodies its present and future, equipped with everything necessary to introduce it to new audiences and revitalize old ones. If he triumphs in this final, that will happen.
We could argue he should have known better and that he’s fortunate to return to play; that’s probably a fair point. Yet, we could also reflect on our own youthful follies and, through the complicated but crucial journey of self-forgiveness, extend some grace to others. While we can’t overlook what happened, it’s likely that Zhao will carry the weight of shame and regret as long as he’s in the spotlight. Consider how much he loved snooker before—can we even fathom the depth of that love now?
Start: 1pm BST
