E is for evenin’ all

After four successful Dart Club events all within easy walking distance of the Finisher and the Bull’s glitzy West End offices, the pair thought it only fair to stage dartweek five a little farther a field. After all not everyone lives or works in London’s pretentious medialand.

However, the pair would not be sacrificing convenience just to keep uncool scratters happy, for the next pub of choice, even though, so far, the furthest away from the plucky duo’s swanky state-of-the-art Fitzrovia Noho workspace was still only 20 mins door to door.

It seems the commie scum tube drivers weren’t so bad after all, maybe they deserve a little extra cash. It can’t be easy keeping that long train on those thin rails, and do it in the dark.

BOOM, BOOM.

The next chosen venue was the Archery Tavern, a splendidly turned out boozer on Bathurst Street, which is dead easy to find, come out of Lancaster Gate tube station (on the Central Line – that’s the red one folks) turn left, follow the road round the corner, cross the six lanes of high speed London rush hour traffic, and it’s just up on the left, it’s got a picture of Robin Hood on the sign, and is opposite a curry house, which is almost certainly called the Taj Mahal.

WARNING: WARNING: WARNING: WARNING WARNING: WARNING: WARNING

Sadly, it would seem that the Archery Tavern closed some time after Dart Club attended. The two incidents are not thought to be related. Although, never discount the power of darts.

From the outside it looks very welcoming with hanging baskets and a few benches, inside you’ll find a respectable boozer with friendly staff (about 30% Australian), serving HB – which on this occasion is not a pencil, but a strong British lager. It is the weakest lager available, the only other being wife beater!! With lager like that, DC5 was bound to be a cracker or dangerous. Or both.

There are a number of real ale type drinks and the usual collection of spirits, but none were sampled. They do food too, but Dart Club was on pork scratchings all night.

The boozer features a sizeable back room, complete with fruity, sky sports, some booths, a hatch through to the main bar, the gents and, of course, a dartboard – complete with picture of the great, although rather agoraphobic, ex-pro Scotch darter Jockey Wilson.

It's probably worth noting that the oche was bloody miles away from the board, as was proved when the Finisher lay on the floor and stretched his arms out, he was nowhere near the regulation 7’9” distance.

Also, whenever one of the pub’s friendly civilians went to take a leak, play was hindered. That said, it was a lovely board and the serving hatch to the main bar more than made up for it.

Also, a point of interest for you equestrian fans out there, and more for those of us who appreciate looking at posh birds in jodhpurs (and who doesn't?), the darts room looks directly out onto some stables.

As had become something of a habit at previous Dart Clubs, the Finisher and the Bull arrived early doors, probably about 17:30ish, the room was empty and the landlord had put up a handy sign telling the locals to fuck off.

The new game to be learned in the Archery Tavern was a darts variant of the classic long tedious car journey game, battleships, the game immortalised by an advert on telly that made it look quite cool, where players had electronic bits and LEDs and stuff and then one of the annoyingly sugar-faced kids wins and dad says “you sunk my battleship”.

But before the early 1980s LED powered battleships was invented, battleships did exist, both as a game and as a big ship thing that killed the Germans – it’s true my granddad told me (on both counts).

Maybe you missed out on the advert, perhaps you weren’t born in the early 1970s, maybe you had slightly bohemian parents so didn’t have a telly, or just Nazi parents that would only let you watch BBC, but surely you must have played this game.

Here is a quick re-cap: Both players have a grid ten by ten (mark across the top of the grid letters a-j and down the side numbers 1-10), in this grid each player must place their fleet (although do not show your opponent where you are placing your ships).

Don't mention the war	I wish they'd invent the PlayStation

The fleet consists of five ships. An aircraft carrier, a battleship, a destroyer, a submarine and something else that no one can remember the name of.

Anyway, the carrier takes up five spaces, the battleship and destroyer four, the sub three and the one that no one can remember the name of two. Each player takes it in turn to call out a grid reference e.g. a1, for anyone without the simplest of maff brains out there, this would be the top leftest corner, j1 being top right, a10 bottom left and yes, yes, you’ve got it. Nice wun.

If the grid reference called out strikes a space containing any part of any of your opponent’s fleet (remember you can’t see where your opponent has put their ships) he should shout “hit”, bet you can’t guess what to shout if it’s a miss?

When a ship is sunk, i.e. all its spaces have been successfully hit, the vanquished admiral must shout out which ship has been sunk. The idea is to completely destroy your opponent’s fleet. Now, as you can probably appreciate, this would take forever on a dartboard, it’d also be very, very complicated and the best darts games, like most things in life (except puzzles) are the simplest.

In the darts version of battleships each player has only three ships, gone are the aircraft carrier and the destroyer. Like the original, the battleship takes four spaces, the sub three and the one no one can remember the name of takes two, players should mark down on a piece of paper which segments are their relevant ships.

Each player takes one dart at a time and goes for the board, if the dart lands in a bed occupied by an opponent’s ship the oppo should shout “hit”, like in the original.

In the one and only game of battleships played that night, the Bull broke with the habit of a lifetime and got closest to bull’s-eye with his marker dart, and then the Finisher failed to break the habit of a lifetime by losing the opening game in quite emphatic fashion.

His fleet, represented by 13,6 (the one no one can remember the name of), 3,16,19,7 (the battleship) and 9,11,8 (the submarine) were sunk before he could even get off the mark.

If the Bull were a famous person from history he would probably be Sir Walter Raleigh. Although, he was more a bowls man apparently.

As the pair played battleships they were joined by a new member to Dart Club, indeed he represented another first, since the Kosh also represented the long arm of the law.

This could go one of two ways. Dart Club are (so far) by and large law abiding types, although you can almost guarantee that they have all broken the law on numerous occasions, probably quite a few during the last week. And it really doesn’t matter whether a copper is off-duty. For most people the merest sight of a rozzer walking down the street brings them out in a cold sweat and makes them look as guilty as sin.

Police officers must go through life thinking everyone has just that minute been up to no good, and just seen them in time. It must be quite galling seeing all those guilty faces and having no grounds upon which to arrest them.

Thankfully, the Kosh seemed like a decent bloke and what’s more he was not wearing a uniform, so no doubt dart clubbers would treat him like a human being.

However, the Finisher had been warned that the Kosh was a copper, so when the Kosh walked in the Finisher looked for all the world as though he’d just mugged the barman and tried to pinch the telly off the wall.

The Kosh, however, was more concerned by the attire of the two darters, the Finisher was wearing a 1960s style Nottingham Forest jersey, while the Bull was decked out in a 2001 Chelsea strip, with the word Pratt across the shoulders, for some inexplicable reason.

“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello, what’s going on ‘ere?” said the Kosh.

The Kosh	Ello, ello, ello

Well he didn’t really, but he might have done for comedy copper purposes. The football jerseys were in honour of Lancaster Gate.

For most people Lancaster Gate means West London nowheresville, there’s a massive hotel and it’s right opposite Kensington Gardens, it’s quite nice, but nothing special. However, for some it will conjure up memories of standing around in playgrounds huddled around a tranny listening to the FA Challenge Cup draw.

They were simpler times back then. When tranny was short for transistor radio. It’s odd though because as times moved on from radio to television, as did the draw for the FA Cup, the expression TV was born, this is surely too much of a coincidence and points the finger fairly and squarely at some sort of cross-dressing media conspiracy.

