That was the biggest title of his career, though Virgo was seen by some to have squandered a big chance at the Crucible in 1982.
As it happened, his hopes of winning big in Sheffield were somewhat dashed by some good fortune elsewhere.
A big gambler at the time, Virgo reckoned he won more with a hefty punt on Dawn Johnny and Walter Swinburn winning the Chester Cup than he would have for lifting the World Championship trophy. Considering the Crucible top prize was £25,000, that was some claim.
His mind was abuzz after his pocket-lining trip to the races, and his snooker suffered, with Virgo later suggesting he had bungled a glorious opportunity as he lost 13-8 to Ray Reardon in the second round.
David Taylor, who reached the Crucible semi-finals in 1980, said some years ago: “Virgo is another who could have been a world champion.
“I remember John going to India. He’d won the UK Championship and went out there, and he said to me that he was practising out there and Steve Davis came along and said, ‘I’m playing today, can I have a few hours with you,’ and after two hours Davis said, ‘John, I’m going to practise by myself, I’ve not had a shot yet.’
“John Virgo was that good. He really was special, and people tend to forget it.”
They forget it because of what followed.
Firstly, there was Big Break – the BBC One primetime snooker-themed quiz show that Virgo co-presented with Jim Davidson from 1991 to 2002.
It was a gig that dug Virgo out of a financial mess caused by gambling excesses, at a time when his playing career had petered out, and it made him a star to an even wider audience – his dry wit and mastery of trick shots making him a perfect foil to the popular Davidson.
They were together for more than 200 episodes of what became a Saturday evening light-entertainment staple. It made Virgo a star, and while his face was rarely seen on screen in the decades that followed the end of that show, his voice remained an integral part of the BBC’s coverage of snooker.
He brought old-school charm, expertise and worldliness to the commentary box.
Barely two weeks ago, he was on great form at the Masters. Virgo’s voice came with a sing-song tempo, rising and falling in that familiar brogue. He had the experience of being the man at the table, of knowing what the adrenaline was like when matches were on edge, or when victory was coming into sight. Nobody conveyed that quite as naturally as Virgo.
He was not one for dwelling on statistics, telling the BBC’s Framed podcast in 2024: “I watch a lot of sport and I know everybody wants to know the stats… [but] I feel my job as a commentator is just to tell people what’s happening on the table and try to get into the mind of the player.”
In September 2021, Virgo caused a stir when he told the Talking Snooker podcast he believed he was being pushed into retirement.
As it turned out, he remained a presence in the commentary box until his final weeks.
That could have changed almost a decade ago, when he was famously heard swearing on mid-afternoon BBC coverage at the 2016 World Championship, while a tenacious but pedestrian semi-final between Mark Selby and Marco Fu played out.
Believing he was off microphone, Virgo remarked: “I wanted to watch a bit of racing this afternoon. I’ll be lucky to watch some [expletive] Match of the Day.”
As it happened, the quip was quickly laughed off and forgiven.
That moment captured the essence of the man. He found humour where others might have been tearing out their hair. It was relatable content.
Virgo did pantomime in his time, befriended his childhood hero George Best, and was even the first man to attempt to comfort Steve Davis moments after his famous black-ball final defeat by Dennis Taylor in 1985, poking his nose into the deposed champion’s dressing room to find him in a flood of tears, inconsolable.
So this is the end of the Virgo story – another of the famous names of snooker’s late 20th Century boom years gone.
He is survived by wife Rosie and children Gary and Brook Leah.
Tributes came from far and wide, from snooker circles and the likes of former boxing champion Frank Bruno and musician Rick Wakeman – friends from the celebrity circuit.
They will pour in for days and weeks to come.
For many, the World Championship in April won’t be the same without him.
The Salford sage has left his stage.
Goodnight, JV.
