Words matter. These are the best Stephen Hendry Quotes, and they’re great for sharing with your friends.
I don’t think about technique. I just pot the balls.
I still enjoy a wee game of poker now and then, but I’m not very good, and being Scottish, I don’t like to lose that much money!
Judd Trump loves playing against the top players.
Snooker is my sanctuary and always has been.
For me, winning was ‘job done.’ I would practise the day after.
When I’m practising on my own, my game feels great, but there’s a big difference between practising on your own and playing against people.
Ever since I was a kid, I’d imagine that I was making a break to win the world championship.
I think the word ‘yips’ trivialises it; it is completely debilitating, like a cancer spreading through your game and just destroying it.
I tried hard to create my own records when a lot of them belonged to Steve Davis, so to see someone else beat yours, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a twinge of regret there.
In snooker, it’s very important to keep very still on the shot and allow the cue to do the work.
I loved being the best player in the world. There was no pressure staying there.
If I have regrets, it’s around my sons. There is no doubt they were affected by the divorce – Carter more than Blaine, I think.
In both snooker and poker, you have to play your best under pressure; I was always able to do that. I don’t think it is something you can teach. Your mental strength, your confidence, your self-belief has got to be very strong. That is the common denominator.
It is just down to confidence. When I haven’t got any, I hate playing the game.
I am not on tour any more, but I hear things, and there are stories that some players are not as dedicated as they should be and treating some of these PTC events in Europe as stag weekends rather than tournaments.
I love playing in China. The crowds here value success more than British people seem to.
You benefit from deep inner belief of having wins behind you, so you get to the table, and you know you’re not going to miss.
Larry David, he’s my hero. I want to be him – I want to act like him – everything.
Even when I used to play Jimmy White in Scotland, he would have the majority of the support. That’s the only time it would irk me, coming back to Scotland and people still wanting me to lose.
I am not a superstar in Britain.
By 2012, my game was shot. You’re sitting on your chair watching players’ leagues below you play shots you can’t. That destroyed me.
I put on the tuxedo, and it’s like putting on overalls – they’re my work clothes. Then I go to work. I’m relaxed. I do my job.
Going into a tournament with 100 per cent belief you will win it – that’s how I’ve always enjoyed snooker.
When you have a big lead, you relax and don’t concentrate as much.
I like cookery programmes: Anthony Bourdain going around the world eating stuff; Rick Stein – he’s another favourite.
Maybe I wish I could be out there on the big occasions playing like I did at my peak, but I certainly don’t miss the six and seven hours a day practice that went hand in hand with being world champion in the nineties – or losing to guys knowing that it would never have happened when I was at my best.
It’s the worst feeling in the world – to lose in the first round at Sheffield and then have to go home – because it’s such a long tournament, and it’s hard to avoid it. It’s on the TV all day every day, and if I lost, I didn’t want to be anywhere near snooker.
I grew up Dalgety Bay, in the Kingdom of Fife, in a 1970s bungalow. We moved there when I was nine and stayed for about six years.
Even though I say to myself that I was seven-times World Champion, the voice in my head says, ‘You can’t play this shot.’ It’s completely mental – quite literally. My confidence is sapped every time this happens.
I liked Dalgety Bay, but my life did not revolve around the house. I was a teenager there, and these things aren’t that important at that age.
I obviously know how good I was, and people refer to the modern game being tougher.
Financially speaking, I haven’t ended my career in the best shape, and there are debts, as well as what is to come by way of a divorce settlement to Mandy.
I remember far more shots that cost me matches than the ones that won me matches. That is maybe the way you think if you are someone who has won a lot of tournaments and had a successful career.
You get better as the rounds go on.
When I was playing Jimmy White in those finals, I could tell when he was under pressure.
The crowd could be tough to deal with at times, but I learned to use them and the way they behaved towards me as strong motivation.
The quarter finals is always an exciting round because you know you’re one match away from that one table situation: where the magic really starts to happen at the Crucible and where it starts to come into its own.
Reading from cover to cover – I’m not a great reader.
The thing is, with century breaks, maximums, ranking tournaments, these sorts of things are automatically going to be broken: it’s not if but when.
You really have to be winning by the time you get to 20 these days.
The tip I would give is that once you play the shot, make sure your chin is touching the cue after you hit the cue ball.
There are times when there’s been some discontent and muttered threats from audience members. I take no notice, and in any case, I always have John Carroll around to deflect unpleasantness.
Steve Davis has found a way of competing to a level that is not as high as it once was, enjoying his wins, and not getting too angry about the defeats.
Judd Trump’s bedrock of his game is potting good long pots, getting in, creating a chance, and winning frames at one visit.
I always loved playing in front of big audiences; now I’m jittery if one person is in the room watching me.