But in a way, the members of Dart Club would be doing some cross dressing of their own that night, as they each donned a different football jersey for the special Dart Club FA Challenge Cup.

As with the footballing equivalent, the darts competition that night would be an unseeded straight knock-out tournament, with a fresh draw being made before each round.

Dart Club was due to receive 16 darters that night, which would have made for a first round knock-out, a quarter final, a semi- and a grand final. Eight of the usual suspects showed up: the Finisher, the Bull, Danny Boy, the Clinician, the Specialist, the Black Bomber, the Fire and the Bubble.

While six newcomers came: the Kosh, the Wire, the Wrist, Canada’s the Mountie (he always gets his man), the Sting and the Destroyer.

Dart Club mills about awaiting the FA Cup draw

The total number of darters was 14, which necessitated a couple of byes in the opening round of the cup draw, so it looked like this:

Bubble v Black Bomber
Sting v Mountie
Kosh v Wrist
Danny Boy v Specialist
Fire v Finisher
Wire v Clinician
Bye v Destroyer
Bye v Bull

If Match of the Day had choosen to feature one of the games as its main event, it would probably have gone something like this…..

CUE MUSIC (if you have a copy of the sound track of Match of the Day, put it on. If you don’t have a copy, you can get a CD with TV show soundtracks on it, the Specialist has one). Or just sing along to yourself.

Bab-bab-bab, baaab-bab-bab-bab-bab-bab, bab-baaaab-bab-bab-bab-bab etc…etc…

Gary Linekar: “Good evening all and welcome to what promises to be a very special show. With me in the studio adding their usual blend of insightful punditry for tonight’s Match of the Day are Dart Club’s very own the Bull and the Finisher. Good evening.”
The Bull and the Finisher: “Good evening.”

Gary: “Tonight’s main game features two of Dart Club’s leading lights. Danny Boy currently sits in second place according to the Dart Club Ranking System with a staggering 112 points, compared to the Specialist who, with 56 points, is in fifth place. On paper it looks quite straightforward. The Bull, how do you think things will shape up out on the oche at the Archery Tavern?”

Arsenal play in red because Forest lent them a kit once. Where did it all go wrong?

The Bull: “Yeah, the maff says Danny Boy is twice as good as the Specialist. But at this level there is no such thing as a good player. It’s a tough call, I’d expect to see Danny Boy come through in the end, but I would never discount the Specialist, he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the time, and sometimes you need that kind of passion.”
The Finisher: “I hear what you’re saying the Bull. But like Phil ‘the Power from the Potteries’ Taylor says, darts is 90% in your head. On the big stage I really can’t see the Specialist holding it together for long enough to check out. I’d say his best bet is to try and hold out for penalties.”

Gary: “It looks like you two are nearly agreeing on something. Just to play devil’s advocate. I quite fancy the Specialist to take this one. It’s the cup after all and you should never discount the magic of the cup. So without further ado we’ll join John Motson and Trevor Brooking who have oche-side seats at Lancaster Gate’s famous Archery Tavern.”

In the event, like most big-billed over-hyped games, neither player really asserted himself. There was clearly too much at stake. As expected Danny Boy raced into the lead and was within sight of a double top exit after 21 darts, he fluffed it scoring three and leaving himself needing 37.

The Specialist had picked up a pub score along the way, earning himself crucial Dart Club Ranking System points, but he was nowhere near finishing yet. Danny Boy scored a one and left himself requiring double 18. Now the Specialist had started to catch up, indeed while Danny Boy was pissing around scoring four points in six darts, the Specialist had notched a 90 pointer bringing himself down from 107 to 17 in one fell swoop.

However, this still wasn’t a finish. Danny Boy struck out again, hitting the 20, he now required double eight. The Specialist scored nine, leaving double four for the game and the first upset in the cup.

Danny Boy bust out on double eight and the Specialist hit the double four. The underdog had come through. This would do his Dart Club Ranking no harm at all.

The other featured tie of the round, the Bubble v the Black Bomber, was no better in terms of quality, but it lacked no less drama.

The Black Bomber showing his class and expereince raced into an early lead, but when it came down to the wire he simply could not finish. This would be no repeat of his previous high at the Lyric in dartweek three.

In the end the game went to penalties. Which is a variant on nearest to 25/bull

Penalties explained

Player one throw one dart with the intention of hitting 25/bull. If he fails player two attempts the same. If neither player hits 25/bull, the player whose dart is closest to 25/bull earns what ever points his arrow is embedded in. P1 then shoot again, once more if he fails to hit 25/bull P2 gets to throw a dart. Again, if neither hits the 25/bull a note is made of the bed that the player whose dart is closest to 25/bull lies in. A third and final penalty dart is then taken. Again if neither has hit the 25/bull to snatch the victory, then note down who went closest and into which bed their arrow landed. The winner is the person with the highest accumulated score (you only score if you are closer to 25/bull).

After explaining the concept of penalties a few times to the Dart Club masses, both players took to the oche. The Black Bomber was up first (since he had originally been closest to bull at the beginning of the match).

In the end the Black Bomber hit the 25 with his first dart so went through….

In the final few games of Match of Day, where the highlights tend to feature goals and near misses, and maybe the odd sending off, the Finisher beat the Fire, the Clinician beat the Wire, the Mountie (he always gets his man) beat the Sting, and the Wrist beat the Kosh. So The quarter finals looked like this:

Destroyer v Mountie (he always gets his man)
Bull v Finisher
Clinician v Specialist
Wrist v Black Bomber

Should Match of the Day choose to cover the quarter finals it would have to find two new studio guests, because the tie of the round saw the Bull take on the Finisher, a date with destiny that, no doubt, both players would rather have avoided until the final.

In the event this game, like so many crucial games where avoiding the loss is more important than winning, went to penalties, neither player hit a 25/bull with any of their three darts, but the Finisher was consistently more accurate so accumulated enough points to go through the semi final.

The other intriguing tie of the round featured the Clinician and the Specialist. The match was pretty tight but in the end the Specialist could not pull of a repeat performance of his earlier underdog success and it went the way of the Clinician with Phil Taylor’s favourite outshot a double 18.

The Mountie (he always gets his man) needed to take his game with the Destroyer to penalties in order to make the semis, and newcomer the Wrist beat old timer the Black Bomber in another fairly close run match. The draw for the semi-final was made, it looked like this:

Wrist v Mountie (HAGHM)
Clinician v Finisher

The cup final was guaranteed to feature a newcomer and guaranteed to feature an old hand. It’s at this stage in the competition that both matches would get equal coverage on Match of the Day, although the glamour tie was clearly the Clinician v the Finisher. The first match saw the two unknowns take to the oche, the Mountie and the Wrist.

Both new comers were slow out of the blocks, after nine darts neither player had managed to register 100 points. After a whopping 27 darts the Wrist has sealed victory with a double 12 (for the record, the Mountie required double 13, unlucky for some, unlucky for him).

Now Dart Club licked its lips in anticipation of the thought of Dart Club Ranking System’s numbers one v three. Surely the crowd in the Archery Tavern would not be disappointed.

After nine darts (the magic number, the fewest darts a player needs to check out from 501) the Clinician had scored 78, and the Finisher was only marginally better.

