A night out at the World Darts Championships surrounded by giant Marios, Christmas puddings, Grinches, Greggs sausage rolls and Teletubbies. There is a moment, when I am in the stands at London’s Alexandra Palace, as a soup of horses, jockeys, Marios, Luigis, Christmas puddings, Santas, 118 guys, chickens, Greggs sausage rolls, nuns, Teletubbies, Beatles and at least three lads dressed as David Seaman roils beneath me, that I begin to understand in my bones the phenomenon known as “great darts”.
I am watching a second round World Darts Championships match, and the current number one darts pro in the world, Gerwyn “The Iceman” Price, is competing against the number 50 seed Luke Woodhouse. Price – a Welshman and former rugby player whose picture is there when you look up “brick shithouse” in the dictionary – has not done well so far, and the many English fans who enjoy performatively booing him like a panto villain have now started to chant “EN-GER-LAND”, growing hopeful for their countryman Woodhouse (vibe: guy who spends loads of money on the third shirts of Bundesliga teams because they’ve got a cool font on), as Price struggles to find a rhythm… read more >
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