Darts: Lack of Power at the Beeb Left Me in the Dark

The BBC is playing with my head. Here’s Ray Stubbs welcoming me to the greatest darts tournament in the world at Lakeside, Surrey. And here’s a quick shufty at the runners and riders - Mervyn King, favorite Ray van Barneveld and any number of Dutchmen. I don’t like this, Mummy. Where’s Phil the Power? Nowhere. He don’t exist, Sonny. He’s been wiped clean from the slate, like your worst EastEnders nightmare.

Ray introduces his colleague, the legendary chucker Bobby "Don’t-mess-with-me-cos-I’m-gruffer-than-a-gruffalo’s arse" George. What is it that makes this tournament here at Lakeside so special, Bobby-Me-Good-Mate, he asks. "You’ve heard of Richard Gere," Bobby answers elliptically. "Well this is different gear. It’s just the best."

But there is an elephant in the room - the great unmentionable. Actually, the elephant isn’t in the room, which is the problem. Phil "The Power" Taylor, aka the Don Bradman of darts, is not here, and however much the BBC insists that this is the world’s greatest darts do it’s nothing without The Power.

The more I watch the more I’m convinced Stubbsy is trying to hypnotize me. He’s looking into my eyes, dangling a watch on a chain. "There is no Power. The Power is just a figment of your imagination."

I liked my darts as a kid - Jocky on the oche, the Crafty Cockney, even John Lowe who seemed too boring for a nickname. Actually, I was a champion in my own right. I used to play my dad every Sunday for a tiny trophy but after nine weeks we ran out of inscription space and I lost interest in darts.

Until last year, when I had the honor of interviewing Phil the Power, a genius of flight and poise with the most incredible calculator for a brain. Any number I came up with, he could turn into a three-dart finish. He convinced me darts should be introduced to the maths GCSE syllabus. Sample question: "Eric is at the oche. He needs 161. How can he get there in three darts?" (answer below). The Power was a true sportsman - he trained for six hours a day and lost up to three stone to reach his fighting weight for major tournaments. He rekindled my passion for darts.

So I’ve started watching again, but remain somewhat in the dark. Last week Phil the Power won the world championship seven sets to nil - a clean sweep televised on Sky. This week there is another championship, on the BBC. Only one thing is different - the players. No Phil the Power, no Colin Lloyd, no nothing. Just a bunch of pantomime dart dames with hair like Rapunzel and names like Dracula and the Wizard. I wait for an explanation from Ray and Bobby but none is forthcoming.

And the quality of the darts? Appalling. The first match, between Ted Hankey and Albertino Essers is an all-time low. Scores of 41, 55, 7, 21, 36. It’s not much better than those matches against my dad. Mind you, the commentary is priceless.

"Ted will be up there thinking don’t cry for me Albertino because he’s coming back." "Certainly his hair has receded since last year" (If he lost any more, he’d have receding armpits.) "You have to be natural in darts, and the trouble is he started to think about it."

Still no mention of The Power. Imagine a Premiership topped by Charlton and Villa with Chelsea scrubbed out. It’s eerie. Eventually, I go to the internet for an explanation and discover the darts world split many years ago. (I reckon the split was over money, my lady friend Diane, who is pathologically uninterested in sport, reckons it was ponytails.) The British Darts Organization fails to confirm either way, but it does provide the thought-provoking (if over punctuated) motto: "You cannot play dart’s without dart player’s". No wonder the BDO is in decline.

I’m becoming obsessed. I tune in to every broadcast hoping to hear the truth. One time The Power is briefly referred to, but the commentators quickly change the subject and it’s as if it never happened. It reminds me of that photograph Stalin had retouched to wipe Trotsky out of history.

So why is the Beeb insisting that the Lakeside world championship is the best? Because it owns transmission rights, and it doesn’t own rights to many sporting events these days. This is the cold war fought out between the BBC and Sky, and the Beeb is being annihilated. Such is its insecurity that it would rather pretend the world’s top darts player doesn’t exist than admit he is not playing in their competition.

Answer: to hit 161, you must hit treble 20, treble 17 and the bullseye.