After six more darts the Finisher found himself requiring double eight to ensure a place in the final, while the Clinician was still on 145.

But the Finisher’s finish had deserted him, successfully busting out on the next four turns, while the Clinician had slowly but surely caught up taking the game with double four.

So it was, the grand final of the Dart Club FA Challenge Cup looked like this:

Clinician v Wrist

There was a lot at stake, not just the £10 trophy, not just the Dart Club Ranking System points, not just the £24 prize money. There was the pride of two cities at stake. The Clinician supports Notts Forest, while the Wrist supports Derby County. Two footballing backwaters from the East Midlands whose former glories are long behind them, but whose hatred and rivalry for one another is still as strong and pointless as ever.

Quick one off the Wrist

That said, the Clinician v the Wrist was a bit like Liverpool v Wimbledon in the 1982 FA Cup. Both players deserved to be there, but one had heritage and was expected to win, while the other was an unknown entity, and a sheepshagger to boot.

Surely in the Archery Tavern, a pub featuring Robin Hood on its sign, we’d see the Forest man prevail?

In the event it was a completely uninspiring match, that dragged and dragged with neither player managing finish on a double the game went to penalties.

It’s never a great way to settle things, but Dart Club needed to fit in a 501 challenge. So at the first FA Challenge Cup Dart Club virgin the Wirst, took his total to played five, won five. He might not have had the heritage (or indeed the tikka tinged fake tan) of the Clinician, but he was better at getting nearer to the 25/bull.

The Wrist is victorious

Could he win the 501 challenge? No, thank God. That honour went to the one and only Danny Boy, who clearly had a lot to prove after his humbling round one exit. He scooped the £70 and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer darter.

A tikka-tinged Clinician and Danny Boy

So had the evening’s extravagances altered the Dart Club Ranking System table? Well, yes, although not terribly dramatically…. A new dartist broke into tenth place and some of the players near the bottom shuffled about a bit. The Finisher by dint of some sexy merit point darts meanwhile managed to stay in the number one spot, despite losing the novelty game of battleships, getting knocked out of the FA Cup and failing to win the 501 challenge.

1 (1)	Finisher	241 (165)
2 (2)	Danny Boy	145 (112)
3 (3)	Clinician	93(85)
4 (4)	Bull	83(72)
5 (5)	Specialist	72(56)
6 (8)	Black Bomber	47 (29)
7 (6)	Animal	44 (44)
8 (7)	Darkness	43 (43)
9 (10)	Bubble	30 (21)
10 (-)	Wire	26 (-)

The top five are the only five dartists to have attended all the Dart Clubs thus far. While all competitors improved on their totals (the Finisher’s total improved most, largely due to the three 100s and one 120 scored in the Archery Tavern. The Black Bomber jumped two places to number six, leap-frogging the Animal and the Darkness, who sadly could not make it because he was listening to Leonard Cohen records and slitting his wrists.

The Bubble climbed one place, and the Sidewinder (the only dartette to break into the top ten – with 25 points) was ousted by newcomer the Wire, who despite not being as successful as the Wrist in the Dart Club FA Challenge Cup accrued more Ranking System points by getting to the pub earlier and playing more games. (For the record the Wrist is 12th with 20 points.) So far 31 different people have attended Dart Club.

The only attendee at the Archery Tavern who failed to throw a single dart was Bouncer from Neighbours, whose lack of opposable thumbs would probably hold back darts career.

The Fire pets Bouncer (out of Neighbours)

D is for the Dart Club Ranking System©

With Friday the 13th safely out of the way the Bull and the Finisher could relax. But in darts there is no room for complacency. Success in darts, as in life, requires competition. It really is a case of survival of the fittest. Don’t dart what you can’t finish, or so the saying goes.

Dart Club may have survived a Friday the 13th, but Lady Luck is a cruel temptress. The voodoo hoodoo of what actually turned out to be a not-so jinxed night in the Lyric had a hangover waiting in the wings. Like the after shock of an earthquake it hit Dart Club hard. The next chosen boozer, the Duke of York, which is at the bottom of on Rathbone Street, had replaced its dartboard with the evil golf machine video game thing.

A golf machine.

Just look at that small sentence, sitting up there all smug. Does it make you sick? It should.

“….er where’s the dartboard?” asked the Bull.
“We’ve replaced it with a golf machine,” came the response from yet another witless Aussie barman.
“Strewth, yer flammin gallah,” the Bull might have said, were it not for the fact that he could see perfectly well that there was no longer a dartboard and had exited the pub before Bruce Breadthief could pipe up the bleedin’ obvious.

It was like the Red Lion all over again, only worse. Golf video game things have no place in London pubs. Fact.

Walking down Rathbone Place the Bull and the Finisher entered three more public houses without success before finally stumbling across the Bricklayer’s Arms, which sits pretty on Gresse Street (just off Rathbone Place, which is just off Oxford Street – come out of Tottenhamhotspur Court Road tube station, walk towards Oxford Circus and Rathbone Place is second on the right.

The pub itself features some nice benches outside, pub grub, an upstairs bar area and best of all, a little back room with a lovely dartboard. The gents toilet is close to hand, so no need for scrambling down steep steps like in the Lyric, the bar staff are about 50 per cent Australian, but don’t let that spoil your night. The beers are German. And very reasonably priced.

Unlike Richard at the Lyric, the Bricklayer’s Arms landlord wanted more than our word that Dart Club would show up, fill the place and drink solidly. Which was a trifle cheeky considering the Bull and the Finisher’s presence in the bar that day had doubled his attendance figures that lunchtime. Still, the co-chairmen couldn’t take the risk of organising a Dart Club and then finding the oche busy. The Bull placed down 50quid of his own money to book the room for the following Wednesday.

The emailed invites were sent out. The co-chairmen were feeling smug. Complacent even. But as has already been pointed out to you the eagle-eyed reader, there is no place for complacency in darts. Because although Friday the 13th’s hex had replaced a perfectly serviceable dartboard with a golf machine at the Duke of York, it had just one more trick up its evil sleeve. Communism. And nothing is more evil.

The Trotskyite tube drivers announced that they intended to have a day off on strike the Wednesday that Dart Club had just booked the boozer. It was unusual that the Tube workers had called the strike because the weather forecast wasn’t that good.

“Fuck ‘em” said the Finisher, in his inimitable unintimidatable style, “If we have Dart Club, the darters will come.


But on this occasion the Finisher was wrong. Dart Club is not Field of Dreams starring Kevin Costner. It would be ridiculous to expect people to make it to London’s glitzy West End without use of the Tube. DC would have to be moved.

“I don’t like Mondays”, sang a mealy mouthed Bob Geldolf in his youth, well perhaps if he’d played a bit more darts he might cheer up. Monday night’s alright for darts. DC would be brought forward two days.

Thankfully the landlord at the Bricklayer’s is a nice bloke and was happy to swap the booking, a more sinister type would have put two and two together and realised that the only way to ensure any drinkers on Wednesday night would be to insist that the Bull honour his pledge to fill the back room with heavy drinkers all night, leveraging his 50quid deposit.

One word. Naïve. Another word. Nice.

But before the Dart Club chairmen could sit back, relaxed and look forward to another successful Dart Club, more disaster struck. The dim-witted Bull suddenly realised what he was sacrificing for the hastily re-arranged Dart Club – a box seat at the west London derby between Fulham and the MIGHTY BLUES CHELSEA. Sheepishly he had to ring his Fulham supporting uncle and explain that he would have to pass because he was “playing darts”.

