2011 - One Day At A Time!: Day 106 - Saturday, April 16th, 2011

The trusty bugler was on hand at 5.10am to sound the traditional early reveille that signals the start of another darting odyssey. Al The Almera allows 5 miles to be added to his 63,000+ clock, the QuickPark shuttle bus whisks me to the aerodrome, security is successsfully negotiated and its onto the Ryanair cattle truck for multiple of their reminders that we are all numbers and not people. In yet another sign of how this country is utterly banjaxed economically, and miserably poverty-stricken, the cattle-truck to Leeds/Bradford was filled to capacity with people, all of whom were quite clearly emigrating, with half of them doing so whilst wearing Leeds United replica shirts. It was enough to instantly turn me into a balladeer, to pen a dirge of intensive drawn-out lament. The Buffoon Count on the cattle-truck was quite low, with just a few semi-buffoons aboard who failed to mask their petrification of flying by laughing at nothing every 9 seconds, but their fear was ill-advised as they and the rest of the livestock survived with ease to tell further tales.

Onwards via omnibus to Leeds train station, and from there with speed to Barnsley and its Metronome, meaning that I had arrived there over 2 hours' early, which is even considered early by English standards. It allowed time for chatterings with players, officials and markers alike, all in splendid spirits. Lunch consisted of a Superfood Salad from Boots, containing as it did all super-foods known to man (lentils, cranberries, peppers, rocket, couscous) and jolly tasty it was, although I did fear being asked to leave the premises because the meal contained no gravy, stuffing or fat.

Cue Baron Thomas de Cox, who decrees that I am to be Marker-General for Board 8 and it's off we jolly well go!

Preliminary Round

Dyson Parody     6      Paul Schofield     5

Decent darts in this one, where Paul went 4-1 up, then 5-4 behind, then drew level, then lost, then joined the small but exclusive Club Non-Hand-Shakers. It's fine Paul, I'll mark the game that you would have been marking if I wasn't here, no worries!

Round 1 (Round of 128)

Steve Farmer         6     Jon Archer         2

Steve won this easily without playing particularly well, as Jon, who seems very unhappy with his game currently, did not throw well at all.

Mervyn King        6     Dylan Duo         2

Time for pantomine baddie Merv to arrive on oche, and while he certainly wouldn't be one for amicable chat, he commited no war-crimes and was in imperious scoring form against Dylan, who put in a decent scoring performance. Mervyn is without doubt the quickest person to arrive at the oche before games - he is literally standing ready to throw when the players from the previous game are walking away from the board after shaking hands.

Mark Walsh         6     Ian Jopling     4

The last two occasions that I marked Mark, he went on to win the tournament each time, but I wasn't betting on a hat-trick after this match, where the scoring was on the low side. Ian had chances to win, had the rub of the wire gone more favourably.

Andy Jenkins        6      Dyson Parody    5

Andy was in great form and was telling me how much he enjoyed a recent exhibition in County Kerry with Colin Lloyd, and he invited me down there to a darts charity marathon taking place in August. Kerry? Darts? Pub? Yes please! Back to the match, and it was a cracking one, with both players in excellent form scoring a couple of 3-figure check-outs each. Andy gave me a bear-hug after the match, signalling delight with some return to form.

Round 2 (Last 64)

Mervyn King         6        Steve Farmer      0

Mervyn's upped his average even further in this match, to white-wash an off-form Steve. "Thanks for the lesson, Merv," said Steve afterwards, and he actually meant it.

Andy Jenkins        6        Mark Walsh         4

There was cracking banter between these two at the oche, which ws good to see. They must have been regular room-mates because Andy referred to Walshy as "my good snoring friend". The darting encounter was a tight one with Andy getting a crucial early break to seal an important win. "Jenks is back!", he shouted with delight afterwards, after delivering more bear-hugs.

Round 3 (Last 32)

Mervyn King         6         Andy Jenkins       3

Both players maintained their averages from the previous games, and tht meant a relatively comfortable win for Mervyn, although Andy was cleary pleased with his day's work.

