“I will love you forever, truly, sincerely, and completely.”
On May 5, after clinching the 2026 World Snooker Championship, 23-year-old Wu Yize, born in 2003 in Lanzhou, Gansu Province, posted a photo of himself kissing the trophy draped in the Chinese flag, accompanied by a heartfelt message of eternal love for the sport.
With his victory at the Crucible Theatre in Sheffield, Wu became the first world champion born after 2000, and only the second Chinese player to win the title, following Zhao Xintong’s triumph the previous year. The historic venue — once graced by legends like Hendry and O’Sullivan — now belonged to the young Chinese powerhouse.
Ding Junhui, a pioneer who paved the way for Chinese snooker and reached the World Championship final a decade ago, expressed his excitement: “From Zhao Xintong to Wu Yize, Chinese players have now won the top prize for two consecutive years. This is not just a breakthrough — it’s the dawn of our era.”
Ding himself became the first Asian player to reach the World Championship final in 2016, but fell short. The honor of being champion had eluded him. Now, the younger generation has fulfilled that dream. Following Zhao’s win in 2025, Wu’s victory underscores the rise of Chinese snooker as a collective force.
Unlike Ding’s era, when Chinese snooker largely revolved around one star, today China boasts a deep roster: Zhao Xintong, Wu Yize, Xiao Guodong, Si Jiahui, Zhou Yuelong, Pang Junxu — all ranked in the world’s top 30 — and of course, the veteran Ding Junhui still competing at a high level.
Snooker is a highly commercialized sport, requiring respect for both competitive and market dynamics. The China Billiards Association has nurtured a national training system that balances youth development, event promotion, and market cultivation — cultivating talent from the grassroots up.
Wu himself embodied this mindset. After reaching the semifinals, he said, “I’m already very satisfied to have come this far. Now I just want to enjoy every moment on the table.” After winning, he credited his success to “the belief that I would give everything to achieve it.” The calmness of the semifinals and the drive of the finals are two sides of the same coin: dreams require steady steps.
Wu’s path mirrors Ding’s in many ways. Ding first played snooker on a worn-out table in his father’s small shop; his father sold their home and moved the family to Dongguan to support his son’s dream. Wu’s father also sold their Lanzhou home and relocated the family to Dongguan. When Wu went to train in England at age 16, he and his father shared a windowless apartment, sleeping on the same bed, struggling with language barriers. In his victory speech, Wu thanked his parents, calling them the “true champions.”
Such family sacrifices are built on unwavering belief in a dream. In a non-Olympic sport like snooker, where the margin for error is tiny, these stories resonate deeply. But they are not the whole picture. The growing depth of Chinese snooker — from Ding to Zhao to Wu — is rooted in an ever-richer soil of talent, support systems, and an increasingly passionate fan base. It is a testament to respecting both the sport’s competitive nature and its market realities.