Uncle Bull was slightly bemused at first, not quite sure of his nephew’s priorities. But when the full majesty of the Dart Club blueprint was made clear to him, he fully understood the decision and vowed to come along to the next outing. And besides, the game finished nil all in the end. So the Bull didn’t miss anything.

Continuing the American themed darts variant games, the game to be played at the Bricklayer’s Arms was baseball. Now baseball, as your dad would rightly say on this occasion, is just like rounders – the game made famous by girls in the playground shouting “rounder, rounder, rounder” while the stocky tom-boy girl (for she was the only one capable of striking the ball with any sort of conviction) ran around the hopelessly small square-shaped diamond.

As with almost all popular American sports, baseball players get to wear quite cool outfits and have quite cool names, however, there is no getting away from the fact that baseball is a bit soft. Baseball-darts is not soft though, oh no. It is very manly.

As with the real thing, darts baseball consists of nine innings. That’s pretty much where the similarities end, although the dart game does use some of the same vernacular as the bat and ball game.

It is really a two player only game. One player is the batter and one the pitcher (that’s American for bowler). Players choose who is who in the usual closest to bull’s-eye fashion. The pitcher then has three throws to hit the 25/bull – if successful the batter is struck outski, then the roles are reversed. If the pitcher fails to register a 25/bull, he must remove all but the last dart and allow the batter three darts. The batter can score a home run in two ways: With any one of his three darts the batter must hit the 25/bull. Or, rather than hitting the 25/bull, he should hit the last bed that the pitcher landed in (which should be obvious, since the pitcher should have left his final dart in the board).

If the batter has taken the second option, and successfully hits the final bed of the pitcher, he must then hit one, two and three with three darts. NOTE: it ain’t all over for the batter if he fails to hit one, because with his second dart he needs to hit double one, then go for three, if he fails to hit double one he can go for treble one. If the batsman fails to get a home run, it is strike one. If the batter fails to get a home run three times, he is out – i.e. three strikes and you are out.

The winner is the player who scores the most home runs. If after nine innings the scores are level, it comes down to that old devil – nearest to bull wins.

This is a game of bull and as such, one would expect the Bull to cruise to an easy victory in the opening game of the fourth Dart Club meet. However, for the fourth week running, the Finisher was closest to bull’s-eye to start the game. But darts, like many sports, with the possible exception of sprinting, is a marathon.

Since baseball really is a game of seeing who can hit bull’s-eye more often than the other it makes statistical analysis of who scored what points a bit redundant, since points don’t mean shit.

It wasn’t until the sixth innings that things started to hot up. Although, perhaps ‘hot up’ is the wrong phrase to use. Things certainly started to get warmer. The Bull got a home run or homer as they are known in the States.

Then the Bull went and got another homer in the seventh, putting him two up, with only two more innings to go, surely he would take the opening game for the third week running?

But no, the Finisher scored a homer in the eighth, edging back into the game, only to see his fight back quashed with a homer from the Bull putting him 3-1 up going into the ninth.

Surely this time it was all over?

Never write off the Finisher though, unless it’s towards the end of the night and his eyes have glazed over. Thankfully for the Finisher the chairmen were playing darts baseball early doors and like some sort of phoenix from the flames, he scored two home runs in the ninth and pitched the Bull clean out, levelling things at 3-3.

Phewee, it was actually quite exciting after all. Especially for the Bull who bucked the trend of darts lifetime and went closest to the bull sealing the game and his third opener on the bounce and answering his critics in the most emphatic of bull’s-eye hitting fashion.

You see, the Bull had started to be questioned on why he had his nom de plume when the bull’s-eye seemed to figure so rarely in his 301 breakdowns (although no one questions the Finisher when he is trying to hit double one for the umpteenth time, and no-one has asked the Specialist just what he specialises in yet). But a game like baseball is just the kind of right to reply he needed.

The rest of the evening consisted largely of 301s, although one game of American cricket was played, in which the Specialist and Darkness clocked up the biggest ever Dart Club total so far with 420 points, toppling the Finisher’s 398 from dartweek two at the Champion. The vanquished pair, Danny Boy and the Sidewinder, managed to score 245. However, a high scoring game of American cricket is like a quick game of chess where the players sacrifice pieces without really knowing why or caring. It is the trench warfare of darts games. In short, it is bad form.

The Specialist has got the X Factor

There then followed a massive 15 more games of 301, featuring four Dart Club debutantes, the Fire, the Shy, the Snowman and Uncle Sam.

Uncle Sam became the first visitor from across the pond to grace Dart Club. And he had the audacity to win a game. Honestly, they come over here, all nylons and fancy ways and then they have the bare-faced cheek to win the most British of games of all (except American cricket, American football and baseball). Although, ironicaliciously enough Uncle Sam was victorious in 301 (partnered, for the record, by the Sidewinder).

Darter of the night, however, was without a doubt the Finisher, who managed his second ten dart 301 finish leaving his opponent, the Darkness, on 179 at check out. He also scooped 60quid in the 501 play-off challenge. According to Dart Club rule two, the money was immediately ploughed back into Dart Club. Dart Club, having learnt a lesson from last time's close shave at the Lyric, very sensibly held the 501 challenge at the early doors time of 21:00, leaving enough time to buy a round. Then carry one playing 301.

Now, you the reader may be losing track of just who is a Dart Clubber and who is just a fly-by-night fair weather dartist, a lot of silly names have made it into the blog so far and you, no doubt, will have spotted some of the regulars.

The Bubble is coining it in	Ooooh Danny Booooy!

What the fuck is the Animal doing?

You may also be finding it difficult to follow just who scores what, you might not even care who scores what – you might just be using the blog as a guidebook to new as yet unlearnt darts games, or maybe even a guide blog to pubs in central London. But it was eluded to in the previous chapter that numbers are everything in darts, plus if there was no statistical stuff it’d be a short blog. There has been plenty of statistical analysis along the way, but sometimes it can be difficult to see the wood for the trees.

Now, mathematical fuck-wits the co-chairmen may be, but they do have a keen sense of what is right and wrong. As has been pointed out before, darts is a numbers game, so it should be a fairly straight forward task to develop some sort of quantitative ranking system. After four Dart Club meets, enough statistics had been accumulated to sort the men from the boys. It was for that reason and also to prove to the Bull that he was a finer arrowsmith, that the Finisher developed the patented Dart Club Ranking System©. Points would be awarded for Dart Club loyalty, attendances at the oche and the subsequent successes and merit points for ‘sexy darts’, as shown below:

Dart Clubs attended = 1pt
n01 singles played = 1pt
n01 singles won = 2pts
n01 doubles played = 2pts
n01 doubles won = 1pt
501 challenges played = 3pts
501 challenges won = 5pts
Non-n01 games played = 1pt
Non-n01 games won = 2pts

Merit Points for Sexy Darts

170 exit = 70pts
Three dart exit = 10pts
Bull’s-eye exit = 8pts
Double top exit = 5pts
Double 1 exit = 1pt
Pub Score = 1pt
Bull’s-eye = 1pt
A 180 = 50pts
A 160 = 40pts
A 140 = 30 pts
A 120 = 20pts
A 100 = 10pts

When the Finisher tabled the idea of the Dart Club Ranking System©, giving the Bull ample opportunity to amend the point scoring system, the Bull gave him the thumbs up. However, when the Bull saw the Dart Club Ranking System© results he was less than happy. And little wonder, because after four Dart Clubs a clear rift had already developed. For the record, and without the need of going into meaningless statistical analysis regarding averages and accuracy coefficients, here is the Dart Club Top Ten according to Dart Club Ranking System points earned.

