Links:

Gordon’s Blog
DJ’s Blog

Several members of the US entourage were also surveying the scene: ADO president Buddy Bartoletta meeting with his Irish counterpart, Jim Widmayer and Robin Curry rooting on Cali West, and Bones and Scott Wollaston watching Brenda Roush. Again, the US came up short on expectations, but for me, meeting all these great people and darts players, I was having personal highlights all day long. Two of these amazing moments produced treasured artifacts that I still carry today.

Slideshow soundtrack. Scroll to control…

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The first came as I sat at the table for Team USA. Trina Gulliver from Team England–the Golden Girl herself, nine time world champion, and history’s greatest lady darts player–came over between matches. “Does anyone have some sandpaper?” said the two time World Cup Ladies Singles champ. “I do,” said I, the unknown darts-travel blogger, and I produced a small square inch of thirty grit from my dart case, handing it to her. Like any other player, she quickly scuffed her tips and returned it with smile and thank you. “Would you mind signing it for me?” With a bigger smile, she quickly autographed the back of the sandpaper. Now it was my turn to smile–as a big fan of ladies darts, it is a treasured piece of my darting memorabilia. It has traveled the world with me, proudly tucked away in the dart case.

My dart case was given to me by Darin “Big Daddy” Young gave me at Pacmania 2, an event sponsored by world boxing champ and darts lover, Manny Pacquiao. I already considered many of the items in my case to be precious–far more for sentimental than monetary value. By the end of this World Cup, and this journey, my dart case would become a museum of memorabilia with darts parts gifted to me from people across the globe–like flights from Iceland, Ireland, or Spain. But, my most valuable objects–two sets of darts that I’ve had since 2006, when I lived in Uruguay–were far away, back home in Portland, Oregon. And, here’s why…

Before leaving on this epic three month, two continent adventure, I contacted Royal Caribbean to ask if there was a dartboard aboard the ship–the trans-Atlantic cruise that would take me from Spain to Panama at the end of October. The agent I spoke with said, “No, no dartboards.” Then she added, “and I wouldn’t bring your darts aboard either.” I said, “What? Why?” She responded, in all seriousness, “the port security in Palma de Mallorca may take them and not return them.” Well, after some pointless arguing about such ridiculousness, I decided it wasn’t worth bringing my cherished world-traveling steel tips and risk losing them forever. Besides, we all know what a potential pain it is to get darts through airport security, even in checked-in baggage, and, since I would be crossing so many borders on so many planes, trains, and vehicles, I decided to leave my prize possessions at home. Instead, I packed my interchangeable soft-steel tips, a light, cheap set of darts that I wouldn’t mind having confiscated–plus, I could play on any sisal or plastic boards I came across. Which leads into my second amazing moment of the day…

Afternoon matches ended early, and I decided to head into Castlebar to search for more dart bars. Again, Maria from Team Iceland joined me, and again, we bumped into Jerry van Loan on the shuttle, up to the same thing. Waltzing around Castlebar, we passed many other players and teams taking in the local life–we kept crossing paths with Team Japan, to a flurry of hellos and bows and laughter.

After asking around, we found the bar called Tolster’s. Inside was charming, and quiet, save a handful of regulars, all enjoying a Guinness and conversation about the latest football, rugby or boxing match. It was still Arthur Guinness week, and posters and balloons decorated the pub. The owner himself poured our pints. There was one dartboard, in its own nook, and we began to play. As always, I checked out the bar darts, and, preferring a heavier weight, I stashed my soft-steel tips for some of Tolster’s, a front-loaded silvery set, perhaps thirty grams. Now, I’ve been struggling with the yips for a couple years, but this set of darts seemed to fly right for me. I enjoyed them so much, it gave me an idea–perhaps the owner would sell them to me! It turns out that this set of darts belonged to his son, who just happened to walk in. After a quick explanation–”I’m a darts-travel writer for DartsAroundTheWorld, I love these darts and would like to buy them”–he not only agreed, he offered them to me, green Irish flights and all. These darts–a gift from quaint little Castlebar, home to the 2011 WDF World Cup–not only survived the port security of Palama de Mallorca, and many other customs agents, but they have traveled the world with me. And, like my sandpaper signed by Trina, these darts are one of my most prized “dartifacts”.

