U.K. Open Qualifiers
Thatâs the glamour of the PDC for ye.
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Lewis 
Ewan MacKenna: âDarts is no longer a sport for booze-fuelled men in smoke-filled rooms, but a game of the peopleâ
Jack McKenna always caught the eye, even though so many never looked past his opponent.
In the shadow of Paul Lim at the 1990 BDO World Championship, he was standing on the shoulder of the first nine-darter in the tournamentâs history, lost to the background of a magic moment with a green shirt too big for his slender frame, and that was badly in need of an iron too.
On the first week of whatâs suddenly become the last decade, traveling to Newbridge to meet him, he was trying to rid himself of a chest infection beside the fire.
Sitting there, to pass the time he started to unpack his mind of its many memories. Having never drank, he recalled clearly how he had the best seat in the house at the maddest of shows going.
He spoke of how, with his team coming back from a match in Dundalk one weekend, and at a time when the drink driving warning on the pub wall would suggest you might have had enough at four, the clutch went on the minibus and they sent one of the players out front to warn oncoming traffic as they pushed it up the road.
Only a bypasser thought they were trying to run him over, called the authorities and GardaĂ intervened nearer to Drogheda.
He recalled how he could beat Jocky Wilson, but only in the mornings when his opponent had the shakes and it was little wonder as heâd witnessed the Scot run up a five grand bill in 10 days at a Toronto hotel, mostly courtesy of his habit of ordering pints of Bacardi.
On another occasion they played an exhibition in Celbridge and, getting into a worse and worse state, Wilson eventually collapsed back off the stage onto some women in the front row.
There was his Ireland team-mate Charlie Byrne whoâd a habit of following his last dart and one night caught a toe on the oche, grabbed the wall to stay upwards and pulled the stage down.
Alan Evans, who had to stop throwing darts at a fan in London that had a board tattooed on his back for fear a bullseye would mean the spine.
And Andy Fordham whoâd be regularly seen carrying a crate of beer to his room in the hours before games to calm down.
We laughed.
Itâs a simple sentiment but how often can you say that about so much of sport today?
This isnât to glamorise how drinking was tied to the game at a time when the Not The Nine OâClock News sketch about Dai âFatBellyâ Gutbucket and Tommy âEvenFatterBellyâ Beltcher touched a nerve.
But itâs to understand where it came from and, what it was fueled by. Itâs also to contrast and highlight the extent of the amazing shift that has taken place since.
By evening in 2010, McKenna said he didnât miss it because he was there for the best of it.
It was the only thing we disagreed on.
For all the giddy stories, those behind such stories couldnât keep on living that way.
Wilson died broke and a recluse in a council house, Evans died younger after kidney problems ruined what should have been the good years, and Fordham was 42 when a doctor told him that 75 per cent of his liver was useless and the other 25 per cent was in particularly bad shape.
It wasnât just that though, for darts had to evolve beyond the smoky backrooms of local halls as there was no way that version could have found a prominent place on the modern map. In doing that though itâs become one of the great successes in this sphere.
Itâs not been easy either for consider how snooker stripped away a character-driven competition and was left with nothing as it failed to evolve and to catch enough imaginations. After itâs halcyon days itâs merely survived whereas the PDC has solely thrived and then thrived some more.
There are those who still ridicule darts and refuse to consider it a sport, who attach jaded old barbs about a boozed-up room cheering on those whose size means they could never be athletes.
Thatâs unfair, as for many consumers, itâs forced itself into a seat at the Christmas table, sitting comfortably alongside a crowded Premier League programme and a sprinkling of interprovincials. That seemed like an impossible position not so long ago.
The key ingredient was so simple though and one missing in so many other arenas.
Itâs fun.
Thereâs only so much you can keep highlighting the ills of big business and human nature that have crept up and crawled over so many other areas.
Itâs an exhausting experience trying to bang the drum over and over around the most obvious wrongs and to try and push for the most basic of rights.
Nikeâs grip on athletics and the pass they continue to get.
Manchester City and their ownersâ real reason for having a team that good.
Dublin continuing to live the lie and pretending money doesnât matter.
Conor McGregor and the life he led as he threw away much in the process.
Itâs all been tainted if not outright ruined.
Indeed perhaps the entire FAI saga perfectly encapsulates a chunk of professional sport for itâs not really about the sport at all.
Instead itâs about Shane Ross and his goose, about John Delaney and his expenses, about Deloitte and their free pass. A game being used as a front for a whole lot of other wants and needs.
But we need a holiday from that for even the most moral of crusaders get tired.
This is where we shack up as it provides the most brilliant of breaks.
An earthy and pure innocence; something thatâs accessible, relatable and real.
In fact, itâs so much more than fans in fancy dress costumed on the lash, for a hefty chunk can recall and identify with the lost voice of Sid Waddell, with Raymond van Barneveld breaking down a door, with Paul Lim nearly doing it again although this time without McKenna behind him, with Michael van Gerwen throwing 17 perfect arrows in succession.
You watch that very last moment and tell us that itâs not sporting brilliance and genius.
This World Championships have been more of the same. From a wave of Irish threatening a breakthrough to Fallon Sherrock showing itâs not the working class game of men, but a game of the people.
And finally weâre left with a dream decider between Van Gerwen and Peter Wright. Snigger all you will, but fewer and fewer are joining in such arrogant snarling.
Thereâs plenty of time across the year to get into the dirt and the grime of sport.
It can wait for a little longer.
Today instead is about what sport should and can be.
All hail Barry Hearn and the pdc. Saved darts.
I suppose it makes complete sense that the mantra of the pdc mob is âHeil Hearnâ
Itâs the EDL at play
Fallon Sherrock about to get her revenge?
No. Bottled it a bit.
Spoke with him a couple of years back and he mentioned he was finding it a bit more difficult working with his Parkinsons. Hopefully it hasnât gotten worse. An absolute gent.
What is the betting a black woman gets the job.
Theyâll give it to Laura Woods
.
Wessellâs time at the oche has come and gone. An ignominious check-out.
An hour in the " Celebrities I never heard of" will be his highlight.
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1 time world champion Raymond Van Barneveld won back his PDC tour card today. Be interesting to see how he gets on.
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Barney beat Joe Cullen tonight to win the players championship. 3 days back in sport.