1	Finisher	165
2	Danny Boy	112
3	Clinician	85
4	Bull	72
5	Specialist	56
6	Darkness	43
7	Animal	42
8	Black Bomber	29
9	Sidewinder	25
10	Bubble	21

The goal-posts had been set, which brings up the fifth rule of Dart Club.

The fifth rule of Dart Club is never, ever question the validity of the Dart Club Ranking System.

After four Dart Clubs 25 happy darters had played a part. Five people had a 100 per cent attendance record (the Finisher, Danny Boy, the Clinician, the Specialist and the Bull). Those five darters make up the top five places, proving that loyalty and practise are the two most important things in darts.

The other most important things in darts are Merit Points for Sexy Darts. Without the Finisher’s 140 and two 120s to fall back on he would have 95 and Danny Boy would lead the hit parade. However, the Finisher does have the sexiest darts so far (including no less than eight Pub Scores) and so is head and shoulders above the chasing pack.

C is for carnality

Darters, like a lot of top athletes, can be a superstitious bunch. If Stevie Wonder was a professional darter he’d be very superstitious, and, let’s face it, luck would have to be on his side.

All players will have lucky darts, some players will have lucky darts’ shirts that remain unwashed as a tournament progresses, one can only assume that the smell has a damaging effect on the opponent’s concentration. Some players might have favourite jewellery or maybe a lucky sequence of events prior to a big match, perhaps half a dozen pints of lager and 10 Benson’s – that sort of thing. So when the next scheduled meet for Dart Club fell in a week that contained a Friday the 13th, there was no alternative. Dart Club would have to tempt fate.

It was always going to be risky. But the chairmen didn’t form Dart Club to play it safe, they formed it to play darts. Irrespective of ridiculous calendarical superstitions.

Last week at the Champion Dart Club had swelled to the majestic total of 10 members. When it was announced that the next meet would be Friday 13th half of the new members pulled out!

Could it be the terror of arrows on such a doom-forsaken date that was putting them off? Could it be that they were young men really and wanted to go out chasing tail on a Friday night like everyone else? Well a couple opted for a night in with their wives and another couple went to Alton Towers. It was looking like the magic was gone. Friday the 13th was doing its stuff.

Fate, as we all know, is a fickle mistress. So it came as no surprise to discover the Red Lion on Kingly Street, the proposed site of the next Dart Club meet, had only recently been refurbished. And part of that so called refurbishment involved the removal of the dartboard. DO NOT EVER DRINK IN THE RED LION.

Upon entering the boozer to book the board an ashen-faced Finisher asked the witless Aussie barman where the board has gone.

“It’s not there,” said the witless Aussie barman.
“I can see that.”
“There aren’t really any round here” said a voice from the side.”
“You’d be surprised,” said the Finisher, exiting stage left, down the stairs and back out into London’s seedy Soho, nose to the air and darts on his mind.

Well if that Red Lion didn’t have one, maybe the Red Lion near Shaftsbury Avenue on Great Windmill Street would. The Darkness had sent the Finisher an email earlier saying he was sure he’d chucked there before, so it was worth a try.

But no. It looked nice in the Great Windmill Street-based Red Lion, much nicer than the one on Kingly Street for example, which is a dump. However, nice doesn’t cut the mustard when it comes to darts.

The Bull and the Finisher left the nicer Red Lion and figured that they’d have to head back to the drawing board rather than the darting board, when the Bull said: “Oh well, why don’t we check out that pub?” Pointing to a small unassuming Irish boozer called the Lyric. And so they did.

On entering the pub, there is no immediate dartboard on display. Friday the 13th, oh how you taunt. However, by simply asking the jovial landlord Richard he’ll point you in the direction of the ladies toilet upstairs and there in a pokey yet comfortable back room, featuring a pool table and money gobbling juke box, is a knackered old dartboard. But by gum there it is, all round and lovely, doubles and trebles ahoy, out of the window happy darters can also ‘check out’ the Windmill Club, which is London’s seedy Soho’s seedier equivalent, presumably, of Paris’s notorious Moulin Rouge.

Every major city has a red-light district and London is no exception. Indeed as far as London is one of the first modern centres of civilisations, it goes without saying that it probably leads the way in many seedy areas, although how that can be proven is unclear unless, like an adult-movie equivalent of Dart Club, there’s an International Porn Club out there.

But London’s seedy Soho seems to exist solely for the purpose of watching embarrassed business men going hurriedly in and out of dirty video shops or indeed going hurriedly in and out of busty models that are new in town and live upstairs. Whereas other sex centres may be gloriously liberated in this age of tolerance, the repressive English sexual attitudes will mean that porn houses will always remain seedy, downstairs places full of people embarrassed to be there and hoping they can fit enough gay porn videos in their overstretched briefcases without being spotted on the way out. Let’s hope it never changes.

Incidentally, the Lyric is an Irish pub, but not like O’bloody Neil’s which has Australian barstaff, oh no, the Lyric has Irish bar staff 100 per cent. Imagine a London boozer with no Antipodeans, sounds like heaven. Then when you combine that with the fact that it serves Kronenburg, you’re laughing. The nearest tube is Piccadilly Circus, come out of station walk up Shaftesbury Avenue and Great Windmill Street is on your left, you can’t miss it there’s a massive picture of the bottom half of a scantily clad lap dancer directly opposite.

Dart Club had the room booked all night, at no cost, just as long as it could guarantee at least a dozen thirsty punters. Despite the fact that Dart Club was happening on Friday 13th and half of what were assumed to be keen and avid new darters would not be in attendance, Dart Club would go ahead, throwing caution to the wind, like a small piece of tungsten at the sisal board of life.

Not too many new darters had been in touch in the run up to Dart Week Three. Not to worry, it was 17:45 and the Bull and Finisher had left work in the company of two Dart Club firsts. The records do not show who was officially the first, so the pair will have to share the honour of being the first lady darters at Dart Club - dartettes. And what a lovely pair they were.

The Power and the Sidewinder

The Power and the Sidewinder had already added significantly to the glamour factor of Dart Club, if nothing else at least the papers might now be interested, after all, sex sells. In fact some sex is also for sale on Great Windmill Street, where certain ‘models’ are available for hire, indeed three bewildered oriental gentlemen were asked within earshot of the Lyric, whether they would like sex for a staggering 75knicker. She was no oil painting either.

Before the Finisher and Bull could road-test the new game, American football, they had to ascertain where the oche should be, since there are no obvious oche markings on the floor in the Lyric. Now, by some strange quirk of nature the Finisher and the Bull make almost ideal human oche markers. The bull’s-eye should be 5’8” (1.73m) from the floor and the darter should stand 7’9”1/4 (or 2.37m) away from the board.

The Bull taller than the bull?!

