Snooker icon Steve Davis’ unlikely new career and affair with 19-year-old left fans stunned..

Snooker icon Steve Davis’ unlikely new career and affair with 19-year-old left fans stunned..

 

Steve Davis

When Steve Davis stepped away from the green-baize of snooker, few could have predicted the path he would take.

Renowned in his heyday for clinical precision and dubbed by satirical media as “Mr Boring”, the six-time world champion has quietly embarked on a series of unexpected reinventions — and exposed a personal life more colourful than his on-table persona suggested.

From dominance to departure

Davis’s snooker career is the stuff of legend. He turned professional in 1978, and during the 1980s he reigned supreme: six World Championships, 28 ranking titles and a consecutive seven-year stint as world number one. He also made the first televised 147 maximum break in competition, signaling his place among the sport’s elite.

Yet despite the honours and his mastery of the game, Davis’s style and manner earned him a different kind of reputation. His calm, unflappable demeanour and understated interviews saw the satirical show Spitting Image lampoon him with the nickname “Interesting”.

By 2016, after 38 seasons on the professional circuit, Davis announced his retirement. He said the loss of his father and a sense that “the habit was taking over” spurred his decision. Just as one chapter seemed to close, another began — albeit one few would have predicted.

The unlikely new career: electronica, DJ’ing and beyond

Post-snooker, Davis didn’t fade into quiet retirement. Instead, he forged a surprising second act: that of musician, game player, broadcaster and electronic-music enthusiast. His love for progressive rock, synthesizers and analogue gear translated into forming the band The Utopia Strong alongside musician Kavus Torabi and Michael J. York. He began DJing techno sets, playing at festivals, and built a reputation in the music world — far removed from the cue-powered silence of snooker halls.

Davis himself admitted the transformation was unexpected: “You haven’t got a clue. My life seems to have gone in reverse… I started off as a snooker player practising for eight hours a day in a dark room, and I ended up at Glastonbury DJing.”

That shift from serious sporting icon to cult musician-DJ highlights a man unafraid of reinvention. Even Reddit users who encountered him in the music scene noted:

> “He was playing loads of mad Krautrock… The tent was absolutely packed”
“I met and saw him play a set… He’s genuinely decent bloke and has replaced WWE’s The Bushwhackers at the top of my favourite famous people I’ve met list!”

 

Of course, Davis didn’t abandon his roots entirely. He has worked as a snooker commentator, pool player and chess enthusiast — weaving his sport legacy into a multifaceted post-career.

A personal life with twists

Away from the cues and crowds, Davis’s personal life has had its share of drama. He married flight attendant Judy Greig in 1990; together they had two sons, Greg and Jack. The marriage ended in divorce in 2005. Underlying that split was a notable tabloid scandal: in 1995, a British newspaper paid a 19-year-old dancer a six-figure sum to publish allegations that she had had an affair with Davis, then aged 39.

While the details were never fully delineated in court, the episode left his public image dented and undoubtedly contributed to the breakdown of his marriage. For a player whose reputation had been one of unwavering focus and discipline, this public hint of turbulence contrasted sharply with his private demeanour.

Why fans were stunned

There are two principal reasons why Davis’s post-career trajectory took so many by surprise.

1. The mismatch of image vs reality.
To many fans, Steve Davis was the epitome of unflappable precision: silent between shots, supremely efficient, almost robotic in his consistency. The nickname “Mr Boring” stuck — and while unfair at times, it captured public perception. To then see him in neon lights behind a DJ deck, or releasing synth-laden albums, seemed a radical shift from the table. The transformation challenged the static persona that many had long believed.

2. The combining of sporting legend with human complexity.
Life after sport is rarely straightforward for champions — yet the combination of Davis’s affair scandal and musical metamorphosis revealed a more human, unpredictable side. Fans accustomed to the champion cue-man were confronted with an artist, with a private fall-out and a public reboot. The scandal around the 19-year-old dancer might have shocked some, but the bigger surprise was the embrace of an entirely different creative path.

Lessons from a leap into the unknown

Davis’s journey offers several take-aways:

Reinvention is possible at any stage. A star athlete can pivot into music, media or other fields — skills and discipline may transfer in unexpected ways.

Identity isn’t fixed. Public personas are often simplified; the “boring champion” label masked someone with eclectic tastes and ambitions.

Life after elite sport can be messy and multidimensional. Davis’s affair scandal and divorce remind us that success at the top doesn’t shield you from personal turbulence — but it also doesn’t dictate your next chapter.

Passion matters. With his music, Davis pursued what many would call a hobby, but turned it into a new career focus. That suggests fulfilment beyond titles and trophies.

The bottom line

For decades, Steve Davis stood as the archetype of professional snooker excellence — steady, dominant, reserved. His exit from competition might have seemed like the final act. In truth, it was a prelude. The next act has been defined by rhythm, beats and reinvention; by scandal and real-life drama; by a man rediscovering himself in public view.

Today, when we see Davis behind a pair of decks rather than a snooker cue, it’s a reminder: legends don’t always stay in the spotlight in the way we expect. Some rewrite their story entirely — to the surprise of the fans who once knew them just one way.