We played for an hour before hoping the shuttle back to the Breaffy House just in time for the end of the evening sessions.

By now, I was using my massive glass stein–the gift from Team Iceland–as my primary drinking vessel. I took it to dinner that night, a big man with a big mug and a bigger smile, holding my new Irish darts. I wandered over to Team Canada’s table and enjoyed a fabulous rendition of “O Canada”, a few notes emphasized with intoxicating enthusiasm. I met the youth players for South Africa. I witnessed a flex-off between Scott Wollaston, a cannonball of a man and professional alligator wrestler, and Daniel Racoveanu, who’s not just a darts champion, but a professional body builder and athletic legend in Romania . My new Irish darts got caught in a photo with Scott Waites, current BDO champ, Maria, Brenda, and Arthur Hook, a renowned darts historian. And, I watched a few hands of poker. Eventually, I needed to refill my Viking-sized mug…

The bartender noticed my darts. “They look familiar,” he said, and I told him the story. Smiling he said, “I know the owners. The gents at Tolster’s are as good as they come.” I grinned and took his picture with my Irish darts and Icelandic mug. Near as I could tell, everyone in Ireland is about as kind as they come–it’s one of the friendliest, most hospitable cultures you’ll ever have the pleasure to know.

Far from bedtime, the night flew by as one big party ensued. People danced, played, and drank all night. I’m pretty sure Little Richard Ashdown did a rousing cover of the BeeGees’ “Staying Alive”, and DartsAroundTheWorld did another live podcast in the wee hours. Finally, it was time to sleep.

Tomorrow was Saturday, when all the finals took place, followed by the closing ceremonies. It was only the twelfth day of my adventure, and the World Cup was coming to its climactic conclusion.

I couldn’t have been happier–and I still had eighty days and more than a dozen countries to go…

Over and double out.

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It was Wednesday, September 21st, the first day of events at the WDF 2011 World Cup of Darts in Castlebar, Ireland. After getting as much sleep as possible, the players were up early, enjoying another full Irish breakfast buffet. Today, the games would begin, starting with the Men’s Team, Women’s Pairs, and Girl’s Singles. All of the event finals would take place on Saturday, the final climactic day of the World Cup.

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Brenda and I finished eating, and went our separate ways–her, to warmup for her opening match paired with teammate Cali West, and me, to cover and report on everything I could see, snap, soak up and share. The WDF board, Irish Darts Organization members, and event staff were busily making final preparations. Players were either gulping the last of their coffee, changing into their uniforms, or already at the practice boards in the event hall. I found Bones, and we walked to the sports arena. On the way, I showed him a few shots from the night before–like meeting Marcio Dorado Pugliessa, newest member and first time WC attendee from Brasil. It’s new country to darts and a nation close to my heart because of my past in neighboring Uruguay plus some new friends, Bob Shoe and Nathan Perks, who are building the sport in Sao Poalo and other Brasilian towns. Marcio knew he was a long shot to win, but nonetheless, he was as thrilled just to be here. Bones, David and I also had the pleasure of powwowing with Jacques Nieuwlaat, the other PDC-BDO-WDF master caller, along with ‘Little’ Richard Ashdown.

Bones and I were armed with audio recorders, ready to collect as many sound bites and interviews as possible for DartsAroundTheWorld. As we passed the parking lot, approaching the sports arena entrance with a parade of players and personnel, we passed a car with darts on the license plate–a sure sign that dart lovers were about. I grabbed a picture of three official chalkers in their appropriately green shirts. We found our way to the USA table, next to team England, and I snuck a shot of Brenda’s Maryland dart case in the foreground, and in the background, the most famous team there–including Trina Gulliver, Deta Hedman, Martin Adams, Martin Atkins, Tony O’shea, and Scott Waites. I also found team Japan’s table, meeting Jinta Serizawa, owner of L-style, and I loved bowing with the rest of the Japanese players. Finally, I was pleased to meet the missing piece of team Iceland, Maria Steinunn Johannesdottir, the only player absent in Reykjavik a week earlier–another new friend.