So with the Bull standing at 5’8” at the board and the Finisher at 6’1”, with his arms up, lying on his back, it describes a rough approximation of the required measurements of the dartboard and oche positions. The chairmen placed two bar stools with a pool cue between as a makeshift oche, covered and moved the pool table and were ready to start.

American football, or gridiron as it is often called for some inexplicable reason, is nothing whatsoever like rugby – but your dad probably says it is. He is very wrong, and not for the first time. The real thing involves getting dressed up in fancy outfits, there are three teams per side, one is offensive, one defensive and the other special. Each team takes it in-turn to move the rugby ball-shaped ball forward at least 10 yards in four goes called ‘downs’, with the ultimate aim of carrying the ball into the end-zone, thereby scoring a touchdown, although curiously the player doesn’t need to touch the ball down.

This game is probably best played with a clear head. Americans love it because of the fancy outfits and high scoring. It goes on all afternoon usually enabling plenty of time for booze, which is why it is really a good game. Oh, and there are often cheerleaders.

The darts version, which is an Ivy League favourite, is not quite as complicated as the real thing, and while it involves less fancy outfits and cheerleaders it does hold plenty of potential for drinking beer all afternoon.

Be warned! This game should only really be attempted by two people with time on their hands. And maybe a Dart Club meet was not the kind of place for American football. Still, rules is rules and for the third Dart Club in a row the Finisher was closest to the bull’s-eye with his opening shot, which meant he was in the diving seat.

The Bull was the defence and so kicked off by throwing three darts into the board, thus determining the line of scrimmage (or the running total). The defence then throws another three darts – this is the ‘down’ total. The offence then tries to beat the down total with three darts. If the offence is successful the difference in scores is taken away from the running total. If the offence is not successful, move onto the next down. In other words the defence sets a new down total with three darts. And the offence tries to beat this new down total, with the aim of reducing the running total to zero or beyond in four downs. If the offence gets the running total to zero or below in four turns (12 darts), he scores a touchdown, worth six points. After which, he may go for the point after touchdown by throwing just one dart and getting it into the pub score zone (five, 20 and one) worth one point.

If the offence is not confident that he will beat the defence by enough to secure a touchdown, before the beginning of the fourth down, he must announce that he is going to go for a field-goal. In the real thing, a field-goal is an attempted place kick through the goal posts worth three points. In darts, it is an attempted throw with one dart at a given target as follows: If the running total is 25 or below, the target area is that described by the circle of trebles (not including the trebles), if the running total is between 26 and 50 the target area is the 25/bull. If the running total is 51+ the offence may not elect to go for a field-goal.

It is important that the offence declares his intention to attempt a field-goal prior to the defence’s fourth down setting throws. Defence always sets the down score to beat, in order that the offence gets the adrenal rush of scoring the touchdown. The player who just scored becomes the defence for the next game, i.e. he sets the new running total.

If all this is a bit much, to help simplify matters, here are scores of the very first game of American Football that the Bull and the Finisher played at Dart Club. Now remember the Finisher was closest bull so was in the driving seat setting the running total (scoring 63).

The Finisher	The Bull	Running Total
-	63	63
13	68	63
50	45	58
71	16	3
80 (TOUCHDOWN) +1	60	-17 (TOUCHDOWN)
26	-	26
26	55 (TOUCHDOWN)	-3 (TOUCHDOWN)
-	45	45
37	18	28
81 (TOUCHDOWN) +1	40	-13 (TOUCHDOWN)
19	-	19
41	21	19
55	26	19
50	30	19
-	Field-goal	-
-	61	61
26	47	61
30	15	46
36	66	46
Failed FG	-	-
23	-	23
1	63 (TOUCHDOWN) +1	-62 (TOUCHDOWN)

In summary, the Finisher scored two touchdowns, as did the Bull, but the Bull also converted a field goal so won the match by three points.

As the pair were road-testing the new game a number of twitchy Dart Clubbers arrived, including the Clinician, the Darkness, Danny Boy and the Specialist – all of whom were sporting new darts.

The Clincian’s were not exactly new, more repaired, the Darkness had invested £6.99 in some Crafty Cockneys, while Danny Boy and the Specialist had bought some for an undisclosed sum that had gimicky spinning flights.

The Specialist tried to hide his gimickry by attaching Notts Forest flights. A technique that would probably win him a number of friends, at that time Notts Forest was the most widely supported football club within the ranks of Dart Club with four followers.

Over the previous two chapters statistical analysis has proved a problem. It’s all well and good listing endless reams of numbers about drunken darts games and for those that were involved it no doubt proves an interesting insight into the very fabric of their dartology. But for the average punter it represents nothing more than some meaningless numbers. And, what’s more, the authors are both mathematical fuck-wits.

The Finisher is the greater of the fuck-wits on the maths side and particularly struggles with subtraction when it involves going between groups of hundreds. Amusingly, he can be easily irritated by being told the answer to his mental arithmetic tasks while he slowly calculates the same problem in his head.
“I was just getting there,” he normally responds. He never is though.

Crap at the maff

Given the co-chairmen’s fuckwittedness, there is every likelihood that most of the stats from the previous two weeks are inaccurate. However, it has to be accepted that darts is a numbers game, the numbers are not meaningless, they are everything. What’s more, certain numbers are more everything than other numbers, and that’s the beauty of the game. The quest for the holy numbers is everything.

It is no coincident that darters resemble the knights of King Arthur’s reign. For round table read round dartboard, for lances and arrows read ..er..darts, for Camelot read Circus Tavern in Purfleet, for King Arthur read Phil Taylor. For darts read chivalry, courage and defence of the realm. Obviously there is Excalibur and it could be contended that everyone has their own three individual Excaliburs (except for those of you yet to draw them out of a stone that is your local sports shop). As for the Holy Grail, it could only be the hallowed 180 (it could be the 501 nine dart finish or even 170 exit, but..well…let’s be slightly realistic).

The third incarnation of Dart Club featured only one more game of American football which, for the record, was won by the Clinician and four more games of American cricket, the only point of interest being that the tightest finish so far occurred when Danny Boy overcame the Darkness by a mere eight points.

Nine more games of 301 were played, with points of major interest including a 10 dart finish by the Finisher, scoring a 120 and 98 with consecutive throws – leaving the Bull on 124 at check out. At this level, that’s good darts! The Darkness broke his Dart Club duck and finally won a game of 301, avenging his earlier American cricket defeat at the hands of Danny Boy with a 31 dart finish.

By the third week, Dart Club’s glamour quotient had shot through the roof, as no less than six ladies participated in one of the most gruelling games of 301 to date.

The Enigma is not best pleased

Split into pairs, it took the best part of three quarters of an hour to play a game, ONE GAME of 301, 45 minutes… which was eventually won by the Sidewinder and the Enigma. Much to the annoyance of the Clinician, whose misogynistic character came to the fore, relentlessly pacing the length of the room cursing under his breath every time the ladies failed to check out.

Danny Boy, however, was more than sympathetic and it did not go unnoticed by certain sections of Dart Club that the Irish crooner had an altogether different kind of check out in mind. Sitting in full view of the Windmill Club was always going to be dangerous for Danny Boy, darts is a passionate game.