Round 4 (Last 16)

Mervyn King          6        Terry Temple       3

PDC official and referee-par-excellence Paul Hinks asked me to mark this game which was on another board and when I arrived, both players were there. I noticed that a previous marker had flung 3 marker-pens on the ground to the left of the oche and was heading to pick them up whe Mervyn cme up and asked me (perfectly nicely though) if I could pick them up. "At once, Your Highness," I didn't say. I was a little surprised to see Terry in the last 16 but the reason why became evident very quickly when he went 3-0 up with phenomenal scoring. He had 8 darts to win the 4th leg but when he didn't, his form collapsed, and Mervyn won six in a row to take the match.

Quarter Final

Gary Anderson      6       Mervyn King       3

I believe this to be the best match that I have marked to date, in terms of quality, and that's saying something. It was played at a furious pace and the scoring from both players was huge, particularly Gary, who is just about the best player in the world currently. Relations between the two players were very warm indeed, and they were mutually appreciative of each other before during and after the game. I came off the board afterwards, buzzing and thinking to myself, "This is why I do this" and had a moment during the game where it dawned on me, "I'm marking a match between Gary Anderson and Mervyn King - how awesome is this?"

Time for a few Carling brews, priced at £2.80 (€3.25) and served by the bar-girl who constantly seems to be whacked out on space-drugs, uttering overly-pitched inanities which also make clear that she despises her job. But I digress! Again! Time for more chatter, with young Irish starlet Ryan Maher and his dad as the wait the two hours or so for the Youth Tournament to get going which doesn't commence until after the main final, even though 12 boards are free for 90 minutes beforehand, and the youths must register over two hours before kick-off. Anyway, he's in great form, despite local parochial idiots back at home decreeing that he can't play for his pub team anymore because he is part of the PDC. Cretins.

I and a hundred others crowd around the barriers to watch the final between Gary Anderson and Phil Taylor, and it's an epic, with Gary winning 6-4. Myself and Kirk bump into him as we leave the Metrodome and he tells us that the £6,000 winnings will be going on a deposit on a Jaguar - nice! Chizzy Rascal very kindly gives room-mate Kirkulator and I a lift to the luxuriant 7-star Travelodge on the Doncaster Road, supreme value at £14.50 each per night.

A quick change and it's off to the local Black Bull for a pint and the last half-hour of the FA Cup Semi-Final between Man United and Man City, which City win 1-0. It's another unsavoury element of a bad day for United fan and Mr. Non-Shakey-Hands man Paul Schofield, who is there watching it. We have a chat and he is clearly down at not getting the rub of the wire or of the draws these days.

With the match over, time to nip over to the Golden Arches for a Chicken Legend meal, then back to the Black Bull for more ales. We join Steve Farmer and his lovely fiancee at their table, and gentleman as ever, Steve buys me a pint for marking his games earlier. (I later reciprocate, with one for his missus, to say thanks for being thankful)

It's karaoke night and after an hour or so, I'm up singing Unchained Melody, and whilst Kirk is up delivering an incredibly stylish rendition of the Vengaboys' "Boom Boom Boom Boom", our fellow markers Daz, Scott and Stu arrive, agog at the aural and visual spectacle before them. Daz and Scott join in the karaoke fun with epic renditions of Superstitious (Daz) and Livin La Vida Loca (Scott). There's also time for me to murder Bohemian Rhapsody, Molly Malone and The Irish Rover before closing bell.

In walks Iberian dart sensations Dylan Duo and Antonio Alcinas, who are keen to party, and desperate as I am for them to have their heartfelt wishes come true, Kirk and I reluctantly (snigger) agree to accompany them into town. A taxi is summonsed, I command it to make a beeline for Escapade and with some chatter to the manager at the door, we're given wristbands for the VIP area and the bar-staff are accosted at haste for kalimochus and Jagerbombs. The craic is on and at the dancefloors though, where a further intoxicating cocktail of lovely ladies and banging choons prevail. I bump into Ricky Evans who is busy celebrating his victory in the Youth Tournament earlier tonight. I congratulate him and tell him he can easily push on to even greater tings, as I have marked him a couple of times and had previously remarked how good a player he is. At 3.30am it's time to retire back to the Travelodge, to prepare thoroughly for another day of markage......