Premier League Darts Nottingham: Phil Taylor vs The Unfathomable Chaos of Existence

Beards, piano, freakpots and strange happenings. The Premier League race is hotting up and its all gone a bit Full Metal Jacket...
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Beards, piano, freakpots and strange happenings. The Premier League race is hotting up and its all gone a bit Full Metal Jacket...


Thelonious Monk was a jazz pianist. Perhaps the greatest. He would attack the piano with abrupt strikes, jarring the keys, creating dissonant harmonies and off beat rhythms. He liked to whack the black and white. He abused, rather than tickled, the ivories. His distinct style was described as Melodious Thunk.

Melodious Thunk. Not a bad way to describe some of the darts we’ve seen recently in the Premier League.

Barney, for instance, delivers nothing but the most melodious of thunks at sisal. Although his darting elegance, the sumptuous, frictionless release of tungsten, evokes more of the Duke; Duke Ellington, than the jerky beauty of Thelonious Monk.

Barney plays Kevin Painter in Nottingham this week. And Painter is just about grasping on to the coattails of the Duke of Darts. He’s got 6 points, Barney has 8. Everyone is within two points of each other - except Phil Taylor who has essentially qualified - it’s all still up in the air. But things should make a little more sense after Nottingham.

Adrian Lewis and James Wade face off once again. Wade dominates the head to head and seems to have a psychological advantage over Lewis. After their last encounter in Glasgow, Wade waxed lyrical about the abundant talents of Lewis, describing him as ‘Freakpot’; some of the things he can do are plain freakish.

The only people Lewis called freakish that night were the Glasgow fans; he took a bit of a huff on twitter after his defeat to Wade, complained about the crowd, complained about the abuse he receives on Social Media - all of which are perfectly valid things to complain about - complained, complained, complained; like an observational comedian - What’s the deal with traffic wardens?

Lewis split the difference in his last Premier League outing, he was humped by Hamilton, and then humped Barney. Lewis has done everything but convince in the 2012 PLD. We’ve seen the odd flash of brilliance, but more often than not they’ve turned out to be flashes in the pan. The toilet pan.

We’ll see.

The greatest player ever to melodiously thunk plays Andy Hamilton. It’s Miles Davis vs Jazzy Jeff.

Premier League detractors - such people exist, best to pretend they don’t - describe the league as a glorified exhibition. They are wrong, they couldn’t be more wrong. It is not that long ago darts was struggling for any sort of recognition, now the league fills arenas up and down the land.

Not to mention the money involved. The money that in itself lends the competition gravitas. In Golf you become the Number 1 in the World by earning the most money. This is how they measure success; just like life then.

Moolah, cash, greenbacks, I need a dollah dollah dollah that’s what I need.


They are chucking cash money at the Premier Leaguers. This doesn’t mean anything? Has there ever been a greater incentive to perform, to do something you would rather not do, to leave the cosy embrace of your King Size every morning, than money?

Money makes the world go ‘round.

Anyway they’re wrong the Premier League is ace.

And Phil will probably win all of his games going into finals night -  then he won’t, something weird will happen and he won’t win the league, this is a prediction- so the remaining Taylor matches are not really about Man vs Food, I mean Man vs Man anymore; they are Phil vs the most outlandish capabilities of the human machine.

Every match since week one the thought, “Will he break the highest ever televised average record, tonight?” Has floated across my mind. And yours. And everyone else watching. “Will we get another nine-darter?” This thought every leg that starts with three perfect darts.

It’s Phil vs Evolution.

It’s Phil vs What Are We Capable Of As A Species?

It’s Phil vs The Swirling Unfathomable Chaos of Existence.

Gary Ando The Flying Dream Boy Anderson returns to action this week against the man who kicked his arse in Glasgow.

Simon The Beard To Be Feared The Wizard Whitlock.

I am addicted to a show called Whisker Wars. It is about competitive facial hair growing, or in the parlance of the sport's participants; Bearding.

“Bearding is a sport, a sport of growing, grooming and presenting one’s facial hair.”

I’m a darts fan, if these people want to call Bearding a sport I’m cool with that.

The Phil Taylor of bearding is Jack Passion. Check him out. He’s glorious.


The point is; little did he know it but Simon Whitlock is competing in two sports every time he takes to the oche, The two finest sports on the planet (OK, OK, maybe not) Darts and Bearding.

He is a multi-discipline Champion. And Ando’s just back, and Whitlock got whooped 8-0 from Wade last week. And the whole Bearding thing makes Whitlock seem all the more impressive.

How can the hairy one lose?

Whatever happens; the thunk of tungsten on sisal will be melodious.

You can follow Lenny on Twitter @Lenny_Boyle, and read more of his words about Darts at Tectonic Tungsten

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Phil Taylor's Average of 117.35 Sticks Two Fingers Up At The Doubters

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