All that remained was to play the 501 challenge, which due to the staggering numbers that Dart Club had attracted started at about 22:00doors. As last orders passed by the barmaid started to get a little bit narky, then closing time rang out, Dart Club was given 10 minutes to get out. It looked like Friday 13th would have the last laugh after all. Without completion, the £5 that everyone had staked would have to be given back the night would have been ruined. The Clinician was scoring and reduced everyone’s total by 100 and was keen to eliminate all those players not yet below 200 – namely the ladies.

However, Dart Club is not in the business of restricting ladies’ darts. With the clock at 23:15 and the bar maid now threatening violence, the pressure intensified. With the time at 23:25 she gave us one last throw, one last hurl of the arrow. And one man rose to the challenge, one man alone was equal to mistress fate – the Black Bomber, scooped the 75bigones on the table, then he scooped up his good lady the Bite and presumably scooped up a large burger with fries before retiring for a night of love.

The Black Bomber is quite happy	Dart Club celebrates last orders

A is for...And then there were darts

The following email invitation was sent to a select band of men (well, actually it was sent to our email address book):

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Email Bulletin
---------------------------------------------------------
From: Undisclosed source
Sent: 05 August 2002 17:28
To: Undisclosed recipients
Subject: Dart Club
---------------------------------------------------------

Ladies and gentlemen

You have been hand selected because you are men (and women) of honour, men (and women) of courage, but most importantly of all, men (and …oh, who are we kidding?) who like darts.

You are being presented with the opportunity to put something back into the game you love, drink beer and play a part in the journey of a lifetime.

Over the next 12 months Dart Club will visit 26 different central London-based public houses, all with one very important thing in common. That's right. In each of these pubs Dart Club will play a game of darts, but it will not be a normal game. Well, it will be a few times, but the other times it will be a dart-variant game.

Each event will be captured and noted down, culminating ultimately in the production of a book. We might even take some photos, if we remember to buy a camera.

You and you may or may not have met each other, but that's not the point. You might not be able to play a part in all 26 games, but that's not the point either. As far as we can tell, there are three points, and they’re all going to be thrown with varying degrees of accuracy at London’s dartboards over the next year.

All that remains to be said is, we'll see you in the One Tun, on Goodge Street in London's glitzy West End on Tuesday 13th if you fancy a game of arrows - unless the board is busy, then we'll find somewhere else.

May the best man win.

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The One Tun is within easy walking distance of Goodge Street tube, just come out of the station, turn right and right again, and it’s about two hundred yards on the right, the sign has a man holding a barrel and One Tun in big writing, you can’t miss it.

When it comes to premium lagers this is a Stella pub, but with the time of arrival at an early doors of 17:30 it was too early for wife beater, so with the evening stretching out before us like a mysterious trip into the darts unknown we, the Dart Club co-chairmen, ordered a pint of Carling and a pint of Fosters from the Australian barmaid. The bar staff, it turns out, are at least 60% Australian.

A little nervous, not quite knowing what to do was slightly unusual, we’ve played darts many a time in various pubs across London, but we knew that something big was just about to start. There would be some pretty complicated games to learn over the course of the year, and rather than put off our darting companions by subjecting them to some bizarre darts version of American football, we thought it wise to keep it simple, so chose 301, because every darter knows how to play it.

The classic and most widely played darts game in the world is basically a race down to zero, from a predefined total. Three oh one is usually played by beginners, while 501 tends to be played by the more experienced dartists, or amateurs with time on their hands.

Deciding who goes first is almost always settled by seeing who can get nearest to the bull’s-eye with a single dart – middle for diddle. Once a game is underway competitors take it in turns to throw three darts at the board, taking the sum of the three darts away from the current score, 301 or 501 at the beginning.

Some regional variations have it that players must start out by scoring a double. But hitting the doubles is bloody difficult when you’re crap and so you’re probably better off playing ‘straight in’. Anywhere on the board is fair game.

The game starts at one over the ton so darters are forced at some stage to go for an odd number – although with pub darters deviating from the 20 segment is not usually an issue. A top tip for those requiring an odd number is the section of the board featuring 7, 19, 3 and 17 – this area of the board has such a high concentration of odd numbers it is affectionately known in some quarters as Old Compton Street.

Starting out on a double is not widespread darting practice, but finishing on a double most certainly is. The ‘check out’, as it is known, means finishing exactly on zero with a double, and that includes the bull’s-eye. If a player finishes on minus figures, he is ‘bust’ and retains his current running total score. Likewise, if a player finishes on one, he is bust, because there is no 0.5 segment on the board - although it is fairly common practice to either split the 11 when faced with this predicament or go for a bull’s-eye.

One hundred and seventy is the highest check out and 159 is the lowest score that a darter cannot check out on with three darts (a bloke down the pub told me that. Nice bloke. Fat bloke. And he was related to Oliver Cromwell).

Double 20, denoted T for tops when chalking, is the most glamorous out shot (apart from bull’s-eye) that most darters will go for. However, tops is riddled with danger for the mere amateur. It might seem innocuous at first glance, sitting up at the crest of the board, after all it’s surface area is just the same as any other outer double so why not give it crack?

Here is why: because if you miss you are likely it hit a 1 or a 5, thus leaving yourself without an out shot. Or should you score a straight 20 that’ll leave you requiring double 10 – well, that’s an out shot fair enough, but hit the straight 10 and it’s double 5 left, which could easily leave you requiring 5 to finish – not nice. Plus, you might find yourself on 5 earlier than you think, since 10 lies adjacent to 15.

The more sophisticated darter will probably try to leave himself requiring 32. This target has a number of advantages, should you hit a straight 16, you’ll need double 8, which is the adjacent segment, a straight 8 will leave you double 4, a straight 4, a double 2, a straight 2, double 1 – they are all out shots.

Going back to double 16, if you strike the 8 (remember, it’s right next door), you’ll need double 12, a straight 12 leaves double 6, which lies at 3 o’clock and for most right handed darters is favourable – although it could leave you requiring double 3, which should probably be avoided, since getting left needing double 3 is worse than double 5.

But don’t take my word for it:
“Double 3!…Nasty that. Worst double on the board. Never go near it less you’ve fucked double 12 and then come inside on double 6. Murder. 3’s the double all darters dread. Right down at the bottom like that, at six o’clock, you’re sort of dropping it in. And if you come inside it’s 1, double 1. Pressure darts,”
Keith ‘the Finisher’ Talent, London Fields

The doubles that make up Old Compton Street, 7 through to 17 should all be avoided if possible, since a straight in any leaves no out shot. (And that last sentence works on two levels.) If all this is getting a bit complicated (or boring), you should check out the Check Out Chart in Appendix I (unless it’s getting boring, then you should probably put this book down and pick up a good novel).

A quick gambling game, known as Dublin, sees both darters start on 101, an initial stake is made on the game, darters must start and end on a double. If one darter checks out before the other starts, the stake is doubled. Hence, Dublin – doubling – geddit? It should be a quick-fire game in which darters can win or lose cash quickly, however, since it concentrates on the trickier aspect of darts, namely hitting doubles, it’s not actually that quick-fire.

Chasing down from the predefined total is often more fun than the painstaking finish. In much the same way that driving down a motorway is often more fun than reverse parking into a space that looks decidedly too small, while traffic backs up behind you on a busy high street. With that in mind there are a number of alternative end-game scenarios.

