Ronnie O'Sullivan's moving, nay heroic, protest at the pathetic reward on offer for a 147 at the Welsh Open has surely inspired so many disenfranchised peoples suffering around the world today. Ronnie politely told the organisers they could clean their backside with the £10,000 they were planning on giving him. Truly, he belongs on the same plain as James Connolly and Jim Larkin.
Don't get too attached to your job
Ronnie's blatant disrespect for his own profession is perhaps his most salient feature. The key here is to mope around the office while simultaneously being the most productive and talented member of the team.
Ronnie is the real life equivalent of the laid-back jockey in that Harry Enfield sketch, pausing absent-mindedly for a natter with a rival jockey before breezing by him.
Pick up a pen
We know that Ronnie doesn't really like snooker that much and he may about to tell his chosen sport to do one and ditch it for the publishing world.
It's a crime caper and is quite predictably called Framed. Elements appear a touch autobiographical. Publication date is June. Keep eyes peeled.
Frankie James is a young man with a lot on his shoulders. His mother disappeared when he was fifteen; his father’s in jail for armed robbery; and he owes rent on his inherited SoHo snooker club to one of London’s toughest gangsters. Things, you’d think, can only get better.
Actually, they’re about to get a whole lot worse. Frankie always swore to his mum he’d keep his younger, wilder brother out of trouble. However when Jack turns up at the club early in the morning, covered in someone else’s blood, with no memory of the night before, it seems there’s no way Frankie can make good on his promise.
With Jack banged up, awaiting trial for the vicious murder of a bride-to-be – a murder that’s sparked an even more vicious gang war between London’s two foremost crime families – Frankie knows a conviction could quickly turn into a death sentence if he doesn’t discover who framed Jack…
Hang around with a host of odd characters with weird names
The writer Colin Barrett has noted before that Ronnie O'Sullivan sounds like he's living in a Martin Amis novel. A profile of Ronnie in the New Yorker opened up a world of dodgy geezers and starry-eyed hangers on with ersatz sounding names.
Snooker. Dad an excon jazz merchant. Consorts w/people named Chic Gourlay, Judd Tripp, Django Fung&permits Damien Hirst to follow him round
— Colin Barrett (@ColinBarrett82) April 7, 2015
Spend time on a pig farm
The Beatles decamped to India for some rest and meditation when the whole scene became too hectic in the late 60s. Similarly, Ronnie O'Sullivan headed for a pig farm when he couldn't be arsed playing snooker anymore in the 2012/13 season.
Try on philosophies and religions like nobody's business
Desperately, perennially, grasping for meaning, Ronnie has been 'linked' - in football tabloidese - with many of the world's religions, including Islam and, somewhat inevitably, Buddhism - which is less of a religion than a fashion statement.
The Tortured Genius Pose
One should try and adopt a moody, soulful disposition. Effect being pissed off at the world. Buy a book on tortured geniuses and copy most of the behaviour.