I write, I admit, after a good few ciders, lagers and glasses of red wine, so forgive me for any grammar lapses in this blog. Anyway tonight, in the absence of anything else I want to watch on telly, I find myself turning to Sky Sports Mix HD where I can view the PDC World Matchplay Darts, live from Blackpool. I have, for many years, been a minor fan of the tungsten titans, although not quite fan enough to go to a game in person. Something happened tonight: I tuned in and turned off. It wasn’t the same anymore.
Darts has only ever had one superstar, Phil ‘the Power’ Taylor. Put simply, he took the sport (or pub game, depending on which way you regard darts) from being a post Christmas novelty on BBC2 to the home for a thousand stag nights on Sky TV. Taylor won everything, always. By the time he reached his darting dotage, a dozen or more great players had come along, trying to steal his thunder. In his late fifties, Taylor called it a day. From my point of view, the PDC immediately became of peripheral interest.
No one can knock what Barry Hearn has achieved with darts on Sky TV. The Premier League, played out in huge arenas, is sold out every single week, even though hardly anyone can actually see the board and even less people care. Put simply, Hearn has put together an enormous piss up during which some men play darts.
The players enjoy the equivalent of the boxer’s ring walk, the only difference being that no one really gives a toss about Michael van Gerwen, Raymond van Barneveld or numerous other fat blokes, beyond singing along with their walk on music. Without the greatest player in the history of darts, no tournament is worth a shit.
Taylor’s retirement will not empty the arenas any time soon, but it does deprive the sport/game of its biggest star. People will not stop watching darts on telly or at the arenas because it’s a cracking night on the piss. However, I have the feeling that Taylor’s departure will see the end of the rise of darts and it will not grow anymore.
Tonight, I watched part of a game between someone called Michael Smith and someone whose name I forgot as soon as I saw it written on my screen. Sky’s hysterical commentators were unable to persuade me to carry on watching. Instead, I chose to watch nothing. For me, nothing is basically darts without Phil Taylor.
Hearn hasn’t lost his grip, far from it, but there is only so far you can take a pub sport/game in terms of popularity. Luckily, you can still get shit-faced with your mates at the PDC darts and there will always be people whose raison d’être is to get shit-faced. Good for them. Happily for me, I don’t require a TV darts match to get pissed because I can do it in all kinds of ways. Taylor’s old stomping ground just didn’t look the same without the great man and I won’t waste a second more of my time watching this tournament play out.