The simplest variation is known as ‘the girls’ finish’, here competitors are not required to finish on a double. An even easier finish is ‘the busty girls’ finish’, where players are merely required to get down beyond zero. The ‘draw finish’ or ‘equal darts’ lets fellow darters complete the round, ensuring everybody has had the same number of throws, which means that two or more darters can finish equal, although some darters are more equal than others.

In some instances players can find themselves up against inferior opposition. For example, when a gentleman challenges his spouse at the oche. Mostly, this is great news. However, this being a very British game, competitors may wish to enforce some sort of handicap system, thus enabling female darters to taste sweet victory.

Handicaps include: letting ladies stand a bit closer; making the gentleman darter throw one or more of his three darts using his cackhand; making the man start on a higher number; and allowing the woman anyone of the non-double finishes outlined above. This is an excellent way of patronising the little lady, plus should you lose, you save face, since really you “let them win” and when all is said and done, “they are not bad for a bird”.

The final piece of darting etiquette that one should be aware of is known as ‘muggs off’. Put simply, this means the loser of the last game, starts the next game.

Before proceedings get underway it is suggested that players pick suitable darts names. Over years of darting around London we the authors had settled on the Finisher and the Bull. The Finisher in homage to his darting hero, Keith Talent, and the Bull because standing at a height of 5’8” he is exactly the same height as the bull’s-eye should be from the floor. They were ready to sDart.

Opening the very first game at Dart Club of the very first night of the voyage onto the high seas of the darts unknown, the Finisher was closest to bull’s-eye, and purely for the purposes of clarity here’s how it went.

The Finisher	301	The Bull	301
12,5,1	283	5,60,20	216
9	274	12,5,3	199
20,15,9	240	20,20,25	129
20,1,1	218	20,25,9	75
5,1	212	5,18,19	28
36,12,5	159	9	19
20,1,12	126	17bust	19
5,1,15	105	2,7	10
1,1,5	98	5bust	10
5,5,2	86	5,1	4
40,5,9	32	bust	4
Double 16	Check out

If you can be bothered to analyse the above results, you have problems. So for those of you without problems here is a quick overview of the conclusions that someone with problems might draw.

1. The Bull was better down to bull.
2. The Finisher was the better finisher.

The Finisher finishes

Our darts names are, it seems, quite appropriate after all.

You are considered to be of professional standard if you average 31 per dart. The Finisher’s average of 25.8 per three darts meant that he was far from professional, it was obviously dragged down by the eight 1s tabled. Perhaps he would have been better placed standing slightly to the left.

The pub was already starting to fill up with the time at an early doors of about 18:00 and Dart Club learnt a valuable lesson much to the chagrin of some less fortunate standers-by: Get in the pub early and don’t leave the oche.

A further consideration for the darter is to disguise your crapness. This is very difficult to do in a game like darts as it is a very visual beast, but there are a number of approaches at hand. One is to play the game very quickly and not let the darts linger in the board – unless you score particularly well, then it is time to go to the bar or toilet, or do some other time consuming trick like lighting a fag so that they can be left for viewing. The downside to playing quickly is (and this is a bit of a truism that your girlfriend might agree with) everything gets very rushed and you are liable to be even worse than you feared you would be.

The second and safer alternative when crap is to make it look like you don’t care – this technique gets most of us through secondary school, so you should be well versed. If you make it look like you don’t care you will be immune to the schadenfreudic wishes of onlookers – i.e. “he thinks he’s really good, I hope he fucks it up. Oh good he has. But alas he seems not to give gypsy’s kiss”. The downside to this is that no one will take you seriously. The upside to this is that no one will take you seriously. To perfect this approach a number of things have to be remembered. Fancy darts in fancy darts cases are out. It may be necessary to borrow darts from the bar – even if you don’t actually use them.

The third and most popular approach to crapness is to drink heavily. This way you can play as seriously as you like and still not care. And if you display lots of signs of heavy drinking, no one will expect you to be able to play well either. There is one serious downside – that you act like a wanker and become very unpopular. But everything has its price……

With one game under their belts the Bull and the Finisher returned to their drinks to contemplate life and await the imminent arrival of their darting companions.

They wouldn’t have to wait long, for the man who invented FridgeChess walked through the door. Wow! Dart Club had its first whacky entrepreneur. Not bad. If this book never takes off, maybe one day the FridgeChess bloke will invent fridge darts and we’ll be able to buy it in WH Smith instead. In honour of his fridge-based profession he was dubbed ‘the Light’.

“Big turn out” said the Light with a cheeky glint in his eye. “You’ll see” said the Finisher, and he did. Before you could say “Jocky Wilson is a hermit” in walked a journalist colleague of Dart Club’s authors, a grim, worrisome chap, who only ever drinks Guinness, he dubbed himself the Darkness and quickly decided he was the sworn enemy of the Light. The Darkness got himself a pint of Guinness.

Three more dartists arrived. The first a PhD vivisectionist, who at first chose the charming title ‘the Butcher of Bloomsbury’, but then in the interests of not getting Dart Club firebombed by PETA opted for the Clinician. The second a larger than life Cockney City boy type who due to his Irish heritage chose the name of the song he always sings at the end of the night as his moniker, Danny Boy. The third of these new arrivals opted for ‘the Specialist’ since he specialises in being rubbish at darts.

Dart Club was ready for its first game of doubles. But before the first game of doubles could be played the first rule of Dart Club had to be outlined to the assembled players:

The first rule of Dart Club is, you must tell everyone you know about Dart Club.

Without getting into the deeper analysis of who scored what, what can be revealed about the next game of doubles played is the Specialist and the Finisher won the game, with the Finisher finishing on his favourite of double one – his natural propensity to stand slightly too far to the right coming in handy. And, interestingly enough, the pairing’s average score was 29.9 was a distinct improvement on the Finisher’s earlier 25.8. Showing that darts can be a team game after all.

Dart Club progressed with a number of singles matches. When it comes to watching mano y mano 301 challenges with a group of mates, side betting on the outcome is strongly recommended, this greatly enhances the fun of watching someone else having fun. Not a major revelation admittedly, but after about eight pints of lager, epiphanies are commonplace, and usually involve kebabs.

The Light hands the Bull his winnings	Abrakababra it's Danny Boy

A further ten games of 301 followed, of which Irish crooner Danny Boy and the Clinician won three (including an impressive three dart finish complete with a double top exit from the Clinician), the Finisher won two, the Bull and the Light won one a piece. With the Specialist and Darkness specialising in not winning any. There were a number of 100s scored throughout the evening, however, the Finisher took the top score prize with a 105.

Despite a hat-trick of wins, including one with an average score of 56.2, Danny Boy tabled the lowest score in open play with a miserly two, the lowest average in a game was scored by the Darkness with 21.5. And just for the record the Dart Club average average was 37.55769.

The night was capped off with a massive seven darter play-off game of 501. Each player placed a fiver into the ring and the Bull claimed his glittering prize with a 30 dart finish (approx) and an impressive average score of about 48.3. Under duress he pledged to funnel the money back into darts. Which gave us the second rule of Dart Club.

The second rule of Dart Club is: you have to plough your winnings back into Dart Club.

The Bull wins the 501 challenge

Conclusions to be drawn are that booze settles the nerves, since with a clear head the Bull only managed an average of thirty one point bloody two. Still, that’s darts. The night had been a success even though we came only fourth out of ten in the quiz, Dart Club was still a winner and Danny Boy’s Danny Boy was something else.