Another PDC Players Championship Saturday, another rudely early bugler’s reveille courtesy of the Apple iPhone4, in the melodic form of a continuously ringing doorbell. It’s 6.10am, and time to make a beeline to another Ruinair flight via Al The Almera and a reliable-as-ever QuickPark shuttle bus. Who should I meet at the Gate but young Irish darts starlet William O’Connor? Normally the players travel over the night before an event, but alas his manager had had a blonde moment whilst booking his flight, entering his own name instead of Willo’s, and the change was unable to be effected until after the departure of yesterday’s flight. All this resulted in him arising at 3.30am to drive up from Limerick to catch today’s flight – dedication or what?! All is well with Willo otherwise, and a wedding date has been set in March for he and his officially-impending Missus.
The flight arrived in Gatwick at 8.50am so I waited around with Willo until his sheepish-looking manager came to pick him up at 9.40am. I would normally have been able to avail of a complimentary lift but needed to wait until 10am when the Lost and Found office opened. Once open, I was reunited with my wallet and all of its contents without very much hassle at all – another one of life’s Get Out Of Jail Free Cards used to excellent effect!
Off now to the airport train station for a quick 10 minute sojourn to Crawley and it appears that today is to be a day of pleasing chance encounters, for aboard is darts aficionado Krispy Brown, who is heading to the venue also. Disappointingly, there is no conductor aboard the train, and when I get to Crawley station, the ticket office is temporarily shut, so the kindly/unbovvered young ticket-collector chappie at the gate advises me to sail on through, in a gratis stylie – outstanding success!
A very short trawl through the town takes me to the George Hotel on Crawley High Street which is a splendid establishment indeed with good spacious rooms and a very central location. Via the dual magic of Google Maps and Shank’s Mere, I reach the ultimate destination of the K2 Leisure Complex which is to be the venue for the weekend’s Players Championship action. Displeasingly, I am over 17 minutes’ early for kick-off at midday but it does allow time for tearful reunions with players and fellow markers.
Baron Thomas Cox decrees that I am to officiate at Board 13 and we are underway :
Round 1 (Last 128)
In fact there are a few less than 128 entered today, giving Ronnie Baxter a bye and moving us speedily along to the next game – huzzah!
Paul Rowley 6 Michael Venton 0
This game was highly noteworthy in that it produced the lowest average that I have ever witnessed in a PDC Pro-Tour event, by Michael. I don’t know whether it was an aberration, or nerves, but his average would have been in the region of 45, and that was without really ever getting near a double except in the first leg, where both players struggled to get going. Thereafter, Paul scored decently but was never tested in this encounter. I would be surprised if Michael returned to the tour any time soon, but with practice aplenty anything is possible. A shame too, as he is a darn-nice chappie, introducing himself to me before the start of the match.
John Part 6 Dave Ladley 1
The brevity of the previous match seemed to catch John out, as he came within a whisker of being timed out, earning him a lengthy “Last Chance” warning from PDC Official Steve after the game. At the oche itself, he was in imperious form, scoring heavily and finishing well.
Mark Hylton 6 Steve Hine 4
It was Steve’s turn to narrowly avoid a time-out this time, with the speed of the previous two matches once again a factor. I wonder would it be a good idea to have a small stopwatch/stop-clock on each board, which gets activated as soon as the previous match ends, and gives the next players say, 5 minutes, to get to the oche? Just a thought. This match had a good scoring standard, with Mark scoring particularly highly and might have won by a little more if his finishing was more polished. Steve was in good form too though, ensuring an excellent close contest.
Round 2 (Last 64)
Just 49 minutes have elapsed and we are on to the next round – magnificent speed!
Ronnie Baxter 6 Paul Rowley 3
It seems that Ronnie is organising a personal campaign to streamline the manner in which handshakes take place before the match begins. Most players shake hands before both the bull-off and the start of the match, but Ronnie definitely does not like this, and outlines to each of his opponents during practice, that a solitary hand-shake should take place before the game, not the bull-off. It is interesting to see the reaction of the various players to this seemingly-innocuous but unusual proposal – Paul’s is one of bafflement. In the match itself, Ronnie starts slowly but then increases the scoring pace, giving him a relatively comfortable win against an ever-improving Paul.
John Part 6 Mark Hylton 4
Close one this, with John requiring all of his finishing might to take out a heavy-scoring Mark in what was an excellent match.
Round 3 (Last 32)
Ronnie Baxter 6 John Part 4
Ronnie goes 3 down in this one when the point of one of his darts breaks. John quips that Ronnie will have to play on regardless, with the broken dart – it is very clearly a joke, but Ronnie’s not for laughing. He comes roaring back into the game, prompting John to say, “I liked your other dart better.” He only gets to win one more leg before Ronnie, who seems to be now back in top-notch darting form, takes the match deservedly.
