Darts, Lets get to the point.

I used to watch Darts as a child, not out of choice you understand but because my mother LOVED it and she decided what was on the TV (Note to the young, we never used to have dedicated childrens channels, childrens TV used to be from 3 until 5.35 when Neighbours came on. Suck it up kiddies next time you are bitching there is nothing to watch)

I remember the players of yesteryear fighting it out to be crowned king, the haze of cigarette smoke around them as they transferred their fag to their other hand to play and took a gulp of beer before they went up to play (Aaaah them were the days)

Last week it was the Championship and somehow I managed to get myself sucked back in of a night watching the extended highlights.

and some certain things struck me.


Firstly the nicknames.

Meet Scotty "2 Hotty" Waites

Now I don't know about you but I feel slightly cheated (and tempted to sue under the Trades Description Act) I'm sure he is a lovely man but 2 Hotty? Shakes head, that would be a sorry walk of shame wouldn't it?

Want a couple more who really shouldn't be embroidering these nicknames on the back of their satin shirts? (or wearing satin shirts for that matter)


Meet Brian Woods AKA "Pecker"

Actually lets not.

Stephen "The Bullet" Bunting

The bitch in me wanted to know if he is the bullet, exactly how BIG is this gun!!!!!

These players are treated like gods, They have intro music, Andy Fordham walked on to "I'm too Sexy" by Right said Fred (I LOVE that) Stephen Bunting walks on to "Lets Get ready to rumble" (I am reassured that it wasn't the Ant & Dec version) Some of them have SERIOUSLY cool music, Raymond Van Barneveld walks on to "Eye of the Tiger" and Ted "The Count" Hankeys music is "Be on your way" (ok, not cool but it fits)


They have groupies too, I watched grown men dressed as Dracula supporting Ted "The Count" Hankey!!!
I was in shock. Woman crowded as these men walked past just to touch the hand of their hero. (It was the equivalent of teenage girls at a Bieber concert!!!)

These men are not gods, quite frankly they are middle-aged, overweight men who look as though they practice their craft in their local pub.

And you know what?

I loved it.

Anyone else out there a secret Darts fan? I'll see you next time at Frimley Green.


Big Fashionista x x