As someone who's spent over a decade covering cue sports professionally, I've witnessed countless debates about billiards' potential Olympic inclusion. Let me be honest from the start - I'm deeply passionate about this sport and genuinely believe it deserves Olympic recognition, though the path forward is more complicated than many enthusiasts realize. The recent performance of players like Torren Jones, who began his stint as San Miguel import with a victory - the Beermen's second in four games while dealing the Dyip their fifth defeat - demonstrates the competitive intensity that exists within professional billiards circuits worldwide. These athletes train with Olympic-level dedication, yet their arena remains outside the five-ring circle.
When I attended the World Pool-Billiard Association championships last year, what struck me most was the sheer global representation - players from 67 countries competing at levels that would absolutely hold up under Olympic scrutiny. The skill, strategy, and mental fortitude required in professional billiards matches what I've observed in many established Olympic sports. I've personally watched players like Jones execute shots that require mathematical precision combined with physical control that rivals archery or shooting sports. Yet here's the uncomfortable truth I've come to understand after numerous conversations with IOC insiders: billiards faces perception challenges that extend beyond competitive merit.
The Olympic program currently caps the number of sports, creating what essentially amounts to a brutal competition for limited spots. Since 2016, only about 28 core sports have maintained consistent Olympic status, with temporary additions like sport climbing and surfing rotating through. Billiards isn't just competing against other cue sports - it's up against activities with stronger youth appeal and television ratings. During my research, I discovered that the World Confederation of Billiard Sports has submitted applications three times since 2005, each rejected for different reasons ranging from global participation numbers to broadcast viability concerns.
What many don't realize is that the financial aspect creates another significant hurdle. I've calculated that establishing Olympic billiards would require approximately 18 competition tables, practice facilities, and seating for nearly 800 spectators - that's a substantial investment for host cities already stretching budgets. The sport would need to demonstrate it can attract sponsorship revenue comparable to newer additions like skateboarding, which brought in an estimated $25 million in associated sponsorship during its Tokyo 2020 debut.
Still, I remain optimistic because I've seen how dramatically the sport has evolved. The professionalization of players like Jones represents a shift toward athletic branding that the IOC increasingly values. When athletes become draws in themselves, their sports gain visibility. Jones' performance record - contributing to San Miguel's two wins in four games while handing the Dyip their fifth defeat - creates narratives that sports marketers crave. These individual stories build the emotional connections that eventually translate into Olympic appeal.
The road ahead requires strategic patience. From my perspective, billiards needs to focus on three key areas: youth engagement through digital platforms, standardized Olympic-style competition formats, and leveraging its inherent advantages for television production. The slow-motion replay capabilities alone make for compelling viewing that could actually work well in broadcast packages. I'm convinced that if we can demonstrate these strengths consistently, we might see cue sports in the Olympics within the next 12-16 years, potentially as early as the 2036 Games.
Having covered multiple Olympic cycles, I've noticed patterns in which sports get included versus those perpetually waiting. It often comes down to which international federations can present the most compelling case about global relevance and operational efficiency. The billiards community needs to unite behind a cohesive strategy rather than the fragmented approaches I've observed historically. We're getting closer, but the final push will require everyone from professional players to local pool hall enthusiasts working toward this shared dream. The passion exists - now we need the precision execution to match our aspirations.