23/06/2023
Smoke and flashing lights fill the arena as the gladiator enters. The crowd roars. The slow, inexorable walk to the centre of the killing field begins. The frenzy builds to a crescendo as the warrior arrives. But this is no fight to the death. No swords will be crossed, punches thrown. Nay dear reader, it is of arrows and the man of which I sing. The fighter – a balding man in his forties. The battle – darts.
Once the domain of the pub, where having a pint in your hand and a few in your belly made you a more able competitor, the sport (yes, sport) has become more professional over the years. Sports drink in place of booze and an athlete’s build in place of a plumber’s. If you’re a competitor that is.
A spectator’s experience is still the boisterous, booze-filled bonanza of yesteryear. As the compere’s voice booms “one hundred and eighty!”; the raucous crowd, decked out in their best banana (or hot dog, or Wizard of Oz cast) suits erupt. Beer is chugged, chants and songs reverberate around the room, and the party atmosphere moves up another notch. But don’t take it from me, rather read all about what seems like the ultimate spectator sport in this week’s headline article.
Read it at the link the bio!
