Why the clock is ticking on snooker's spiritual home - and the two cash-rich alternatives to the Crucible which might prove irresistible

It's a rabbit warren of dressing rooms, green rooms and rehearsal rooms behind the curtains. And when the snooker moves out, it will stage Sir Scallywag and the Battle for Stinky Bottom.

But this weekend the Crucible in Sheffield extends beyond its honourable role as a provincial theatre to assume its place at a summit of the sporting scene.

Lord's and Wembley, to name but two, may possess longer and deeper significance in the national psyche, but as the spiritual home of a green-baized obsession, abetted by blanket BBC television coverage, there is nowhere remotely to touch it.

Or so we might have thought. That was until Barry Hearn, snooker's godfather, raised the possibility that the World Championship may decamp when its current deal to host the event expires in 2027. 

His ultimatum to Sheffield City Council is this: build a new bigger 'Crucible' nearby with a capacity of between 2,500 and 3,000 people, or we are heading out of town.

Saudi Arabia is talked of as a possible replacement. Such a move would represent the end of a 50-year-old tradition, an era closing, an identity changed.

It would be left to the ghosts of the past to inhabit our imaginations. Of Terry Griffiths winning the original live televised final in 1979. Of Steve Davis claiming the first of his six titles as a callow youth two years later. 

Of an emotional Alex Higgins celebrating his second championship holding his baby boy. Of Jimmy White, alas, perennially missing out on the title.

And, the most glistening memory of all, 1985 and the final black, watched on BBC2 by 18.5million, still the biggest post-midnight audience ever in this country.

This week I bumped into Dennis Taylor, who held his cue aloft after triumphing that night, by the Crucible's stage door – the entrance used by players, officials and media – and he told me he wanted the championship to stay exactly where it is. 

'I've been coming here every year from the very start in 1977 and it means a lot to me,' he said. 'It's magical,' he added, as if speaking for generations of snooker lovers.

If the mid-Eighties summon the most indelible Crucible nostalgia, the hits have kept rolling since, taking in the two best players of all time: Stephen Hendry and Ronnie O'Sullivan, winners of seven world titles each.

And only the other night electric tension still sizzled. It was merely a second round match, but an absorbing one on the best day of the tournament so far.

Into the deciding frame. John Higgins falls 62 points behind Mark Allen. Higgins – rumoured to retire had he lost – steps up to the table and plays like a man possessed. He starts his comeback with an outlandish double. 

'The bravest shot I have ever seen,' Hendry declares. Holding his nerve to trouser the final red as the crescendo approaches, Higgins brings the house down with a scarcely believable clearance of 71. A bit of folklore.

So moved by his play, and the atmosphere that inspired it, 48-year-old Higgins went to his dressing room to cry tears of joy. 

'The venue takes it out of you, but also gives you the most incredible moments,' he reckoned.

The seeds of all this fervour were sown by the late Mike Watterson, businessman, sports promoter, football chairman, commentator and amateur snooker champion. 

I went to see him a few years ago in his Chesterfield bungalow. Only he could have called it (his bungalow that is) 'The Crucible'.

'My wife Carole had been to watch a play a couple of nights before with a friend and said she thought the theatre was absolutely perfect for snooker,' he recounted, his stories trotting out faster than O'Sullivan can pot reds.

Part of the alchemy then and now is the Crucible's geometry. There's just room for two tables with barely an inch to spare, a configuration Watterson measured those many years ago. 

All 980 russet chairs on three sides of the auditorium are stacked within 20 or so yards of the cue butt.

But enough of this elegy. Sport is a rapacious business and the petro-Riyals, among other Middle Eastern currencies, may prove an irresistible alternative. 

Another mooted idea is to rotate the championship – 100 years old in 2027 – on a tour of the world, moving from one burgeoning market to another from year to year. 

There are obvious attractions to the players, the first a being a slice of a bigger financial pie. They also tend to be better looked after abroad. They are put up in grander hotels, and ferried about and feted like princes.

In contrast, O'Sullivan, unquestionably snooker's star name, suggested disgruntledly the other day that fitting showers into the Crucible would be a welcome innovation.

He was grateful for small mercies, though: this year scones are being supplied to the dressing rooms and, after prompting, courtesy cars being laid on. 

'I do feel they could do it up a bit,' said O'Sullivan of the venerable building. 'It would take a good interior designer.'

Hearn feels as acutely as anyone that a transition away from the Crucible would be a profound wrench for a sport he helped expand from smoky halls – including his own in Romford, where he first met 'Davis', as he calls his friend – to a gleaming success story boasting a pot of £2.4m at the current world championship. 

The winner will take £500,000 of it. Forty years ago, the fund was £200,000.

Hearn, 75-year-old founder and president of Matchroom Sport, has said before and says again: 'I don't want it to say on my tombstone: "This is the man who took snooker out of the Crucible." That, he insists, is why he has laid the problem at the council's door.

'It's up to them,' he told Mail Sport. 'If they want us to stay, show us some respect. Back-of-house, fan experience, practice rooms are all well below the required standard. It needs work. They need to build or acquire better premises suitable for a leading world sport.

'While I want to stay in Sheffield, think about this: what if we had the chance to generate four or five times the amount we do here and reward the players accordingly? 

'They would shoot me if I turned it down, no matter what the "traditionalists" might say. It's total hypocrisy to pretend anything else.

'At the moment we sell out for the following year the day after the championship ends, and that lets down thousands of fans from around the world who would like to be there. At Wimbledon they have added extra seats, so why shouldn't we?'

As for the council going along with the new vision? 

Chief executive Kate Josephs issued a non-committal response to Hearn's appeal, though she did acknowledge that 'snooker and Sheffield go hand in hand' – a glimmer of hope, then. 

Indeed, the world championships is said to contribute £3m to the local economy. It is the Steel City's gleaming emblem, but will the cache count in the final reckoning? Talks between Hearn and civic bigwigs are slated for next week.

Snooker's landscape is changing. Two tokens of this. 

The first, a mooted breakaway series aimed at enticing players to play in exhibition matches for a £300,000 annual stipend. It's a mini-version of golf's LIV series, though in this instance funded by the Chinese. 

Participation in the potential rebel ranks may bring about exclusion from the Triple Crown tournaments, yet Englishman Kyren Wilson revealed this week that he is mulling over the offer. He is 32 and a father of two young boys.

The second example of new influences is the Saudi incursion. Two tournaments are newly staged there this year in a global schedule of 25 events that includes Qatar.

O'Sullivan won the first foray into Riyadh, the World Masters in March, which carried a total purse of £2m, the most lavish fund on the calendar after the world championship's bounty itself. 

The Rocket is also paid multi-millions as an ambassador for the kingdom's snooker aspirations over three years. His duties include coaching and development – and, presumably, not over-egging the home of snooker's cause.

Whatever happens, best to get your Crucible tickets fast. The clock is ticking.