There is nothing more delightful than waking to a 5.10am bugler's reveille after enjoying over 3 hours of quality sleep, so I mark the occasion by cheerily bellowing a Gilbert & Sullivan aria before skipping with unbridled glee towards Al The Almera, who transports me to QuickPark, to which I should now have a season ticket. Speaking of season tickets, I'm now aboard a Ryanair flight to Manchester, heaving with Irish English soccer fans, who are commencing their enjoyment of a traditional weekend trip eastwards to follow their favourite team. Once again, I pull out several clumps of my emblondenized hair with angst, and I emit with a piercing scream : "When will this accursed recession ever end?", slightly startling those within a four-row radius.
Every three minutes, the tannoy is punctuated with high-volume mangled English, exhorting the cattle aboard to purchase smokeless cigarettes, Irish Independent newspapers and charity (snigger) scratch-cards but naturally such exhortations go unanimously unheeded. And huzzah!, there goes the dehumanizing punctuality bugle, and we've arrived at the Manchester Aerodrome where it is NOT raining!
Onwards to the rail station where a Northern Train jalopy straight out of the 1970s arrives to trundle us to Wigwam, emitting a piercing iron-scraping cacophony all along the way, which is an utter delight to the aural senses. In dire need of soothing sustainance, I make a bee-line to the BhS Cafe, and its wondrous 99p 5-item breakfast manna. I ponder upon the options with the gravitas that the task deserves, and eventually announce the winners to be (in no particular order) : Scrambled Egg, Beans, Hash Brown, Sausage and Mushrooms. Washed down with a large Americano that provides much-needed sensory perculation, I am now ready to walk the mile or so in the glorous sunshine to Robin Park Tennis Centre, salubrious home to the Professional Darts Corporation's final UK Open Qualifier events.
Even the British cannot accuse me of tardiness on this occasion, as I have arrived over 80 minutes ahead of the start of proceedings, affording time for chatter aplenty with players, officials, supporters and markers, making the time pass magically by, meaning that Baron Thomas Cox is now inviting me to make my way to Board 4 to commence officiation duties.
Round 1 (Last 128)
Colin Osbourne 6 Andy Pearson 2
Andy didn't get going in this one at all, so Colin won this comfortably without setting the world alight with scoring.
Alan Tabern 6 Dave Ladley 1
Dave Ladley is an absolute gentlemen, once again shaking my hand before the match and expressing his huge appreciation for what the markers do. Alas such thoughtfulness goes unrewarded, despite throwing very decent darts, as Alan is in sublime scoring (and devastating finishing) form.
Andy Jenkins 6 Stephen Hardy 4
Andy went 4-1 up in this before Stephen brought it back to 4-4, then Stephen missed darts to make it 5-5 and Andy capitalised for the win.
Louis Blundell 6 Dylan Duo 2
Dylan seems to lose patience very quickly when he goes slightly behind, allowing Louis to win this one easily in the end.
Second Round (Last 64)
Alan Tabern 6 Colin Osbourne 2
Colin gave no sign that he would advance to the final tomorrow as he lost very tamely to Alan who continued his excellent form, hitting an 11-darter and a 12-darter during his win.
Andy Jenkins 6 Louis Blundell 0
Louis couldn't hit a double to finish during the first two legs, then got utterly despondent and it affected his scoring, allowing Andy to white-wash him. Louis came up to me later and shook my hand again to say thanks for marking, as scoring another game was the last thing that he would have wanted to do after suffering a white-wash.
Third Round (Last 32)
Alan Tabern 6 Andy Jenkins 4
There was fantastic sledging between these two before the game, with Andy deliberately misunderstanding Alan's suggestion of how many practice darts they each had left, adding or subtracting 3 from the actual number each time. Cue much jovial swearing and fake threats to report each other's verbal slurs to Baron Thomas Cox. I'm not sure I have laughed as much board-side. And the game was a cracker too! Alan went ahead, Andy then surprised with a comeback to 4-4, and in a reversal of fortune he missed a dart to square it at 5-5.
Quarter Finals
Wayne Jones 6 Vincent van der Voort 3
Final game of the day for me to mark was this encounter, where Vincent visibly tired towards the end, and his darts drooped accordingly, giving Wayne, who was in fine scoring form, the win.
Time for a couple of £3 lagers to enjoy the semis and the final, where Gary Anderson upset the formbook somewhat to beat Phil Taylor 6-2 and take the title and £6,000, which will obviously make a nice downpayment on the Jaguar that he bought with a £6,000 deposit from his last win!
Lee then drove myself, Krispy and Kirk the short distance to our lodgings for the night - the Keepers Arms, a pub with four bedrooms handily situated on the floor above. Kirk was shockingly ungrateful for the lift, mainly because his clothing had acquired much of the hair of Lee's molting dog that had deposited itself on the back seat. The pub had no less than three dartboards, so it was straight to the oche for some athletic action of our own, bolstered by a series of delightful £2.10 (€2.35) pints of Carlsberg. We played winner stays on at our board, and without exaggerating, the Kirkulator won at least 30 legs in a row against the various challengers. Finally, with sufficient athletic fuel aboard, I managed to beat him and stay there for a few more games before he came back and won again.
Renowned darts athlete Stephen Maish MBE, who had arranged our lodgings, then arrived with his lovely lady and an entourage including Youths Player Steve Haggerty, who is most definitely one to watch for the very near future. I suggested that we play "5 Lives", and 12 athletes agreed to throw in a £2 entry fee and try their luck. The idea of the game is that the players are drawn in random order and have to beat the previous person's score, or else they lose a life. And "You don't get anything for the same - NOT IN THIS GAME!", was uttered in the style of Bruce Forsyth many times, prompting added mirth. The games were hugely enjoyable as they pitted professionals such as the Steves and Kirk, against rubbish throwers such as Krispy and myself. A word for sole female particpant Shell who scored much higher than her less-better half Adie, though was unlucky in the random draws that positioned her after one of the pros. Congrats to the winners Steve H and Paul - the £24 jackpots will help pay for their next Youth Tour entries!
'Twas 12.30am now, and high time to commandeer a taxi into town to enjoy Wigwam's bustling nightlife. First up was a pub called Last Orders (I think), then 80s novelty club Reflex which was full of people dancing with Kate and Wills masks on, then Jumping Jacks, then possibly somewhere else. Shortly after 3am, it was time to retire to a traditional Wigwam chippy for some chips n mushy peas which I have no hesitation in saying were outstandingly delicious, and a "Meat" pie which wasn't.
A selection of the "5 Lives" athletes at The Keepers Arms
Contentment : 17 / 25
Excitement : 4 / 10
Memorability : 4.5 / 15
Overall Score : 51% (13th out of 120)
