Ronnie O’Sullivan set to sock it to rivals a year after losing shoes and the plot in Crucible farce

The good news for Ronnie O’Sullivan fans is that he seems to have sorted out a decent pair of shoes this year.

Snooker’s Rocket man also seems to be ready to put his best foot forward as he tries to achieve one of his last remaining targets in the game by snagging the World Championship for a sixth time in his fifth decade roaming both the earth and Essex.

Not only is O’Sullivan chasing the trophy, he is also racing against time to equal and perhaps surpass folklore. He won here for a fifth time three years ago, but continues his quest to equal the respective hauls of six achieved by Ray Reardon and Steve Davis in the 1970s and 1980s.

He would also move to within one success of Stephen Hendry's declaration of seven in the modern era. Yet curiously enough, Scotland’s 'Wonder Bairn' never hoisted the old pot above his head beyond the age of 30, last winning the trophy in 1999.

While last year O’Sullivan himself admitted he was distracted and obviously bothered by happenings in his private life outside of the Crucible hothouse, this time around he has rocked up at the chaotic little venue with a sense of theatre, a real spring in his step buoyed by a nifty pair of brown shoes, more brogues than loafers, a chirpy demeanour and a belief that the glorious Welsh entertainer of yesteryear Cliff Wilson was the best single ball potter in the history of the sport. No matter how you view snooker's great maverick, you can never accuse the chap from Chigwell of being predictable.

When the game’s top 16 were dusted down, suited and booted for Friday’s tournament launch in Sheffield, O’Sullivan appeared with jeans, t-shirt and a cardigan set-up. Comfort and candour remain natural bedfellows as the years inexorably roll by.

O’Sullivan’s first outing this week comes when Gilbert and O’Sullivan are alone again naturally from 2:30pm (BST) on Sunday afternoon. He will bounce out to face Dave Gilbert, a slim underdog who must have lamented the draw when he seen what he could have won elsewhere in the first round.

O’Sullivan has already stated that he is not overly bothered about what fate lies in store for him this week, but that is probably his own mechanism to relieve the strain. When you study the way he has been hitting the ball in practice, fate does not come into it. If O’Sullivan brings his practice game to the match table, fate will not be an issue.

He will be the master of his own destiny over the impending fortnight and two days when Sheffield goes a bit snooker loopy. Especially over the main attraction. "They are all tough players these days," comments O'Sullivan, well aware that the tag of tournament favourite also makes him a moving target, and a hallowed scalp.

Yet O’Sullivan’s mood was all a bit different around the old joint 12 months ago when he was meeting qualifier Craig Steadman in the first round.

At one point, he decided that his shoes were too tight before progressing to win a frame in his socks. He wound up borrowing a pair from a World Snooker official, but it was clear his mind was on other things.

A win over a poor Matthew Stevens in the second round eased him into the quarter-finals before Stuart Bingham deservedly ended his tournament on his way to winning the event. Things were obviously not all well with him, but that is part of the ongoing fascination enveloping the O'Sullivan persona. You never know what you are going to get.

Making a crude gesture with his cue and illegally using his chalk by placing it on the table to see if a ball would pot were other incidents that led you to the belief that all was not what it should be.

“Personally, I think it is a sign that he is not focused properly on winning the World Championship and that he has got other things on his mind,” said Stephen Hendry when studying O’Sullivan’s shenanigans.

O’Sullivan has seen and done it all at a diminutive venue that is bursting to the seams trying cope with a tournament that was staging the event when Ronnie was two.

In the tournament’s 40th year of hosting the World Championship, O’Sullivan is aiming to win the title at the age of 40.

He would be the oldest world champion of the modern era, and the oldest winner since Bingham carried it off at the age of 38 a year ago. Not that age will come into it. Reardon was champion here aged 45 in 1978, and people tend to look like they have less hectic paper rounds these days when you imagine Dennis Taylor, then 36, overcoming Steve Davis in 1985. Like Benjamin Button, Taylor looks younger 31 years on.

If O’Sullivan clicks, time is not the main barrier. His attention span is more questionable, but Steve Peters, the sports psychiatrist, has been in town this week to assist with the oiling of the mental compass.

It feels like O’Sullivan has lived a lifetime inside the Crucible.

He has made one of his 13 career maximums here in five minutes and 20 minutes, and was fined £20,000 for sticking the head on a tournament official 20 years ago when he was also accused of disrepecting opponent Alain Robidoux by playing left-handed despite having the ability to excel with the cue in either hand.

He is 1-33 to overcome Gilbert in the first round, odds that would hardly alter if he played the entire match with his left hand.