After the lights went out in the early morning, the world fell silent, but Wu Yize found it hard to sleep. Through the window of his bedroom, he could see the Crucible Theatre—a place often called the “Mecca of Snooker”—where he had just claimed the World Championship title.
“I’m very tired, very sleepy, but as soon as I close my eyes, I just can’t fall asleep,” he described his state on the first night after winning. It wasn’t simple insomnia, but an emotional “aftermath”—the pressure, excitement, struggle, and choices that had been magnified and accumulated during the match, all rushing in at once after it ended.
This was the night of a champion, and also a complex moment for a young player—a dream turning into reality. That moment, as Wu Yize said, “was exactly the scenes I had imagined every day, happening right in front of me.” He spoke calmly, but the weight of a “dream come true” was hidden in the pauses between each word. This restraint might well be the same quality he showed during the match: never swept away by emotion, always listening to his inner voice.
The Shot You’re Certain About, You Take
In the final against England’s Shaun Murphy, Wu Yize didn’t think he was perfect. “There were some simple mistakes, but that’s normal.” In his view, a match like the World Championship, with its long format, “anything can happen,” and the key is not to avoid mistakes but how to adjust.
What ultimately decided the match was that critical moment. In the deciding frame, when he was trailing 0-8, his opponent offered him a difficult attacking opportunity. He decisively took the shot that changed his destiny—a choice to “win or lose.”
“I knew if I didn’t make it, I’d lose, but I still chose to attack,” he said. “Sometimes I’m willing to take risks. I think when deep down I want to attack, I have to listen to my own voice, and I’m willing to bear the risk of failure.”
“I’ve always been like this,” he admitted. “These risks have caused me to lose many matches, but also to win many.” In his view, the choice itself is not absolutely right or wrong; what matters is whether you are “certain.” “When you are truly certain about it, just do it.”
This personality has both shaped his playing style and paved his life path, including his decision to pursue a professional career at a young age.
The Path You’re Certain About, You Walk
Many miracles start with a difficult beginning. Wu Yize’s professional career began with a family’s gamble and the many hardships that followed.
“When I was little, I went to a pool hall with my dad for the first time, and I fell in love with snooker,” he said. Later, his mother bought a table for home, but the living room wasn’t big enough. “At that time I was just playing, but she was willing to change the house structure, knocking through a bedroom to make room for the table.”
In the early stage without a systematic coach, he and his father would review matches and analyze problems together. His father accompanied him in training, while his mother took care of daily life. The family was like a small snooker team. Later, his father came with him to England to make his way, while his mother stayed home, struggling alone with illness to support them. The couple sacrificed everything for their child.
“Without their support, I would never have stood here. I am borrowing their shoulders,” Wu Yize said.
To focus on snooker, Wu Yize came to England at 16, and his parents walked an irreversible path with him. Their choice was just like his crucial decision in the deciding frame of the World Championship: once certain, just do it.
“It was a very risky decision. If you don’t play well, you might lose everything,” Wu Yize said. “It wasn’t until I lost several matches in a row that I truly felt that pressure. I knew my family had sacrificed everything for me. I only had this one path; I had to make it work. That was a kind of all-or-nothing situation. Of course, I think it also continued some of my playing style.”
No Matter How Hard Life Gets, You Have to Face It
After arriving in England, Wu Yize quickly entered the professional environment, but along with that came long-lasting loneliness. He said he experienced “too many moments of loneliness,” but he considered it part of the sport. “Snooker is fundamentally a quiet sport that needs calmness and contemplation.”
His life had no entertainment, no social excitement, only repetition: practicing, eating, sleeping, working out, reading, and practicing again. He said that before the World Championship, he didn’t take a single day off for an entire month. “You not only have to maintain consistency during matches, but also in your daily life—doing the same boring and painful things day after day, but you have to prepare that way.”
More frightening than loneliness is the cruelty of professional competition. Wu Yize was initially unaware of this. “When I was little, I didn’t have any concept of it. I just watched cartoons, played pool, and ate snacks. I had no idea until after two years of practice, when I lost several matches in a row, that I understood that feeling, that pressure. I had to make myself stronger, to keep improving my level.”
Professional sports, especially snooker, can be brutal, leading many players to psychological issues. Seven-time world champion Ronnie O’Sullivan calls it “snooker depression.” Wu Yize feels this deeply. “I’ve always hated the feeling of losing. It’s very tormenting for a person’s psychology, especially when you turn professional. In a foreign land, you can’t integrate into life there, facing all the challenges and pressures, yet you need to keep honing yourself. At the beginning, it’s very difficult to win. Those feelings can easily destroy a person’s mental world. I’m also glad I managed to get through those tough times.”
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