Peter Wright is a 43-year-old Scotsman and on the evening of New Year's Day in London 2,500 people were singing his name to the tune of 'Give It Up' by KC and the Sunshine Band.
Peter (AKA Snakebite) was one of a handful of men on a stage erected in the historic Alexandra Palace, and easily the most recognisable.
Even in formalwear (which Peter certainly wasn't wearing) he would be identifiable, thanks to his brightly coloured magenta mohawk, And the snake painted to the side of his face.
The snake, a python in the open-jawed fang-baring moment of strike, extends from the back of Peter's shaven scalp and over and around his ear, framing the left side of his face. It is what an interior designer might refer to as a feature.
Such feature pieces are often used to provide an accent to an otherwise muted palate, but there was nothing bland about the rest of Peter's get up. An ostensibly black polo shirt and trouser combination was made more eye-catching by the addition of a large number of multicoloured swirls. Describing them is all but impossible but think Jackson Pollock, or string theory explained by an infant with a new box of crayons, or those pictures of spider webs from the 1960s during LSD trials. Not helping? Then scrunch your eyes really tight for a few seconds and imagine the bursts of pigment that explode all over your field of vision when you reopen them, woven onto an all-black ensemble. Topped by a man with a snake painted onto his head.
Peter was on a stage in Ally Pally dressed so expressively because he was competing in the final of the PDC World Darts Championships. And the spectacle he contributed to was marvellous. Just one 365th of the way through 2014 we've already witnessed one of the year's sporting highlights.
That is if darts is a sport. Obviously it is not the most active of competitive disciplines, and its professionals tend to not to exude the physiques of stereotypical sportsmen, but that should not undermine the phenomenal fine motor skills, the ability to perform under pressure, and the mental fortitude to handle the momentum shifts in a mano-a-mano rivalry, that the top players display. Besides, in a year in which one of the major sporting jamborees will hand out Olympic medals based on the same principal as voting off X-Factor contestants, I'll take an activity with an incontrovertible winner any day.
Sport or otherwise, the spectacle is something to behold.
Darts was popular in the 1970s and 1980s in the way other end-of-the-pier or working men's club entertainment was. But, like its cabaret bedfellows it struggled to keep up with changing times (such as the removal of tobacco sponsorship) and by the 1990s was an anachronism. It was early in that decade that British sports promoter Barry Hearn formed the breakaway PDC (Professional Darts Corporation) from the existing BDO (British Darts Organisation) and hitched his wagon to the nascent pay-TV industry. More tournaments, new sponsors, better promotion, better coverage and a more upbeat feel to everything around the game saw darts slowly rebuild its reputation.
Today the PDC World Championships is a sell-out, the professional circuit is thriving – expanding now into Australia – and darts is a TV main event, not simply a space-filler.
Hearn's great success has been making the experience about more than just the darts. As absorbing as a good contest can be, the sum of the moving parts can be captured by two fixed cameras – one on the player's face and throwing hand, the other on the quarter of the board including the treble-twenty. Hearn recognised this and made a trip to the darts, or a night in watching the darts on TV, about much more.
In black and white much of the added value sounds trivial and trite. Making personalities out of the players for example – giving audiences 'goodies' and 'baddies' to cheer and boo. There's walk-on music (Peter's is 'Don't Stop the Party' by Pitbull), distinctive outfits, the town crier calls of the scores (Onnnnnnnnne Hunnnnnnnndred and Eighhhhhhhhty!) and lots and lots of alcohol.
The booze used to be drunk as much by the players as the crowd, but that is no longer the case at the oche. Arrows are now thrown without a steadying pint, but to the raucous soundtrack of hundreds or thousands of inebriated revellers. Consequently live darts tournaments have a party vibe to them. There's dress ups to make Cricket Australia's marketing department salivate, chanting to rival the Barmy Army, and endless good-natured booze-fuelled banter.
Consequently TV coverage of the darts now features as many crowd shots as possible. Cutaways to Elvis impersonators or the cast of Scooby Doo laughing hysterically, delighted to just be in a beer hall – let alone a beer hall that happens to have top class sport on the far wall featuring a man with a snake painted on his head.
Peter, unfortunately, didn't take out the big prize this year. That honour fell to the favourite, Dutchman Michael van Gerwen. He prevailed 7-4 in sets after first racing into a commanding lead before suffering some midgame yips, only to recover and close out his first world title.
Not that Peter should be downhearted. He played his pantomime role to perfection, entertained a huge audience and ensured his scone will be one of the most iconic of this festive season.
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