Darts, I love you

An ode to the game of champions

Over the past year, I’ve read three books about darts. Now, for your pleasure, I’m going to rank them based on how good their titles are:

3: Fear and Loathing on the Oche

2: Heart of Dart-ness

1: Murder on the Darts Board

At this stage, you most likely have a question. Several, in fact. And those questions probably go something like this: “What the hell are you talking about, buddy, what’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Why would I give a solitary damn about darts?”

All relevant points, sure, but let me provide a rebuttal: I’ve been bang into darts for some time — and think you should be, too.

Darts have the potential to operate as an antidote to the stresses of the modern world. They’re a form of meditation. A form of meditation you can do in the pub. My form of meditation.

If you’ve read The Rectangle for long enough, you can probably recognise what’s about to happen now: diving headfirst into a rabbit hole. So let’s do that right now.

To begin, a simple question: what is darts?

Well, it’s a game where you fling arrow-esque hunks of metal at a cork board, but it’s more than that. It’s a cultural product.

Growing up in the UK, darts is everywhere. It’s embedded in society. If you visit pubs, go to friends’ houses, or, really, just exist in any sort of social place — from Butlins to the pool hall — you’ll come across dartboards. It’s one of the biggest sports in the country, with millions watching.

Darts even has its own uniform.

PDC, the governing body, states that competitors have to wear cloth trousers (AKA work trousers), leather shoes, and a collared shirt. Specifically, whatever the hell this collared shirt is.

Despite this popularity, darts was something I never really delved into. Yeah, I’d haphazardly flung a few around, but I never really played — mainly because it was hard and I sucked.

Still do, to be quite honest. Still do.

A lot of that is down to the most widely played darts game: 501. Here, the goal is to reduce that number to exactly zero by hitting the highest possible numbers. But — and here’s the twist — to complete the leg, you need to finish on a double, which is the outer ring on the board.

Someone very helpfully put this diagram together. Whoever you were, and wherever you are, I hope life has blessed you in a myriad of ways.

Now, if you’ve never thrown a dart before, let me tell you something: it’s way fucking harder than it looks. Trying to hit a double in any circumstance is tough, doing so while engaging in gymnastic mental maths and under the pressure of closing requires a level of fortitude and skill I simply don’t possess.

So I didn’t bother. Yet this changed in 2023.

I was in London, visiting family, and popped over to see my aunt and uncle. He’s an avid dartsman and ended up showing us a series of fun-focused party games that require less skill than 501. By the time I went back for Christmas, my folks had a dartboard of their own and the whole family were playing.

Arriving back home in Amsterdam, one thing was clear: I needed a board of my own.

After convincing my partner it wasn’t just a fad (I agreed to wait for two months before I bought it), I ended up with this beauty:

The delayed gratification feels magical.

During those dead, dart-less months, I had time to read about about the game. And, because of that, you’re going to have to learn as well.

Darts can be tracked all the way back to the Middle Ages with archers cutting up their arrows and throwing them at, uh, things? Barrels and trees? Whatever you could fling things at those days.

The game existed in various forms for centuries, but it was in the 1900s where it came into its own. At the time, games of chances weren’t allowed in pubs, only skilled passtimes, with the goal being to cut down on gambling.

This truce was broken by a publican in Leeds, who allowed people to fling darts to their hearts’ content.

When he was taken to court, the landlord brought along the region’s best darts player. In the courtroom, this skilled champion threw accurate darts, landing several triple 20s, while the court clerk, who was invited to compete, could rarely hit the board.

Darts was in pubs, baby.

What followed was a working class sport that spread throughout the country. There were TV shows, live tournaments, and a raging local scene, but a lot of its modern visibility is down to promoter Barry Hearn, who understood how to package and market the sport as a great night out.

Yet while this pub-like atmosphere can be argued for darts’ popularity, I think it’s something else.

You don’t need a huge amount of space or any crazy equipment to play. A decent board and some darts are all you need, something that can cost under €50. The barrier to entry is low.

This makes it perfect as a non-screen based game you can have in your house that operates both as a socialising tool and a relaxing one. How I use my dartboard most is as a reliever. After I’ve done some work, rather than spending time browsing social media, I stand up and fling some darts.

It gets my body moving and my mind into a flow state.

Do I still suck? Oh, pal, you could barely comprehend how much I suck. But that doesn’t matter. Not one bit.

In a world of constant distractions, of stolen focus, darts are a ray of sunshine, a clear path to mindful thinking.

And they’re fun as fuck.

Darts, I want you to know I love you. Never change. Now, where do I get a custom darts shirt made?