Kyren Wilson proved why snooker must not turn its back on Britain's most iconic venue for World Championship

Sport is nothing without true fans, and Wilson reminded us all why these venues really do create magic.

In a memorable exchange during the closing stages, a spectator shouted encouragement to Wilson, urging him to finish the job.

The Warrior responded with characteristic humour, calling back "I'm trying!" before he then shouted out in frustration: "Oh, I hate this game sometimes!"

Taking to the table, he spectacularly sank the decisive black that left Higgins requiring snookers.

Both interactions were followed by fan laughter as the personal interaction in Alexandra Palace was truly felt moments before the conclusion, which saw a visibly emotional champion interact with the audience once more.

This summed up the importance of intimacy in snooker rather than the financial benefit of selling tickets.

Now with the Masters over, attention turns to the World Championship at the Crucible Theatre next in the Triple Crown calendar.

The famous Sheffield theatre's limited capacity of 980 spectators per session represents a significant barrier to increasing revenue, according to Neil Robertson's latest assessment.

The World Snooker Tour's current agreement with the Crucible expires in 2027, with discussions ongoing between the organisation and Sheffield City Council regarding the championship's future. Suggesting that the competition should leave the Crucible has its upsides, but it misunderstands what makes British sport matter.

While moving the Masters to the Alexandra Palace in 2012 was a success, somethings are best not to change.

Since 1977, the Crucible has been the spiritual home of snooker’s greatest tournament. In that time, it has become inseparable from the sport’s identity, drama, and intensity. The low ceiling, the closeness of player and spectator, all combine to create pressure and atmosphere unlike anything else in professional sport.

This is where legends are forged, and reputations are shattered. Whilst many top stars, including Ronnie O'Sullivan, would opt to move the competition overseas to the Middle East. They all recall how the Crucible is utterly unique.

Snooker, at its best, is a game of precision, patience and psychological warfare. The Crucible amplifies all three. Players feel the weight of history in the air, knowing that every missed black or nervy safety is being measured against the ghosts of O’Sullivan, Hendry, Davis and Higgins.

Critics argue that snooker has outgrown the Crucible, and that a larger arena would attract bigger crowds and generate greater revenue. And while that is the language of modern sport, obsessed with scale and spectacle at the expense of substance, it's not the British game of snooker.

Much like Britain itself, the sport has always understood that character can be more powerful than size. Sheffield’s relationship with snooker is not an accident. The city embraced the game when others overlooked it, and the Crucible repaid that loyalty by becoming a global sporting landmark.

Research conducted by Sheffield City Council has calculated that the World Championship generates an economic benefit of £4.5million for the city.

To wrench the championship away in pursuit of short-term gain would be to sever one of the most successful partnerships in British sporting history.

Culturally, the World Snooker Championship sums up what it is to be British. It unfolds slowly, over 17 days of endurance and nerve. It demands attention, respect and silence.

Saudi Arabia or other suggested locations simply don't have this in the modern entertainment era.

While I agree that snooker is crying out to evolve, snooker's overlords must not sacrifice what built them up in the first place, nor abandon tradition.

If it were to move, snooker would still have a champion, but would they have achieved it inside the Crucible Theatre? The asterisk next to their name cannot be removed.

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