Speaking at an occasion attended by some of the biggest names in snooker, Brooke-Leah, the daughter of the late BBC snooker legend John Virgo, recited a poem at his memorial today.

Speaking at an occasion attended by some of the biggest names in snooker, Brooke-Leah, the daughter of the late BBC snooker legend John Virgo, recited a poem at his memorial today.

 

Brooke-Leah stood before a room filled with legends of the game, her voice steady but touched with emotion, as she honored her father in the most fitting way she knew — through words that echoed his spirit. The memorial for John Virgo was not just a gathering of snooker’s greatest names, but a celebration of a life that had brought joy, laughter, and passion to millions.

As she began, a gentle hush fell across the room.

“Where’s the cue ball going,” she read, “we heard him call with a twinkle in his eye as he loved it all…”

The line drew soft smiles from the audience, instantly transporting them back to countless moments where his unmistakable voice had filled living rooms, commentary boxes, and arenas alike. It was more than a catchphrase — it was a reflection of who he was. Curious, animated, and endlessly enthusiastic, John Virgo had a way of making every shot feel like a story, every frame like a piece of theatre.

Brooke-Leah’s poem painted a picture not just of the public figure, but of the man behind the microphone. She spoke of his warmth, his humor, and the quiet kindness that so many had experienced off-camera. She described how he carried the game with pride, yet never lost sight of the joy that first drew him to it. For him, snooker was never just about winning or losing — it was about connection, excitement, and sharing moments that mattered.

In her words, you could see a father who loved deeply. A man who balanced a life in the spotlight with the simple, irreplaceable role of being “Dad.” She spoke of evenings filled with laughter, of stories told and retold, and of a presence that made everything feel a little lighter. Even in the most ordinary moments, he had a way of making life feel special.

Around the room, familiar faces — players, commentators, and friends — listened intently. Many had their own memories: matches played, jokes shared, commentary boxes filled with laughter between frames. For them, John Virgo wasn’t just a colleague or a voice; he was part of the fabric of their lives and of the sport itself.

As Brooke-Leah continued, her voice grew stronger, as though drawing strength from the very memories she was sharing. She spoke of legacy — not in terms of titles or accolades, but in the impact he left on people. The smiles he created, the inspiration he gave, and the unmistakable energy he brought to everything he did.

Her closing lines were simple, yet deeply moving. She reminded everyone that while the voice may no longer echo in the same way, its spirit would never fade. Every time a remarkable shot is played, every time a crowd holds its breath, there will be a trace of him there — in the excitement, in the wonder, in the love of the game.

As she stepped away, the room rose in quiet tribute. It was clear that John Virgo’s story was far from over. Through his daughter’s words, and through the countless lives he touched, his presence would continue — not just remembered, but felt.