'I Wanted to Rip My Shirt Off': Jak Jones Opens Up on Asthma Battle Behind Heavy Selby Defeat
A Crucible Return Turned Nightmare
Twelve months ago, Jak Jones was standing under the lights of the Crucible final, a tournament finalist in the most storied arena in snooker. On Wednesday morning, he was sitting in his chair between frames, struggling to draw a full breath, his head pounding, willing himself to hold it together. The scoreboard told one story — Mark Selby 10, Jak Jones 2 — but the Welshman revealed afterwards that there was a much more painful one unfolding behind the scenes.
Jones, 32 and ranked 19th in the world, has long managed asthma as part of his professional life. It is, in fact, the reason you will never see him wearing a bow tie at the table — the restriction around his collar is simply not something his condition will allow. But what unfolded during his first-round exit against the four-time world champion was, by his own account, among the worst episodes he has experienced during competition.
'When You Can't Breathe, You Can't Be Composed'
Speaking with characteristic candour after the match, Jones did not reach for excuses. He was clear that Selby — a man who treats the Crucible like a second home — would likely have won regardless. But he was equally honest about the toll the morning session took on him physically and mentally. "I felt absolutely shocking this morning, probably one of the worst I've felt in a match," he said. "When you can't breathe, you can't be composed and I feel pressure in my head and get headaches."
That pressure, he explained, can spiral quickly. "It turns into a panic attack because I can't breathe and I want to just rip my shirt off." It is a striking image — one of the most composed arenas in sport, the hush before a crucial shot, and a player silently fighting his own body at the table. Jones trailed 7-2 after the morning session, and while he showed more of himself in the afternoon, Selby required only three further frames to close out the match and advance to the last 16.
The cruel irony of Jones's condition is that the medication designed to manage it can introduce its own problems at the table. "If I take my medication it can make it worse when playing, as it can give me the shakes," he said. He has sought medical advice but has yet to find a workable solution — a situation that leaves him navigating each match with a difficult calculation between managing symptoms and maintaining the stillness his game demands. Tremors are not compatible with potting balls under Crucible pressure.
Selby the Specialist, the Venue the Leveller
None of this diminishes what Selby produced. The Leicester potter, now 41, has always been at his most formidable in Sheffield — four world titles speak for themselves — and he moved through the gears with the efficiency of someone who understands better than almost anyone what it takes to win here. His safety play was meticulous, his scoring clinical when opportunities arrived, and Jones was given precious little room to find his rhythm even when he was feeling well.
Jones acknowledged as much. "Playing someone like Mark, a Crucible specialist, one of the best players ever, you need to settle down early and if you don't, what happened happens." The Welshman also reflected on the psychological weight that misses can carry inside the Theatre of Dreams. "I missed a few easy balls and it turned into a bit of a nightmare. In this venue it can get on top of you. You just want to sneak off out of there but you've got to stay and keep going through it."
A Man Worth Watching Again Next Year
There is something worth remembering here, though. Jones only reached the Crucible at all by coming through qualifying — and he did so in fine form, beating Luca Brecel along the way, pushing through another difficult episode with his asthma to get the job done. He arrived in Sheffield feeling genuinely optimistic, having practised well in the lead-up. "I wasn't nervous or anything coming here," he insisted. The body, unfortunately, had other ideas on the day that mattered most.
For a player who reached a world final just two years ago, the 10-2 scoreline stings. But Jones is a fighter — you do not come from relative obscurity to a Crucible final without being one — and the manner in which he spoke afterwards, without self-pity and without papering over what happened, suggests a man who will be back. He just needs a morning where he can breathe.
