Title: “Redemption on the Baize: Can Steven Lee Find Forgiveness in Snooker’s Second Act?”
In the world of professional snooker, few stories have been as controversial and emotionally charged as that of Steven Lee. Once a rising star in the game, known for his smooth cue action and tactical intelligence, Lee’s career came crashing down in 2013 when he was handed a 12-year ban for match-fixing. Now, over a decade later, the sport stands at a crossroads — should it open the door for Lee’s return, or are some stains too deep to cleanse?
One of the loudest voices advocating for Lee’s second chance is none other than Ronnie O’Sullivan, arguably the greatest snooker player of all time. O’Sullivan, a man known for both his genius on the table and his candour off it, has called on the snooker world to consider forgiveness. In recent interviews, he’s suggested that Lee — having served a significant portion of his punishment — deserves the opportunity to redeem himself and perhaps contribute positively to the sport that once cast him out.
“People make mistakes,” O’Sullivan said. “Twelve years is a long time. If he’s done his time and wants to come back in some way — coaching, commentary, maybe even playing — I think we should give him that chance.”
For many fans and players, O’Sullivan’s endorsement carries considerable weight. His own career has been a rollercoaster of personal struggles, suspensions, and triumphs. If anyone understands the power of redemption in sport, it’s him. But not everyone in the snooker world is ready to embrace Lee again.
The original verdict from the World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association (WPBSA) found Lee guilty of fixing the outcomes of seven matches between 2008 and 2009. The sentence handed down was among the most severe in the sport’s history, designed not just to punish, but to set an example. At the time, the sport was fighting to distance itself from any association with gambling and corruption — a battle that continues today.
Critics argue that reintroducing Lee to the snooker fold, even in a non-playing capacity, could undermine the hard-won integrity of the game. “Forgiveness is one thing,” said a current professional who preferred to remain anonymous, “but this sport relies on trust. If the public and players start questioning results again, the whole foundation of snooker begins to crack.”
However, times have changed, and so has the culture around punishment and rehabilitation. Across sports, there is a growing emphasis on second chances — particularly when individuals show genuine remorse and seek to make amends. If Lee were to take an active role in educating young players about the dangers of gambling and corruption, his story could serve as a cautionary tale rather than a black mark.
Moreover, it’s worth noting that Lee has always maintained a complicated stance on his guilt. While the tribunal found him guilty based on overwhelming evidence, he has publicly denied wrongdoing. If he is to be reintegrated into the sport, many believe it must come with transparency — a full acknowledgment of past mistakes and a commitment to integrity moving forward.
The decision ultimately rests with the governing bodies of snooker. But with Lee’s ban set to expire in 2024, the conversation is already picking up momentum. Will he be welcomed back, perhaps at first as a coach or mentor, or will the doors remain shut?
What’s clear is that Steven Lee’s story isn’t over. Whether he becomes a symbol of redemption or a reminder of past misdeeds will depend not only on his own actions, but on the willingness of the snooker community to forgive — and to believe that people, even those who once betrayed the game, can change.
In the words of Ronnie O’Sullivan: “We’ve all fallen down. It’s about how you get back up.”
