Ronnie O’Sullivan v Marco Fu: Frame-by-frame

Anyway, that's that; I'll be back on Thursday afternoon for O'Sullivan-Fu - thanks for your company and enjoy the rest of your day.

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He says the challenge for him is to dominate the table. He says that it doesn't really matter to his legacy if he wins another Masters or not, his tombstone won't care. But the style ha plays is important because it makes people happy, and if he'd lost he'd have a great time "with the Eurosport guys". Yeah! Everything has to be win-win, he says, so if he'd lost the game he'd have won by joining the best in commentary.

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"You're cocooned in your own little world and you have try and stay there," he says. He also says he's stopped playing exhibitions and two weeks off over Christmas helped him. He then says he feels like a part-time player because he's doing lots of other stuff he really enjoys, like writing books, so he's got something to look forward to once snooker finishes. He won't do anything unless it's on his terms, and his time is important to him.

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1hr 22 minutes, that took. "I was really struggling, I've got a virus, my vision was fuzzy," says Ronnie. He then says he was just playing on instinct and wonders if he's had too little magnesium after enjoying his exercise too much.

Fantastic shot from Ronnie, potting the black and then deliberately cannoning the yellow to try and pot the final red down the rail. It doesn't go down, but who cares? We have witnessed something phenomenally special this afternoon; we are privileged to living in Ronnie O'Sullivna's time.

Right then, Ronnie gets inagain, and methodically sets about clearing reds, each one removed opening a path for the next.

O'Sullivan attempts a fiendishly difficult red, misses, and leaves it. So Fu sees it home, but having had no table time isn't grooved and has to produce a great pot on the black, only to then miss the next red. He's probably about ready for the off.

A fantastic red into the middle splits the pack gently, then a pink into the green pocket ... but the only red on is a double. In trying to play it, O'Sullivan feathers a red with his hand, so calls a foul on himself when no one notices.

A poor break-off from Fu lets O'Sullivan in right away. He picks off some loose reds, then starts working his way through the pack.

So off goes O'Sullivan, romping around the table, a beautiful screw-back on a pink tucking him in behind the penultimate red, quickly drained thereafter. The another pink, a hard red made to look easy, that black from up in baulk ... but with another ton on the cards, he misses the yellow and O'Sullivan is one away. Fu had a shy in that frame, but once Ronnie got in, what a break to seal the frame!

Ok, another go: Fu crunks home a red before a loose shot on the green sees the white cannon the blue; he takes on a thin cut into the middle, and in it goes. And better still, the black is closer to in commimssion, near the yellow spot ... except he's only gone and missed the brown! That was straight, and a significant oversight.

OSullivan drains the white so Fu sends home another red before rapping in a tricky green to force his way down the table towards the reds. But there's nothing on, so a fine safety affixes the wiote to the bottom cushion.

Foul and a miss from O'Sullivan, and after more safety is exchanged, Fu rolls in a long red - his first of the match, so the crowd rub it in with cheering - in the knowledge that there's no colour on which to get. End of break.

You've got to laugh. O'Sullivan overhits his break and leaves Fu tight behind the green, so he rolls into the pack. Touching ball, so O'Sullivan sticks him back up the table, then Fu cannons the green to drop in behind the brown. Great shot, but O'Sullivan rolls into the pack and there's no touching ball, so they play off the side cushion for a bit till Fu has a chance to come back to baulk.

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Right, we're back; will the interview have cooled the Rocket?

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Anyway, that's the mid-session. Marco will go and chat with Terry Griffiths, but what he going to say? Play a less genius genius next time?

He's worked it out now - he may as well have removed the balls with his hands, but that wouldn't have been as affirming. There's a tricky red close to the side cushion that might militate a century ... NO THERE IS NOT! Ronnie develops it off the pink, and then the yellow gives him another ton! 99% pot success rate, three tons in the first four frames DRINK THIS IN BECAUSE YOU'LL MISS IT WHEN IT 'S GONE.

O'Sullivan works in a brown, but he's still chasing ... until a red with the rest gets him down the business end, problem being most reds are between black and blue. But he starts picking them off, moving them out of each other's road, and it's looking like we'll get to the mid-session without Fu having potted a ball.

O'Sullivan's pressure bullies Fu into playing a taxing pot, from baulk to middle; he overcuts, and after a routeplanning pause, O'Sullivan is back navigating the table.

Good shot from Fu to get out of it, but he's chasing here. Sooner or later, the pressure will tell, you reckon.