While the events were underway, I began floating around the arena looking for more photos and interviews. I watched the US Men battle Austria, while the US Women took on Latvia. Being a big fan of ladies darts, I spent time watching the better half of the darts world–I was particularly smitten with the young Russian player, Valeria Shvets, the 13 year-old playing as an adult for Team Russia, in place of Russia’s most famous lady darter, Anastasia Dobromyslova-Martin, who, like the USA’s Stacy Bromberg, was not allowed to participate for some annoyingly silly PDC vs BDO/WDF qualification rules. While those two world champs were missed, others, like Valeria, had the opportunity of a life time. Another amazing moment came when I met team India, and their 14 year-old boy, Sarthak Patel, also playing as an adult, and why not–he happened to be the reigning champion of darts in India! I met many people from around the world that morning–Romania, the Bahamas, Belgium, Wales, and Canada to name a few–but I was most excited to meet the ladies of team Iran, dressed in red, white and green uniforms, and wearing simple black burkhas as their culture requires. I never expected to see dart players from Iran, let alone women players, Sonia Gharghy and Mahboobeh Pourmoghadam–I eagerly asked them about darts in their country: men and women must practice in separate buildings, usually someone’s home. After my interview, they asked to take a picture with me. Like any dart loving American, I put my arms up to wrap around their shoulders for the shot, but they quickly reminded me that their religion prohibited any physical contact. So, the four us stood, a few inches of air between each of us, hands behind out back–I couldn’t have been more proud or cherish a picture any more than that one. It was my second biggest highlight that day. I hope, some day, that I can visit Iran and see them again.

The day continued to bring me amazing new friends, as I spent the day interviewing and spectating. At lunch, I met with more, and got to visit with Brenda’s parents–the cutest and most supportive couple you’ll ever meet, who attend almost all of their daughter’s major events.

By late afternoon, back in the venue, the days events were winding down, and more and more players were out of uniform and in their casual clothes. I wanted to go see Castlebar, and search for the local darts bars–I convinced Maria, from team Iceland, to join me. Boarding the shuttle, we found Jerry van Loan, one of two New Yorkers on Team USA–a fabulous player and first timer on the national team; he too was excited to explore the town.

Castlebar is small, and after strolling a few blocks, capturing the local scene in my camera, we bumped into Peta, Iceland’s other female. The four of us found ourselves back at Bosh, the bar from the night before. After a pint or two, we got directions to two local dart taverns: Flynn’s and The Harp. I felt my travel-darts pulse rate rise, and after a short walk, the four of us descended upon Flynn’s.

With a few boards in the back, past the bar and billiard’s table, I quickly did my thing–taking pictures of the place and any memorabilia or bar darts I could find. Most people in town were aware of the World Cup, knowing many an international dart player might amble in. Jerry, Maria and Peta and I played a few legs with a few more pints, and I got to know them all better.

While Maria and Peta were happy with Iceland’s performance thus far, Jerry was a bit frustrated with himself and Team USA–a team with high expectations. I could also see that Jerry was a bit curious about me and my journalistic shtick, traveling and finding the hidden corners of darts around the world. By the time our co-ed round robin was done at Flynn’s, I could see Jerry was beginning to enjoy himself, his frustration leaving. And, that’s what lead to my favorite memory of this day…

Thanking Flynn’s bartender and some new local acquaintances, we moseyed outside and down the block to The Harp, a smaller, yet equally authentic Irish pub. There was one dartboard in the corner, already in use by a handful of young darters. Thanks to me and my gregariousness, it wasn’t long before they found out that three national players were hoping to play a few friendly games. Their eyes lit up with excitement, thrilled at the chance to play top notch darts, to test themselves against some of the best, and hopefully win some bragging rights.

