Darts, travel, and the people who live for the oche

Meet the hosts

Evan Waterman (Jersey Shore, NJ) started podcasting in April 2010. John Ronnholm (Wayne, NJ) is a left-handed player with nine years on the oche. David Hascup (Laurence Harbor, NJ) serves as ADO Communications Director and USA Dart Club President. Adam "Thorn" Smith (Portland, Oregon) writes for BullsEyeNews Magazine and has traveled to more than 50 countries since he began playing darts in 2005.

The Thorn Report has become a staple for anyone who follows tungsten tales across borders. Each episode unpacks tournament results, player form, and the kind of behind-the-scenes chatter that never makes the official commentary. The hosts bring a mix of sharp analysis and genuine affection for the sport, whether they are breaking down a Lakeside classic or a late-night exhibition in a Granada bar. It is the kind of show that treats a first-round upset with the same enthusiasm as a world final, because every leg tells a story worth telling.

Darts travel is not about five-star hotels and charter flights. It is about bouncing across Lake Nicaragua in a lancha with a set of darts in your backpack, hunting for a board in a San Juan del Sur cantina, or finding yourself in a doubles match with someone you met ten minutes earlier. The blog captures these moments without gloss, reporting from places where the oche is a strip of tape on a concrete floor and the crowd is three deep before the first dart is thrown.

The podcast archive stretches back to April 2010, and the back catalogue reads like an oral history of modern darts. Early episodes captured the pre-social-media era of the sport, when news travelled through word of mouth and a few dedicated forums. Later seasons document the rise of new federations, the shifting balance of power in the WDF, and the growing footprint of the game in countries that had never sent a player to a major before.

Player interviews form the backbone of the programme. Guests have included world champions, master of ceremonies figures, and the kind of dedicated journeymen who drive eight hours to play a regional open. The conversations tend to veer away from stock answers and into the real texture of life on the circuit: the long drives, the missed doubles that haunt a player for weeks, and the friendships that outlast any tournament run.

The travel dispatches from the WDF World Cup are a highlight of the blog. Rather than simple match reports, these pieces capture the atmosphere of a multinational gathering where language barriers dissolve at the throwing line. Readers get the sights, sounds, and occasional chaos of an event where hundreds of players from dozens of countries converge, each carrying their own darts culture and their own ambitions.

A recurring theme across both the podcast and the written stories is the idea that darts is a passport. Walk into a pub in Ometepe, a sports bar in Barbados, or a community hall in Wales, and the shared language of the game opens doors that would otherwise stay closed. The blog has documented this phenomenon across continents, proving that three tungsten arrows can bridge almost any cultural difference.

The show marked its second anniversary with a special episode that looked back on two years of interviews, travel, and commentary. Since then, each August brings a reflective programme that revisits standout moments and favourite guests. These anniversary editions have become a tradition in their own right, giving listeners a chance to reconnect with voices and stories that defined a particular season of the podcast.

Video content supplements the audio episodes, offering a visual window into the places and faces that define the project. From short clips of a volcanic backdrop on Ometepe to longer segments filmed at tournament venues, the video library adds another dimension to the reporting. The footage is unpolished in the best sense, prioritising authenticity over production value and letting the locations speak for themselves.

The blog posts are not daily news updates but considered pieces that might span months of travel and reflection. A single entry can stitch together experiences from Nicaragua, Barbados, and a rainy weekend in Blackpool, finding the common threads that connect darts communities everywhere. It is slow-form journalism for a fast-moving sport, and the archives reward readers who take the time to dig deep.