Kyren Wilson’s hard-earned World Snooker Championship glory is the realisation of a destiny
The last few balls clapped into the pockets with a thud. For Kyren Wilson, perhaps this was the best moment of all: the match was over, his opponent destined never to return to the table, and before the trophy arrived and the tickertape fell, before the microphones and the questions and the signatures and the lifetime commitment to taking selfies with strangers, he was alone with his cue in a warm fuzzy stasis, delaying the gratification just a little longer.
Wilson’s long backswing flowed back and forth like a pendulum, gliding over his bridge hand and through the white ball. After 30 years of playing snooker, after hundreds of thousands of balls potted and missed, after days upon days of
