Luke Littler (right) vs. Rob Cross put on a great show for the crowd at Alexandra Palace and at home. Photo: Tolga Akmen/Shutterstock < p>We have little control over the sports that speak to us. One rugby, cricket or football podcast is likely to distract your attention when you see what's going on in the park, another may be significantly less interesting than whatever podcast you're listening to.
Darts on television looks and sounds ridiculous at first glance. But find its wavelength, and within five minutes it will have its claws on you. At its best, no other televised sport can compare to this.
Clearly we're in one of those moments, with provisional driver's license genius Luke Littler giving this year's World Darts Championship a rare narrative thrust, the kind that puts fringe sports on the front pages. His semi-final victory over Rob Cross hit all the high notes that have become known as the tournament's reputation has grown over the past decade. There was psychological intrigue, sports entertainment, quick arithmetic and frequent encounters with an enthusiastic section of the public dressed as Oompa-Loompas.
Among the superlatives used to describe Littler was the simple joy of his brilliance, bleeding into every moment of Wayne Mardle's commentary. No repeating his “I can’t talk!” a failure since last year's Tuesday night final, but that was because Littler's progress had been surprisingly serene. “What a ledge,” Mardle said in conclusion. Sometimes there is eloquence in such simplicity.
If by the time we get to the best of 11 semi-finals his quirky delivery has become a bit stale, the pairing of Dan Dawson and John Part in the second semi-final was a tonic. They bring a constant gravitas and allow the viewer to relax into the dynamic pace of the game and its television treatment.
For such a calm and sweat-free sport, the camera frame changes surprisingly regularly, about once every two seconds. Familiar split screen showing the throw and the board, view from the board as the first player collects the darts, back to split screen, wide shot of the crowd, back to split screen, two triple 20s, then fast zoom in for the third dart, capturing the excitement of the moment with with his charming shaking. It's hypnotic.
Poor old Luke Humphreys, the brightest young star in darts until about two weeks before Littler trended on Google. His semi-final against Scott Williams was a poor one, so attention inevitably turned to the crowd, which grew rowdier with each set. Lots of early losers in the Dry January stakes at Alexandra Palace.
The Alexandra Palace public completely prefers fancy dress. Photo: Zach Goodwin/PA Willy Wonka and his Oompa Loompas enjoying a game of darts Photo: Zach Goodwin/PA
Close-up shots of fans are flashed in and out quickly, and if you linger, it is impossible to understand what hand gestures might be on display, what rude word might be shouted, what part of the body might be exposed. But there's no sport like this where the crowd feels as much reason to watch as the action.
Who's that just over Humphries' shoulder, who seems to be getting the runaround from the security guard? Why do all these people like Kolo and Yaya Toure so much? What could this man in a suit of green pea pods with the inscription “This is for darts” mean?
It's downright infectious when the crowd, with a keen sense of the ridiculous, goes wild or boos the players when they fail to maintain a nine-dart finish. During the pandemic, no sport has seemed hollow when played behind closed doors.
You'll see the subtlety on TV, too. Cross tried to prepare in advance for the fight with Littler, attacking the camera left of the eye as well as the former electrician from near Maidstone can do. There are many subtle variations in the return action of each player's throws, and each is a reason for liking or disliking each player more. Super slow motion replays show stunning spins and arcs.
Darts on TV loses its meaning when it becomes more traditional. As might be expected, Littler is not yet as great a conversationalist as the dart player. His post-game chat peaked when he learned that he would be eating a ham and cheese omelette for breakfast before the final.
But again, here we have an example of what makes this TV unforgettable on both sides. Christmas sides. Darts is inherently attractive because it is inherently stupid. Tiny missiles are aimed at tiny numbered sections of everyone from Fallon Sherrock, who looks like she'd enjoy a three-day emo festival, to the pointless, mohawked Peter Wright, who looks like he's touring with one of their bands.
< p>It takes enormous skill, but the nature of the sport means it can never deny its absurdity. In other words, it's fun. A perfect antidote to most other sports, which are increasingly descending into excessive joylessness.
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