I was happy to watch and take pictures. Jerry, on the other hand, was excited to play. One fellow, named Dean, was up for the challenge. Within moments, they had corked and were throwing for big triples–Jerry hit a ton80 on his second turn. Peta, Maria and I smirked, and Dean and his friends got their first taste of Jerry’s talent. Dean’s friends gave a cheer and a jeer to their friend. Dean, a solid shot himself, tried to rise to the challenge, while Jerry delivered his best darts. And that’s when I saw the highlight of my day.

There’s a moment in darts that we all love. It’s better than a newbie’s first double bull, or a pro’s first nine-darter. It’s stronger than the feel of winning a tournament or the chance to play a world champ. It’s nothing more than the simple pure joy of the game…and that’s what I saw between Jerry and Dean. Jerry’s frustration from the World Cup was gone, he was throwing like a champ again, smooth, calm, confident, but more importantly, with that glimmer in the eye of “I love this game.” Dean had it too, putting maximum focus into every dart, smiling ear to ear after each throw, regardless of the outcome. It’s these moments–when the joy of darts is most pure–that I love and look for. To me, it was as beautiful as the World Cup.

Jerry had such fun, he even asked about local shoots–he wanted to play more! Dean told him about a tournament tomorrow night with a hundred players at a local club, a twenty minute walk away. Jerry was intrigued, considering it seriously, with that twinkling eye, the love of darts returned, and the thought of playing Castlebar’s best locals. He asked Dean, “How many blocks away is it from here?” Dean said, “What’s a block?” A brief quizzical looked crossed all of our faces…more on that in a moment.

Darts brings people together, from all walks of life. Today, I found many examples. Marcio, the Brazilian, an unknown player, shares stories with world champs and master callers. Valeria and Sarthak, the Russian and Indian teenagers who already carry their nation’s flag. The Iranian women, Sonia and Mahboobeh, whose love of darts overcomes strict cultural rules of conduct. And, finally, Dean and Jerry, an Irish and American, who shared the purest form of joy for the game in a small pub in Castlebar.

Jerry, Peta, Maria and I caught the last shuttle back to the Breaffy House,and barely made it before dinner’s end. Vegar, from Norway, was laughing it up with Jinta and Team Japan. In the banquet hall, I snapped a picture of Maria and Team Isle of Man–the island between Ireland and Britain that was competing as a sovereign nation. Outside I dusted off my Spanish with Team Catalunya–a region of Spain that was also competing as its own country. Martin Adams of England, Robert Wagner of Norway, and several people I had yet to meet were all enjoying drinks and stories together.

I just stood there, smiling, and thinking about how great today was, and taking pictures.

Around midnight, I was in the lobby, waiting for Evan and Irete to skype over to Bones and Hascup to start another podcast live from the World Cup. A facebook friend request and message appeared on my laptop from Dean Michael Cleary: “Thorn, tell Jerry the answer is about 15 blocks–I looked up what a block is on Wikipedia!” You see, Ireland is so old, its roads born of out ancient foot paths between villages and shires, that block-grid systems don’t exist, so the Irish give directions in time not distance. Dean didn’t know what a city block was, but he found out, wanting to make sure Jerry found his way to the local shoot tomorrow. Jerry didn’t make it. But last week, Dean found me again through facebook, and told me that he was moving to the Big Apple to work for his brother’s company. It’s my hope that Jerry reads this, contacts me, and I put him in touch with Dean. Along with all my memories of the World Cup, nothing would make me happier than to imagine another match–of pure joy–between Jerry and Dean.

Over and double out.

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Results from White Mountain, and interview with Andrea Taylor, a participant in the Bullathon World Record attempt, and our second installment in Building the Perfect Darter…What sort of player are you?

