Ronnie O’Sullivan credits a lot of his success to running. His 2014 autobiography was titled as such, and the 42 year-old has repeatedly lauded the effect that this increased cardio exercise has had on his game. Even last week, in the thick of the action at the Players Championship in Llandudno, O’Sullivan posted videos to social media of himself running amidst the cool breeze of the Creuddyn peninsula, addressing his followers through short breath and panting, with moss-laden hills and the shimmering Irish Sea either side of him.

This is O’Sullivan at his most exerted, and it is in sharp contrast to his demeanour around the snooker table. Aside from his daily excursions along north Wales’ coastline last week, O’Sullivan sauntered to a fifth world ranking title of the season, swatting aside Shaun Murphy 10–4 in yesterday’s final. And yet it is not only Ronnie’s consistent success that is impressive — he becomes just the fourth player to win five ranking events in one season — but the sheer ease with which he has accomplished the feat.

O’Sullivan, when in full flow, does not merely walk around a snooker table, he strolls. Head held high, bold in his stride, switching cue from right hand to left effortlessly as the century breaks pile up, moving from shot to shot with swan-like grace. This is a player who, although he won’t admit it, is cock of the walk as far as snooker is concerned. A missed pot is acknowledged with only a slight raise of the eyebrow, because Ronnie knows his sheer superiority means he’ll be back amongst the balls before too long.

Sunday’s final was the culmination of a week of snooker brilliance, in a tournament overflowing with quality. Only the top sixteen players from the one-year ranking list qualify for the Players Championship, and yet O’Sullivan despatched Dott, Ding, Trump and Murphy as if they were rookies. The latter was brushed aside in the final without O’Sullivan even making a century, a rarity for Ronnie in a ranking final, and yet the result never looked in doubt.

However, the preceding semi-final against Trump was perhaps the most significant. Despite Trump largely controlling the match there was always a sense that an O’Sullivan victory was inevitable. This is what breeds the Rocket’s success, the fear he inflicts upon his opponents. There is no margin for error, mistakes will be punished ruthlessly. Trump played superbly against O’Sullivan, and yet his few mistakes were exploited mercilessly. Perfection is required to best a player as naturally gifted as O’Sullivan, but it is rarely achieved in a sport as technically difficult as snooker.

This is a sport that so often hinges on the mental strength of players, the ability to handle setbacks and misfortune during matches, to focus solely on one’s own game rather than their opponent. But O’Sullivan has an aura of intimidation that no other player in the history of the game barring Stephen Hendry could match. Murphy said before the game that he would have to be at his very best and Ronnie below par to win the title, almost ceding the trophy there and then. But Murphy is only saying what all players undoubtedly think when faced with the Rocket.

It was remarked in ITV’s commentary of the final that the only person who can beat O’Sullivan in this form is O’Sullivan himself. And yet, the mental indifference and despondency which plagued his younger playing years shrinks season upon season. At the age of 42, many snooker players would be winding down, but O’Sullivan has seemingly reached new heights over the last six years and by his own admission is currently playing as well as he ever has done, and doing so with little fuss or effort.

Attention turns, as it always does when the snooker calendar reaches early Spring, to Sheffield and next month’s World Championship. O’Sullivan will be the heavy favourite, and the tournament’s long format will be the test of whether or not this really is a new age of Ronnie we are witnessing. If it is, then how much greater will the fear become among the rest of the tour, as this great champion strengthens his grip upon the game in which no one is his equal.

But O’Sullivan will still take to the open roads each day, one foot in front of the other, trainers pitter-patting upon the tarmac, clearing his head of any negativity or doubts, because these are the things which ensnare players of individual sports. And in current form, as long as Ronnie is running, the road of potential success and records seems to stretch out endlessly before him. There are few obstacles in his way.