On Friday morning, Britain woke to the news of something unprecedented: a 153 break in professional snooker. Of course, it was Ronnie O’Sullivan.

During his World Open quarter-final against Ryan Day, the Rocket capitalised on a free-ball black to compile a break beyond the sport’s traditional maximum of 147. It was extraordinary, historic, and entirely unsurprising.

Snooker was back in the headlines. And once again, it was O’Sullivan who put it there.

Yet while icons across almost every other major sport are recognised by the honours system, O’Sullivan continues to be overlooked. He was awarded an OBE in 2016. But that hardly reflects the scale of his achievements or his influence.

He has won a joint-record eight World Championships, a record eight UK Championships, and a record eight Masters titles. At 50, he still has a realistic chance of securing an eighth world crown in 45 days, an achievement that would end any lingering debate about the greatest player of all time.

No one should be knighted for simply being talented at snooker. Or any sport for that matter.

But O’Sullivan is the defining figure of his sport. Not just its most successful player, but its most important one. A working-class talent who became a global icon in a working-class game, he should be celebrated as one of Britain’s greatest sporting figures of the modern era.

Instead, he remains conspicuously absent from the highest honours list.

Perhaps it’s a wider comment on snooker, which does not have a single knight or dame among its ranks.

Its popularity may not match the heights of the 1980s, but its international growth is undeniable and Britain remains its spiritual home.

The World Championship has been held in Sheffield since the 70s, the city is the home of snooker.

The UK Championship takes place in York. English and British Opens are in Brentwood and Cheltenham. The Welsh Open is held in Llandudno.

In an era where ‘levelling up’ is a political slogan, snooker has been quietly delivering it for decades.

And at the heart of it all is O’Sullivan.

For more than 25 years, he has carried the sport through peaks and tough periods when it drifted from the mainstream. When others faded, he stood tall. When audiences dipped, he drew them back. His talent is undeniable, but it is his personality, candid, combustible, compelling, that has made him unmissable.

He has transcended snooker in a way few athletes ever do. Even those with only a passing interest in the game know his name. Greatness is not just measured in titles, but in cultural impact, in the ability to keep a sport relevant, visible and alive.

In recent years, O’Sullivan has pushed for greater investment in the sport, warning that countries like China are accelerating ahead. He has spoken about building academies across the UK alongside fellow legends such as John Higgins, Mark Williams and Ken Doherty in an effort not just to preserve snooker, but to secure its future.

This is where the case for a knighthood becomes undeniable. It is not simply about what he has done, but what he continues to do.

Of course, honours should never be handed out lightly. But O’Sullivan’s contribution goes far beyond his ability with a cue. He has been the sport’s standard-setter, its attraction, and at times its lifeline.

The honours system is meant to recognise figures who shape British culture and elevate national life. By that measure, O’Sullivan is not a borderline case, but an obvious one.

A knighthood would not just recognise an extraordinary career. It would restore some faith in a system that, in recent years, has been increasingly devalued by a string of surprise awards.

Ironically, O’Sullivan himself once dismissed the idea. “It would be a disgrace to give it to someone like me… As long as I am loved by my fans… that is better than anything.”

The humility of a true knight. Sir Ronnie O’Sullivan is nothing less than he deserves and that he continues to be overlooked remains a disgrace.