Round 4 (Last 16)
William O’Connor 6 Jamie Caven 3
PDC Steve asks me to mark this one on another non-marked board as a favour to the vanquished Colin Osbourne who apparently will buy me a pint in return (I’ve heard that one before). It’s always a pleasure to mark both Willo and Jamie though, and the standard is the best of the entire day. Willo hits no less than 4 3-figure checkouts which proves to be the difference between him and a very solid Jabba. I am chuffed for Willo as the £1,000 in ranking points has big meaning in terms of qualification for the World Grand Prix in particular, and also that his travel difficulties clearly didn’t affect his play.
Ronnie Baxter 6 Steve Farmer 3
I got the impression that Steve had run a little out of steam at this stage, whilst Ronnie was solid as a rock and was always comfortable in this 6-3 win.
That concluded official duties for the day, so time to sit back, relax and enjoy the remainder of the competition with the aid of good company and a quadrangle of Fosters pints (£3.30 each). Paul Nicholson’s 6-5 semi-final win against Gary Anderson provided compulsive viewing, as did his final win against Adrian Lewis after which he broke down in tears – it was actually fantastic to see how much the win meant to him. I joined in the congratulations after he had a chance to compose himself and asked how his ribs were, as he had played half of the final in visible agony after a stoop down for a darts flight went badly wrong, and he said they were still very sore. Kevin McDine took the opportunity to join the lengthy line of people who think that Paul and I look like each other.
After an enjoyable brisk walk back to the hotel, it’s time for All-You-Can-Eat oriental excellence at the neighbouring Wusandan restaurant, in the company of Grubby, Andy Jenkins, his unspeakably lovely boss-lady Karen, Chizzy Rascal and Essex Mark. £14 gives entitlement to wondrous culinary delights, especially the bottomless trays of crispy shredded duck, noodles, kung-po chicken, seaweed, melon and ice-cream, and the accompanying pints of Carlsberg are competitively priced at £3.50 each. You can see why it’s the Crawley restaurant of choice for so many of the players – at other tables are Gary Anderson, Andy Smith, Colin Osbourne, Jamie Caven to name but 4.
The banter is excellent so we adjoin to a packed Wetherspoons and meet up with Dan “Ozzie” Oyston, Bruce Terrett, Krispy and Lil’ Rich, and also chat with birthday boy Matt Padgett, the gentle 6 foot 5-and-a-half giant Mick Todd, the ever-cheerful Brendan Dolan and the shy retiring Shane O’Connor. Dan is keen as mustard for a game of darts so locally sourced information leads us to The Railway pub. It transpires that the local information is woefully inaccurate, as it does not possess a single dartboard, but we stay on to listen to the band’s choons and try our hands at the quiz machine. My reputation is threatened when £2 of investment yields no fruit, but the 3rd pound is the charm, reaping a £6 reward, with particular thanks to Bruce for some able assistance on 60’s and 70’s Pop Music.
We then get a taxi to the Premier Inn, and when we enter at 11.57pm to be told that the bar shut at midnight and that no more beer would be served, utter verbal fury is unleashed, almost all of it by me, for Hell Hath No Fury Like An Irishman Wrongfully Denied Beer. With the non-employment-loving barmaid utterly desperate to run home and remaining obtuse, I call for the manager, and bid her to turn on Sky News to prove that it is still before the Bewitching Hour. Again she is initially not for turning because of the (expletive-free) tone of our (my) fury, resulting in the snivelling toad Ozzy performing a public St. Peter style disowning of his fellow marker, uttering something along the lines of “I tell you most solemnly, I do not know these people, so can you just get me a beer.” If ever you meet Ozzy, be sure to greet him henceforth with repeated loud utterances of the word “Scab!”. My fury does not relent, and the promise of calling head office in the morning to let them know that Andrea The Manageress and her bar operative refused to increase their profits by turning away good drinking business before closing time does the trick nicely, and instantly the taps are once again flowing with the finest ales.
We sit with John Henderson (provider of my signed 9-darter board) and his Boss-Lady, who treats us to a Whitney Houston medley and I in turn deliver the first two verses of American Pie before the Premier Inn Thought Police arrive to command an end to my haunting melodies. Time to case this excuse of a joint and head to Liquid Nightclub where I think Essex Mark and I were supposed to each pay £8 in but we kept on walking and weren’t stopped – great success! Fear not, Liquid shareholders, for we invested heavily in your drinks merchandise instead, because lady-worrying robotic dancing is highly thirsty work. The DJ played his last choon at 3.30am, which was really 4.30am due to the clocks going forward, so time to amble back to the hotel to catch forty winks.
Contentment : 16 / 25
Excitement : 5.5 / 10
Memorability : 7 / 15
Overall Score : 57% (3rd out of 85)
No comments:
Post a Comment