Other major tournaments included the various Open events, the World Cup and many others, which soon began to attract the interest of the TV executives together with sponsors and, as a result, bigger prize money for the players.
This was where it was at, and by the age of seventeen I was going places. The BDO and television came at exactly the right moment for me. Darts was taking off. It was big business.
THREE
County Darts
AT SEVENTEEN, MONEY and fame proved too tempting so I stopped playing local league darts and concentrated more on cash tournaments and playing Super League. Every weekend I’d be playing these tournaments, desperate to win first prize which in some cases was over £500, a lot back then, and all the while playing the big-name players for money beforehand so that I had something to fall back on if I got knocked out.
One tournament I played in was at Gatwick with another new player on the scene called Bobby George. Bobby was a confident 29-year-old floor layer, yet to achieve notoriety by coming on stage wearing a crown and cloak and holding a candelabra in his teeth to the sound of Queen’s ‘We Are the Champions’. Bobby and I played in the pairs tournament. This was the first time we’d been paired together, and because he was a mate I was looking forward to it. I went up to the oche and threw my first dart, which bounced out, threw the second and that bounced out, then threw the third which bounced out too. I just stared at the board, I couldn’t believe it. Bobby had his head in his hands. Next it was his turn. He went bounce out, bounce out, bounce out. I couldn’t comprehend what was going on. It was incredible.
‘We’ve scored sod all with six darts,’ I said.
‘Don’t worry, son,’ Bobby replied. ‘We can only get better from here.’
I was shell-shocked. I’ll tell you now, that will not have happened anywhere else in the world. In the history of darts nobody has got six bounce outs on the trot. It’s just not going to happen. It wasn’t a bad board either, and it wasn’t as though we were throwing bad darts, we were just hitting the wires. We got over it, however, and went on to win, and since then we’ve always been close pals. I like straight-talking blokes, blokes who don’t talk about you behind your back, and Bobby would never do that. He is very honest.
We made arrangements to go to the Sussex Open shortly after that. It was £500 for the winner, and there were twelve hundred players in this place. To give us a better chance of winning good money we decided to split it if either of us won. On the day Bobby came to pick me up – I never drive, I can’t even drive now, I like a drink you see so what’s the point in driving? I’m probably the only bloke in Britain who had a fleet of cars but could never drive any of them – and I immediately realised he was suffering from a monumental hangover, which wasn’t a great start. I got to his van and it was filthy inside. He’d put a plastic sheet on the passenger seat for me to sit on so I didn’t get my clothes dirty. I was carrying my shirt to play in which was all clean and ironed and on a hanger, but when I got in the van there was nowhere to hang it without it getting dirty so I had to hold it up with one hand for the whole journey.
He got us there in one piece – after telling me he’d had no sleep because he’d been at a family party all night. This is typical Bobby: he didn’t need to go to the Open, but because he’d made a promise to pick me up he went. He always honoured his promises, despite being wrecked on the day. When we got there Bobby went straight to the bar and had a couple of beers to try and sort his head out.
‘You still look like shit,’ I told him, just before he was about to go on. Then he went up to the oche and got beaten first round. That was not supposed to happen. He was one of the favourites like me, but he was totally and utterly gone from the night before. As soon as his