Snooker glory after tragedy: Why Robert Milkins deserves to stand tall after Welsh Open triumph

When Robert Milkins arrived at the Gibraltar Open 11 months ago he was at an all-time low, his main ambition was simply to win a couple of matches to pay the mortgage.

Milkins, a professional since 1995, had won three matches all season. He had earned just £13,250 during the campaign and knew he would likely have to give most of that back to the disciplinary committee after having spent his 46th birthday getting his stomach pumped following a drunken night at the Turkish Masters.

It seemed that on and off the table, Milkins was in a bad place. Yet from somewhere, he summoned up a run to the Gibraltar final and landed the title, his first as a pro. He has never looked back.

But you get the feeling that this unprecedented windfall will not change The Milkman. As down-to-earth a character as you can get, he represents authenticity in a sporting world obsessed with image.

He’s a normal guy, a father of three who likes a beer, a bet and a good time. He’s relatable, likeable and endearingly honest in interviews. He never talks himself up, and neither does he deny his own failings.

Chasing the cash bonanza at the weekend, he took on a kind of cult hero status. People were willing him on to achieve his dream, recognising that in sport, the apparently ordinary are capable of the extraordinary.

Milkins first discovered cue sports when taken to a local pub by his dad. There was a children’s play area with a pool table and he found instant enjoyment. At a social club tied to his mother’s workplace, there were two full-sized snooker tables. His natural ability was apparent from early on, but he was also prepared to put the hours in.

In Gloucester, he was offered free practice time at a snooker club if he helped out brushing and ironing the tables. He grasped the opportunity with both hands, and by 19, had turned professional.

Real-life trauma was to intrude before he had the chance to break off. His mum passed away from cancer on the eve of his first match on tour. He found snooker to be a refuge away from the sad events at home and won plenty of early matches, but when the grief hit him, it had a profound effect. His solace as a young man came through drink and he fell off the tour.

Once restored to professional status, he became renowned on the circuit as a dangerous and talented player capable of great things, but a smattering of semi-finals was all he had to show for his efforts.

More tragedy struck with the death of his dad, coupled with a divorce which led to another spiral. He was helped by two close friends who took him in and got him straight, and by Paul Mount, who managed him and gave him access to perfect practice facilities at his snooker academy.

Things did get better. Milkins got himself into the top 16 a decade ago. He pulled off two Crucible victories over Neil Robertson. But still, trophies eluded him.

In late 2021, his sister passed away. It was another devastating blow. What happened in Turkey caused Milkins to take a look at himself. He was apologetic and embarrassed, and he undertook sessions with a counsellor to make sense of it all.

Since winning in Gibraltar, he has maintained a high level of consistency this season. He got to within a frame of reaching the German Masters final last month and came to north Wales match sharp and feeling good about his game.

Even so, against Shaun Murphy in the final, he had to deal with the external pressure of the enormous jackpot he could land by winning the title. It was a close match, containing some high-quality potting and several errors too. It seemed in the end that Milkins won it by managing to play the same game he always has: instinctive, without too much prevarication, just going for his shots. He is a brave player, taking balls on, and trying to make things happen.

And, boy, have they happened. The outpouring of congratulations from his fellow players was genuine. They have been with him through his ups and downs and recognise the qualities of a pure snooker man without heirs or graces.

Sport is tough. Failures and misdeeds are public. People are very quick to judge. But it also offers a redemptive opportunity to put right what has gone wrong in the past.

Milkins has done that and then some. His entire career has turned around and his personal status has been transformed.

Money will not undo the sadness which has marked his long journey through the ranks, but his success is a reward for the way he has stuck with snooker through thick and often very thin. In his thoughts are surely those who have helped him, those who are no longer here.

Don’t let his famous strut around the table fool you. Robert Milkins is a modest man.

But right now, he deserves to stand tall. The Milkman has delivered in a big way.

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