With a packed show booked for this week, we wasted no time getting to the point with Max Wurzer of Action Dart League and Phil Morehead of Sinister Darts. Their excitement for what is happening on the west coast as well as the whole country is contagious. They have both been working hard to breed interest in the game and it shows in tonight’s interview. We took a quick break to talk to our good friend, Richard Ashdown, to get all up-to-date with what is happening overseas, including the Premier League. We then moved on to Rhen Fuentes who is facilitating the Pacmania III tournament. He was able to give us the full details and we may even have some sort of coverage happening for this event so look out for that. Finally, the producer himself L. David Irete, brought on founders of The House of Darts, Erin Harms and Doug Babbitt. Speaking of excitement, they are bringing a whole new image to the game with their great new idea of developing a venue(bar) which will host Steel-Tip and Soft-Tip darts. They will be encouraging the amateurs as well as the pros to raise the level of their game and to broadcast these events live to the world. Not only that, they are looking to franchise this idea. Look out darts world, the west is back and ready to rock!

Links:

Sinister Darts
Action Dart League

(Image above provided by www.carbonesmonterybar.com

Slideshow soundtrack, scroll to control:

The following morning, September 20th, 2011, was the official first day–the opening ceremonies would take place later that afternoon. But, Brenda and I started with the dining hall buffet in a room filled with new faces from around the globe. Thirty nine countries were attending the event–the eighteenth World Cup, held every two years since 1977. Colorful characters in national colors were everywhere, all enjoying a smorgasbord of Irish breakfast. Brenda and I decided to explore the grounds of the Breaffy House, and enjoyed the rest of the morning in the greenery of the sprawling campus, clicking pictures of ponds, horses, plants and people we happened across–people like Ireland’s Arthur Hook, a long time darts promoter, historian, and collector of darting antiquities. He told us many a story.

By late morning, Brenda and I went separate ways to see other friends. Bones and I hooked up for some coffee in the lobby bar. Without any events tonight, players were already hitting the pints, mingling and reminiscing about World Cup memories gone by. We decided to scout out the playing area–a huge open convention hall in the back of the resort.

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Entering the World Cup playing hall was like entering a temple. A few dozen players were using the practice boards in the corners, but overall the place felt empty–like the calm before a storm. Flags from every country were draped around the arena between each board. Scores of chairs were lined up, waiting to be filled by the teams and spectators at the opening ceremonies. Bones and I slowly strode down the aisles, trying to identify every flag, until we reached the stage. And there it was, the World Cup Trophy itself. We spent several minutes taking pictures of the trophy, the stage, and even had the chance to talk with Robert “The Magician” Wagner, top Norwegian and BDO pro, and Martin “Wolfie” Adams, the current BDO champion. And I saw another friend I met in Vegas, Vegar Elvevoll, the other top shot for Norway.

David Hascup appeared, and the three of us from team DATW threw a few legs on the practice boards. David and Bones told me about their trip over from the US, and I told them about mine via Iceland, Scotland and Northern Ireland. While I was galavanting around the globe, they were traveling with Team USA–those of us that know the players on this year’s roster know that it’s guaranteed fun. Plus, Buddy Bartoletta, ADO president, and David Hascup, ADO webmaster, had recently been appointed to the WDF board as the new vice president and webmaster. Meanwhile, Bones got the honor of being team captain for the American ladies. We were all mutually jealous. Eventually, we headed back to the main dining hall for lunch, and the whole team filled me in on their trip across and their morning so far.

Team Iceland had arrived, and I quickly caught up with some of my friends from Reykjavik–a few of them were yet to arrive. I sat with them, and Einar supplied the uncontrollable laughter again. I also strolled around the hall taking pictures of different teams, talking and eating, a ritual that we would all repeat in unison every lunch and dinner–one big international celebration twice a day. And this is the spirit that embodies the WDF World Cup of Darts.

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Unlike the PDC’s World Cup, the WDF World Cup truly has that Olympic feel. There’s no money to be won, just glory. It’s not just two men, it’s a team of men, women, and youth players. Countries that could never compete at the PDC level are welcome to join the WDF and have their chance to play the world’s best darting nations. And, everyone shares that feeling of peace and harmony, regardless of ability or background.

