What is the toughest sport to master? All of them!

The magnificent victory for Shaun Murphy in the Masters Snooker last weekend prompted a range of victory interviews, where one perplexing question emerged.

What is the most difficult of these three sporting milestones to achieve: the 147 in snooker, a nine-darter from the oche, or a hole-in-one on the golf course?

For me (when did ‘for me’ replace ‘I’), there is absolutely no debate on the champion of this iconic triumvirate, but it did stir thoughts on which of the individual sports is the most difficult to master or even reach some semblance of respectability.

In a lifetime of playing, watching, loving, and now reporting on sport, I’ve turned a hand and foot at most. While yet to give kabbadi a whirl, the traditional school sports of football, rugby, cricket, tennis and athletics were all on my junior sporting menu.

We all know that leading trio of football, rugby and cricket require a huge amount of skill, fitness and dedication, but for this particular list, we are focussing on the individual sports, although one could argue cricket has enough individual elements to possibly qualify.

However, for simplicity, we’re going for a top six, starting with the three sports that sparked the internal debate: golf, snooker and darts. Our next three competitors will be swimming, athletics and tennis.

Before going any further, a quick definition of the term ‘master’. To truly ‘master’ any of these sports, one would probably need to at least qualify for Augusta, compete in the Olympics or stride out to Thunderstruck at the Ally Pally.

So, we’re going to replace ‘master’ with ‘sufficiently skilled to not be totally embarrassing’.

The countdown starts at number six in the list, and it has to be swimming. Now, we understand the aqua community may already be popping their water wings in disgust, but swimming is, to its core, a sport of fitness and technique.

There are four key variants to swimming, the front crawl, breaststroke, backstroke and the splash-fest of butterfly. For three of these, mastering the dive is an essential precursor.

Most of us learn to swim at an early age and if you swim semi-regularly through the school years, it should be sufficient to perform at least two of the four disciplines with a degree of minor quality.

We’re not talking Michael Phelps here, just floating with a level of competence.

Taking the number five slot is the sport that makes Christmas! Darts, in my humble, has overtaken football as the festive sport of choice. The Ally Pally atmosphere is just fantastic, and the drama dished out by our burly heroes never fails to disappoint.

Here at Herbert Towers, a dartboard sits proudly in the bedroom of Kid A, and often a 10-minute retreat of relaxation when delaying home chores. Over the years, I’ve managed a few 140s, the 180 remains elusive.

To reach anything close to the imperious brilliance of teenager Luke Littler, it would require years of dedication, a lifetime on the oche, but darts is a sport where you feel a few hours each day should result in a level of competence that would yield pub-based fame.

A nine-darter will never happen within these four walls but the fact one third of this Holy Grail is perfectly realistic works against darts in our list of champions.

Honorary mention for bowls here, another primarily individual sport, and a very difficult game to master but, like darts, my extremely limited experience on the lush greens of Torre Abbey leads me to believe (probably incorrectly) that reaching a standard of bowling decency could be done inside a few years of semi-intense practise.

Back to our list, and athletics sits in fourth, just outside the medal places.

Like swimming, the core element of athletics (running) is a fundamental to all Homo Sapiens. Once we can walk, we run. It is then all about going faster for longer.

Again, like swimming, there are technical nuances that will help the amateur runner speed through the ranks, but it is fundamentally about practise and repetition of a fairly simple art. The only reason athletics is ranked above swimming is the wider skill set within this field.

As well as running, athletics encompasses throwing and jumping. The muscle memory required to ‘master’ the javelin, discus or shot is vastly different to what is needed in the long, high and triple jumps. Many amateur athletes are skilled in two or three disciplines, few have competence across the full range.

Taking the bronze medal is tennis, a wonderful, gladiatorial sport, which, when played to a sufficient level, can spark moments of genuine quality, even on the amateur courts.

Fitness is a key principle in tennis, but the mastery comes from technique and coaching. The serve, top-spin forehand, sliced backhand, volleys and, toughest of all, the top-spin backhand, all warrant years of honing and practise.

Tennis at the top level is a wonderful one v one sport. It is a game that relies on physical and mental prowess, can you overpower or outwit the person on the other side of the net.

As a kid, I had the privilege of living in Berlin for four years and the Europeans had a far better attitude to tennis than here in the UK. Hopefully, those attitudes are changing, but in the 80s and 90s, we were miles behind in terms of facilities and access.

Every small community in Berlin had tennis courts that were open to all, and I’m not talking a pot-holed playground with some faded lines masquerading as a court. The German versions were well-kept clay courts, where a modicum of talent could be developed.

The silver medal goes to golf, a wonderful game that embraces nature, companionship and sheer, utter, mind-bending, therapy-inducing frustration.

To the casual uninterested observer, golf should be fairly simple: pick up a stick and whack a ball but playing golf to a level that makes it enjoyable and not fours of maddening pain requires patience and technique.

Almost all golfers start on the driving range, trying to thwack a driver 300 yards, and in a straight line…it never works!

When you drill down to all aspects of golf, it is a seriously hard game, technically and mentally. Hitting a long, straight drive is vastly different to caressing a long putt to within a makeable distance, striking a seven-iron with the precision of a curving draw is a world away from the delicate touch of chipping from an awkward lie.

And where it gets really hard is doing it on repeat. Why can you hit a perfect drive on one hole and then slice it 50 yards wide on the next hole? Why God, why? I’m using the same club, the same ball, the same arms!!!

A hole-in-one remains elusive and if/when it does happen, luck will play a major role, but the best thing about golf is you can hit one shot in any round that will bring you back for more, one shot that even Tiger and Rory would respect.

But, our winner, by some distance, is snooker!

Of all the sports I’ve tried enough times to qualify for consideration in this list, snooker is ridiculously difficult. Again, the casual observer will understandably question our choice for the gold medal.

It is just a load of coloured balls on a big table that need potting into one of six holes…easy! Unfortunately, snooker hates humans.

In all my years of trying, the highest breaks sits at a miserable 32!

It’s not just potting the ball; it is potting the ball with a level of control to make the next shot as easy as possible. At the amateur level, we think one shot ahead, whereas the top professionals map out their plan four or five shots ahead.

To pot 15 reds and 15 blacks, then all the colours in order requires 36 shots of pure perfection. Yes, you can recover from a poor positional shot, but the 147 is an achievement of precision and complete mastery of spin and pace.

A hole-in-one is generally a fluke, one shot that just works out. The nine-darter is, as it says on the tin, nine perfect darts and virtually impossible for an amateur. The 147 is off the charts difficult and, therefore, wins this argument with ease!