Darts- it's sport but maybe not as we know it.

Darts - it's sport but maybe not as we know it.

It is hard to understand what all the fuss is about. The very definition of sport would appear to be a simple one. Sport is either a collective or individual effort that requires both the highest level of skill and a fair degree of ability without necessarily revealing a natural flair for your chosen field of endeavour. Sometimes sport may rightly or otherwise be accused of taking itself too seriously and when that happens that may not work in its favour.

It is only when sport resorts to the lowest common denominator that some of us have to turn our heads away in revulsion since this is not the way sport should be performed in any arena. Sure sport should be competitive, full of needle, highly charged excitement with just a hint of animosity and resentment but there must come a time when surely sport may lose something in the translation of the term.

Which is where darts provided us with another heated discussion. For years darts has become immensely popular, easily accessible, inexplicably hypnotic and a dream ticket for a captive TV audience. For those of us though who still regard darts as the ultimate pub game which should never be considered as a sport then maybe this is not what you'd like to hear. But then what on earth do I know about darts to pass a qualified argument on its behalf?

For years of course darts has rapidly established itself as one of those extraordinary spectacles which normally take place when the long, dark winter nights set in and nobody else wants to play dominoes or shove ha' penny with you. And yet the doubts and reservations remain because, quite frankly, how a game that only demands a flick of your wrists, the steadiest of nerves and the nimblest of finger actions next to a dart board, can still register as a sport on the tabloid newspaper radar.

Roughly 40 years ago British TV presented darts with its first exposure to the masses with regular appearances on ITV's commercial sports programme World of Sport. Back then darts players became immediately recognisable if only because their alcohol consumption far outstripped their accuracy on a darts oche- which as we all know is that strategic spot where all darts players have to stand.

Every so often the likes of Jocky Wilson, Eric Bristow, Bobby George and, more recently, Phil 'The Power' Taylor would step forward confidently, grinning eagerly with several pints of extra strength beer next to them and hordes of hysterical supporters screaming out with the most powerful thoraxes shouts of encouragement. Then the voices become ridiculously loud and you may find yourself in dire need of a good set of ear muffs.

Every week Britain would be taken across to either Alexander Palace in North London, the Lakeside Leisure Complex, Frimley Green in Essex or maybe Sheffield if the others weren't available. During the 1970s darts enjoyed an almost phenomenal popularity with thousands of fans across Britain packing massive halls to the rafters.

Once the TV cameras had been safely installed in the said darts venue there was no stopping these demons of the tungsten arrow. Darts players were somewhat cruelly and unfairly portrayed as those big, blokes with large stomachs, with an insatiable appetite for lager and cigarettes. Amid those lengthy rows of tables and chairs, those darts maestros with iron clad concentration and an unquenchable thirst would grace TV screens far and wide with their infectious wit and lovely self mockery.

Surely nobody could ever imagine that darts would ever endure to the present day as one of those must watch events that have to be performed. From its earliest origins in the local pub alongside its faithful ally snooker, darts is now a global, big business, excessively sponsored sport that has broken down all barriers of opposition and scepticism with a casual throw of the arrow.

Brighton, one of Britain's most favourite seaside resorts, is this week the host to the Darts- Champions of League Darts which to those who would pour scorn on it may sound faintly ludicrous but others a well deserved and highly regarded sporting fixture. Of course this should in no way be compared to the football equivalent of the Champions League since there are those who consider football and darts as polar opposites.

And here is the point when snobbery value rears its head quite obviously. How can you possibly defend the case of darts as a sport when nobody has broken into sweat, nothing remotely athletic ever happens and not a hint of  physicality seems to manifest itself ? But to millions of darts fans darts is brilliantly compelling, nerve racking, teeth chattering, nail biting and a pleasure to feast your eyes on.

Today for instance a gentleman by the name of Simon Whitlock faced another darts enthusiast named Peter Wright. One seemed to be sporting the bushiest beard since ZZ Top, those 1980s rockers, whose  mustard coloured silk shirt  looked as though it belonged on one of those mechanics who frantically fix cars on the Formula One circuit. Whitlock looked determined, pumped up, totally motivated and desperate to win.

His opponent was one Peter Wright who displayed perhaps the craziest, gaudiest and most outrageous mohican hair style. But Wright thought he'd go the whole hog by dying his mohican an outlandish shade of mauve. Then there was the darts player who couldn't resist the temptation to cut and crimp his hair in the design of half a dart board.

Lest we forget there was still the matter of the current champion to make his first appearance on the oche. His name is Mensur Suljovic who presumably must be fancied to do well yet again. But this is darts and we all know how tense and atmospheric things can get. The announcements will loudly be made above the blur of boozy banter and bonhomie. The glasses will forever be tinkling and clattering, sharp yells punctuating the air and the likes of Dave Chisnall, Rob Cross and Daryl Gurney dominating the proceedings.

Ladies and gentlemen. This is darts. You either love it or loathe it. Of course opinions are divided and for some of us that remains part of its niche market appeal. Or maybe darts has always been great fun to watch. But there is something quite literally intoxicating about the way darts players seem to revel in the big occasion, constantly aware that millions of eyes are watching them and concentrating intently for every single second of every single match.

So it is that we wish our men in silk shirts and easy going temperaments the very best of luck in the Champions League of Darts. Rarely has the numerical combination of 180 become such a familiar sounding British number. Whether still the pub pastime that it may have always been in years gone by or the hugely entertaining game and sport it quite clearly is now, darts is the biggest of money spinners.

During the 1980s British TV once proudly presented a darts based quiz show called Bullseye whose  sole objective it seemed was to send the winners home with a caravan or a speedboat. Invariably those self same victors would come, quite hilariously, from a council estate on the outskirts of London. But darts is lovable, simple, straightforward and logical which, in a sometimes volatile world, must have something going for it. 180 yet again!