Mid-afternoon, I bumped into Hascup again, who was beaming with pride. If you know David, you know he’s a very patriotic American, which, to me, makes this story all the more powerful–a perfect example of how darts can bring people together, regardless of their differences. David told me that Team Iran had just met with Team USA–two countries who, sadly, have governments with big political differences these days. The Iranians presented a large gold medallion to Team USA with words to these effect, “The people of Iran consider the people of America to be our friends and family, despite the political divisions between our governments. This medal is a symbolic gift of our true feelings.” It was one of the more powerful moments of brotherhood I witnessed at the World Cup. Now I was beaming with pride too.

As afternoon wore on, more players began to disappear, heading back to their rooms to don their opening ceremony attire. I, meanwhile, continued to wander the grounds in a bit of a euphoria. Around five o’clock, the teams began to stream into the playing hall, everyone dressed to the nines, looking fine in their national colors. It was like a red carpet moment at the Oscars, and I got plenty of pictures of fun mixtures of folks from around the world–Team Barbados with Deta Hedman, Bones and Hascup with Team Japan, and so on and so forth. I met “Little” Richard Ashdown, English master caller and co-emcee of the World Cup–along with Jacques Nieuwlaat from the Netherlands. I met Roy Price, president of the World Darts Federation.

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But eventually, Bones and I seated ourselves up front, with cameras ready to snap away at every opening ceremony moment. The show started with a hush from the crowd, as a young man took the stage to sing an emotional, tear-jerking a cappella version of “Ireland’s Call”. When he finished, the roar of the crowd was beyond description. The host country had done an impeccable job preparing for this event, and everyone was thrilled to take the stage, wave their flags, and prepare for the coming days of battle–and brotherhood–on the oche.

Over the next few weeks of Thorn Reports, I’ll be concentrating on this event, the power of the World Cup, and show you how the world comes together through the sport of darts. But for now, just enjoy the song, the pictures, and share in the joy of the opening ceremonies of the 2011 WDF World Cup of Darts.

Over and double out.
—————————-
Somehow, I got hold of Bones’ pictures as well. The photos in this weeks Thorn Report are a combination of his shots and mine–his are the ones that look better. Thanks Bones–it was a pleasure sharing these moments with you.

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At the moment, I was bussing across the island of Ireland–from Belfast, Northern Ireland, to Castlebar, Republic of Ireland–snuggled against the window with my camera, counting the forty shades of green in the countryside. Cities disappear quickly in this part of the world, replaced by rolling hills of grass and sparse pockets of trees, carved into puzzle pieces by gushing creeks, ribbons of road, and endless miles of hand-stacked rock walls that separate farms and cottages. Sheep speckle the fields like white sprinkles on green frosting, with the occasional chocolate horses or milk cows grazing in between. Everything feels old and wise–the mossy bridges, roundabouts and ruins, the stone churches and castles, the quaint villages and town markets we pass through. The sky has a shade of grey for every green, rain is frequent and moody, and yellow and blue rarely come out to play. But when the sun shines, legends come true, and Ireland glows with gold, rainbows and green, a scenery as warm and wonderful as the people themselves.

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The Irish people have a long and storied past. With an Irish bar in every city on earth, their hospitable kindness is world famous, yet at home they have faced many threats over the ages: the Celts, Norse Vikings, Normans, the English, famine, even each other. In fact, it was less than a century ago that civil war turned one island into two countries.

Two hours after leaving Belfast, I was still in Northern Ireland, when the bus pulled into Enniskillen, a lovely small town. I had an hour layover, so I promptly wheeled my way across the street from the depot and began asking, “Are there any dart bars near here?” It was lunchtime on a Monday, under a nice sun break, and people were bustling about and easy to approach. Within minutes, I was pointed toward Charlie’s Bar on mainstreet, among other shops and eateries, neatly located between the St. Macartin’s Cathedral and the Enniskillen Castle. I took a pic and slipped inside.

