It’s night like this that make you realise that Darts isn’t just about speed boats, tank tops, non dart player to throw first and a 16 year old with a cholesterol rating of higher than any 3 dart finish - no, it’s about the spirit of the beautiful game - the arrers - man, dart, board and garish ill fitting top - as one, making an entire auditorium of tragically dressed single men, in neon coloured cartoon character outfits, enjoy one night of bliss and the release from self loathing and endless nights of masturbation to the pages of the Freemans catalogue lingerie section…and, as the merry gang of friends drift off into the night, the distant boom of 180, the little Augustus gloops cholesterol count at the weigh in, echoes out in their heads and lives long in the ‘what a night that was we had in the Ally Pally eh Bri’ memory. and its one final debate on the Winmau Dart versus the new Dutch Felchlip Dart, and its back to work for the lads at the Basingstoke national tyres garage, in the morning….. One hundred and fucking eighty!