A safety exchange to start frame 3, balls scattered all over the table now. Whoever gets in will fancy themselves to make a framewinner, so Ronnie leaves Marco on the top cushion; good luck mate.

Fu needs this frame. Also, today is Tuesday and beards are rubbish.

Grin, gasp, weep - whatever you've got, wade in, because you'll never see the like.

So Fu plays a good safety leaving the white on the cushion - Ronnie taps the table - but moments later, he's rolling in a long, treacherous red and racing around the table to finish this frame with characteristic prejudice. This is Picasso, Hendrix, Eliot, Maradona, Edwards, Blanchett - this is why we're on this earth: to watch Ronnie O'Sullivan play snooker.

Ronnie runs out of position, so sticks Fu in the jaws of the green pocket; how d'ya like them apples?

I am quite close to tears here, this is just so, so good. It's not that every shot is perfect, no one can do that, it's how well he works out his route around the table and how well he redeems any marginal worsening of his situation. There's something so moving about watching someone do exactly what they're meant to do, let alone do it with such attitude and elan.

Fu forces O'Sullivan to play into the pack off the side cushion, which he does nicely. Then, with O'Sullivan's next shot he puts Fu in a spot, and with the black in the middle of the table getting in the road, Fu can only leave him straight on a red. Down it goes, then a blue, and here we go again.

And there it is, a blue punished home for the century, then a difficult red, and an amazing shot on the pink takes the white between yellow and brown, off the bottom cushion, then between green and brown. Ronnie O'Sullivan is a ludicrous, ridiculous, disgusting, joyous, epochal genius. That table did not look receptive to that kind of break, but there it is, there it was and there it will forever be.

Ronnie goes too hard at a black, so has to play a red up the table, the bridging slightly awkward. He rattles it home like a pro, I mean like a boss, and now it's about whether he can rustle up another ton. "This used to be a tough game," says Dennis Taylor, and really this is every expletive you know good.

After four blacks O'Sullivan moves onto the pink, which doesn't spot and ends up in the blue spot. The control of the cue ball is ridiculous, so too the smoothness of the cueing. No disrespect to Shabba Ranks, but I know who I'd rather.

Away we go in frame 2, and quickly the black is tied up. And it's Fu with the first chance, but without the cue power of some, he has to whack the chwhite harder than he'd have liked. The red jumps out of the jaws, O'Sullivan quickly rolls it in, the black posts, and here we go again.

And there it is, a black clacked home; "I hope you enjoyed your one shit in this frame, Marco, there's another coming up in a minute," says John Parrott. O'Sullivan then misses the final pink - I wonder what he meant by that - and in 9 minutes 16 seconds, the frame is did.

O'Sullivan is making this look mortifyingly easy, but needing only a few more points to secure the frame, he finds himself touching ball. So he has to bridge awkwardly over a red for a cut into the middle ... and it's there! He is cueing beautifully and soon secures the frame, so it's eyes down for the century.

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The other day, O'Sullivan said that al the players bar Higgins and Selby are numpties; in particular, I hope Shaun Murphy enjoyed that.

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Fu's response to the break-off is poor and O'Sullivan is right in with a red. Quickly, more balls disappear and already this looks like a chance.

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Ah yes, while I was wittering on about O'Sullivan beating Fu in the first round three years ago, I was forgetting about their classic in last year's semi-final. Anyway, OSullivan will break as he seeks to win his eighth one of these. His first came in 1995!

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And old Ronald. The crowd are pleased to see him.

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And now out comes Marco Fu.

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Right, over to Rob Palmer, who reminds us that Jethro Salmon, one of the table-fitters, died at the tragically young age of 25.

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As for Marco Fu, he's a great break-builder and really good under pressure. But interestingly, Shaun Murphy says that in hotter countries, where you need to pump the ball in a bit more, he's found out.

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Of course O'Sullivan is the defending champion here - he was brilliant in winning this trophy last term, hitting heights that maybe are beyond him now in the longest format. But over best of 11 and best of 20? Different story.

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Ally Pally has the least comfortable seats in which it's ever been my misfortunate for force my Jewish bum. Knees under chin, legroom that forces you to sit side on, not one position in which semi-comfort is achievable. So be happy you're on the couch, or even at your desk.

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These two actually played in the first round a few years ago - Ronnie broke Stephen Hendry's centuries record, in the first frame, noch, and won easily. But Fu has improved since then, and this should be a lot closer.

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Afternoon all and welcome to Ally Pally, where bestowed upon us we have Marco Fu v Ronnie O'Sullivan. It's not such a bad old life.