Snooker legend Ken Doherty has announced his retirement from the game’s main circuit.
The 1997 world champion turns 57 in September and says: “It’s been the thrill and pleasure of my life, a magical journey.
“I probably should have done it years ago to be honest. It’s just gotten so much harder as I’ve gotten older.
“Winning the world title was the greatest thrill. The open top bus ride through Dublin was like something out of a dream.
“To bring that trophy out at Lansdowne Road on the day of an Irish match, at Croke Park when Dublin were playing Meath, at Celtic Park and, the pinnacle for me, to walk out at Old Trafford with Alex Ferguson, the stuff of dreams.
“It’s 30 years next year since I won the world title. I would have loved one more shot at The Crucible. But the young lads are just too good. They have youth on their side. Sadly, I no longer do.”
Doherty recalls days and dreams at his old Crucible stomping ground, notably that tremor-inducing world title triumph 29-years-ago.
A night preserved in aspic, Ken emulating boyhood hero Alex Higgins by defeating Stephen Hendry to claim one of sport’s most iconic prizes.
On other occasions as the 56-year-old takes a seat to observe the film of his own life, images of the late father and mother develop in the darkroom of his mind and he grows quieter, thoughtful, the love pouring from him like water from a fountainhead.
“My one regret is that my Dad never got to see me play. He died very young, when I was only 13 in 1983.
“He used to let me stay up and watch Pot Black with him on a Thursday night. I was only eight. He was a huge Ray Reardon fan. I was mesmerised by Alex Higgins.
“That year there was a small little snooker table at the end of my bunk bed on Christmas morning. That was the beginning, my father letting me stay up to watch Pot Black – the start of it.”
Nineteen yeas on, all his doubts melting away under the Sheffield lights, Doherty won the World Championship.
Famously his mother, Rose, had been too nervous to watch. She cycled to Clarendon Street Church to light a candle for Ken, suffered a puncture on the way home and heard from a passer-by that her son was champion of the world.
“There were hundreds at Dublin Airport when I got back. She was at the front. Just to see her there. Jeez. I handed her the trophy and told her ‘that’s for you Mam, for all you’ve done, for all the sacrifices…’”
It remains a moment of such gut-bursting power that his voice tails off as he stops to chalk the cue of his composure, the umbilical cord of love again conjoining mother and son.
Doherty can hear again the demons in his own ear as he sought to take down the great Hendry.
“I remember I was 15-7 up against Stephen and he came back to 15-12. He was noted for his comebacks. He was going for six titles in a row. I was properly shitting myself.
“I was thinking to myself ‘not me, not now, not in the final, not here. This is my moment. Don’t do this to me, because I’ll never get over it.’ If he had have come back and beaten me I probably never would have recovered.
Doherty remains enraptured by the game, “it blessed me, changed my world for the better”.
As far back as the 1985 final between Dennis Taylor and Steve Davis, he discovered it was his first love.
“I was 14, going out with a girl from Donnybrook. I was dropping her home hoping to get a kiss and a cuddle and hoping that all the family were gone to bed. Because it was 11pm or something like that.
“Of course when we went into the house they were all up, glued to the TV watching the snooker.
“So I knew the kiss and cuddle wasn’t coming, so I said ‘f*** this, I’m running back to Ranelagh to watch the end of the match’.
“That superheated my ambition. If Dennis could topple the great Steve Davis, a player who was almost invincible at that time, then a young lad from Ranelagh could dream.”
Doherty remains the only player in snooker history to have won the Triple Crown of Junior (U-21), Amateur and Professional World Championships. He convulses into laughter as he recalls the first of those victories.
“I didn’t even know it was on. I was 19, I’d only just come over to London from Ireland with 500 quid, my cue and a little bag of clothes.
“A fella from London, Curly Mick, said ‘are you going to Iceland?’ I told him I couldn’t afford. He asked if he paid for my flight would you go. I said ‘f***ing right I will.’
“Curly Mick – to this day I don’t know his second name, he’d a mop of curly hair, he was a gambler from London who loved the snooker.
“I beat Jason Ferguson in the final. I got 3,000 quid, a perpetual silver cup and a trophy with an Icelandic flag made of volcanic rock. Curly Mick asked to bring that trophy back to his mates in London to take a few pictures. I never saw him or the trophy again. Not once to this day…he disappeared.”
The uncontainable warm rush from those later spring days in 1997 has lost none of its thermal powers. He glows as he remembers.
“An open top bus through Dublin. Even to this day I can’t believe that happened. It was like something from a movie.
“A Chief Superintendent told me they didn’t have a single phone call reporting a crime to Garda HQ in Harcourt Square for the last three hours of the final.
“A girl on the Garda switchboard rang Telecom Eireann to report a fault with the phones, that nobody was getting through. The person on the other end of the line said ‘there all watching the bleedin’ snooker.’
“The Superintendent said to me ‘Doherty, you should be on television more often, you’d make my life an awful lot easier.’
“The funny thing is after such a wonderful year, going out onto the pitch in Lansdowne Road and Croke Park on Leinster final day with the trophy, being invited to Celtic and Old Trafford, I made the final again in 1998, but got beaten by John Higgins.
“I get back to Dublin Airport and instead of an open top bus I had to queue for a f***in’ taxi home.”
He will continue to play on the Masters circuit and to commentate on a game that lives in his heart
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