Thursday, 18 December 2014

Darts.

Hmmmm. I really don't know what to make of darts......well, I do, I just don't want to tell you. I'm going to tell you though. You know that, don't you. I don't care if I come across a snob....it's not stopped me before and I sure as heck-fire ain't gonna stop now. I will never......ever......say "sure as heck-fire again", I promise. If I was my dad, I'd disown myself, just for that. Fucking hell, I'm so sorry.



So yeah, darts. I watched some earlier. I sat down after a long days job searching......which involved a lot of sitting down in the first place, IT WAS A FIGURE OF SPEECH! Employment nazi's! Apologies for my sensitive state of mind, I've taken a lot of flak lately from my fellow Dilfs.....it's a Cardiff thing....basically a bunch of working class mongs, collectively bullying someone they know to be better than they'll ever be. What a surreal paradigm I find myself within.

Riiiiight! So I'm fully aware that all sports have; and always will, be covered in the same way. Football matches are generally viewed side on (although I'd like a Sensible Soccer style, birds-eye view occasionally), cricket is seen from the perspective of the bowlers run-up.....Bowls is...well, bowls. My point is, nothing in darts has changed, except for the fact that it's worse. It's worse in that the smoking has been banned. With the ban, the smoke has dissipated.....with that, we can now see the horrors that are, the gurning lower working classes.

Now, before you have a go, I consider myself born working class. It's just that I've transcended myself to rise above all that stuff.....primarily because it's enjoyable to poke fun at idiots....plus I worked for the Royal Mail for 10 years......10........TEN. Whenever I hear a working class group chant and sing, it propels me back to that environment....it's ruined it for me.

Darts in the 80's were the glory years.....apparently, alongside snooker....pub games were spawning household names. Snooker had Davis, darts had Bristow. As a 5 year old, receiving a set of Eric Bristow endorsed darts was a christmas morning highlight, even though I didn't play....it didn't matter, he was one of my heroes. Why though? Because he won? Maybe. Because he was cocky? Perhaps. Because he was a personality? Definitely!

So that brings me to my point. Darts, is now, according to tonights commentators, "getting bigger and better than ever before". But how? Because the players now waddle in, accompanied by loud, inappropriately exciting music and the type of girl that they could only pull armed with a palmful of rohypnol? I'm sorry, but as soon as you resort to those tactics, it's a sure sign that the "sport" itself isn't where it once was. Whenever the camera pans around "Ally Pally", the majority of the audience aren't even paying attention to the action, they're more interested in making themselves look as dickish as possible for the camera and we're led to believe that this is "atmosphere". Please. If a section of the public is ever underneath the ever decreasing hole in the ozone layer before it decides to suck out a portion of the population via a gravity free tractor-beam-like vortex, let it be a darts crowd.

Snooker has made a similar attempt at "modernising" itself, getting the players to walk out to a tune of their choice, after being introduced to the slightly more humble assemblage by a gobby moron committing GBH to the ears in a contrivity generally smeared to an unsuspecting Top Gear "live" audience. The difference between the two sports is, humility. One has it, one doesn't.

The day Barry Hearn employs Katie Price to suck on Ronnie O'Sullivans cue as he makes his "entrance" will be the day I stop watching....the day, coincidentally, the rest of the world, starts watching again. At what stage will porn overtake sport? Will we notice? Will I be watching the darts in 20 years where a 180 will be when someone smashes a girl from behind whilst making double top for the biggest prize in chucking a sharp thing at a round thing.

Please be made aware....this whole blog is born out of bitterness. I want to be good at darts, but I'm crap at darts. Sometimes I tell myself that I suffer from "dart-itis", like Eric. But in reality, I'm just shit.....and with each practice, the shitness just increases. I'm struggling to wrap this one up in a wrappy-up manner.

Fuck you darts!!!!





2 comments:

  1. Shit at darts, shit at life.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Just me....or is that a rule of thumb?!

    ReplyDelete

Go on, tell me what you think.

Another Original Blog meta name="robots" content="index, follow" />