The dark wood interior and low ceilings felt cozy, but the long slender bar had plenty of space and charm. Several booths were filled with locals and families having a spot of sustenance, liquid or otherwise. The bartender soon put a pint in my hand, showing me the Dennis Priestly bar darts. With a tip I smiled as he pointed to the end of the bar where the dartboard hid in a nook. As I threw a few, trying to hit my second ton eighty this trip, the old guys up front began to sing Irish folk songs. It was thirty minutes of pure happiness: darts, Irish music, and a Guinness.

As I left, one old guy said something like, “You like darts.” I smiled and explained, asking, “you wanna be in a article about darts? It’ll be on DartsAroundTheWorld.com,” pulling out my camera. He had a puzzled look, then looked at his buddy, who smiled and looked at me. “Aye, he does,” his buddy said with a smirk. I’m not even sure they know what “dot com” means or what a website is, and I wish the picture turned out better, but nonetheless, it was another magic moment to me. I turned and waved thanks to the bartender, having to twist my rolling luggage to get through the door.

I went back to the depot a different way, clicking a few more photos of the delightful setting. I sat in the sun, waiting outside for the bus, enjoying more light conversation with gentle Irish folk. Soon, I was back on the bus, crossing the border into the Republic of Ireland, still several hours from Castlebar and the World Cup. I dug out some snacks from my satchel, munching as the greenery and scenery scrolled by. The blue turned to grey, and water wrinkled across my window in rivulets. I got drowsy and dozed off.

When I woke, we had crossed the island and were starting to wind down the valleys to the rugged edge of the west coastline. Like a scene from Tolkien, the pelting rain and waterfalls flowing down the cliffs reminded of home and Oregon. After another hour of increasing grey and fading green, we arrived in the Castlebar bus station. After a short albeit exciting taxi ride, I stepped out the foot of the Breaffy House Resort, the venue for the 2011 WDF World Cup of Darts. The Breaffy facade was like a castle in a kingdom, a sprawling modern hotel surrounded by gardens, with large halls for catering, conferencing, and special events. The place was teeming with people and players from around the darting world, bedecked in colors and symbols of their nations.

And, who was there but Team USA, having just arrived as well. At the doors of the Breaffy, for the first time since she invited me at the Oregon Open in April, I gave Brenda Roush–my reason for being here–a big hug. A bit in disbelief, I shook hands with John “Bones” Ronnholm and David Hascup of Team DATW, both of whom I hadn’t seen since January in Las Vegas. And, for the first time, I met Cali West, the other US female, her guest, Robin Curry, and Buddy Bartoletta, president of the American Darts Organization. The rest of the team–Larry Butler, Jim Widmayer, Jerry Van Loan, and Scott Wollaston–were already out and about, but we’d catch up with them soon enough.

Everyone was hungry, and I quickly checked in to my room so we could all go check out some dinner in downtown Castlebar. Swipe key in hand, I threw my bags on my bed, tucking the necessities–money, passport, camera, darts–into my pockets, taking just enough time to appreciate the luxurious room. A short shuttle ride later, we were in the charming streets of Castlebar, looking for a nice place to eat. We found it, at a fine restaurant and classy bar called Bosh.

Filling up two round tables perched on beer barrels, we met the owner who brought us drinks and menus. Toasts were raised, hors d’oeuvres were ordered, and travel stories were exchanged. Even more excitement came with conversations about the World Cup, more beverages, and some excellent entrees. Of course, I interrogated the owner about dart bars in Castlebar–even though I was at the World Cup, I still intended to search this town and discover the local darts scene. He said, “For starters, we have one here,” as he pointed to the square case mounted on the wall in the opposite corner, and he took me in for a closer look. I told him, “You just made the Thorn Report.” He smiled and said, “The next pint is on me, mate,” in that warm Irish accent. “Sláinte!” I said, the Gaelic word for “cheers”. Setting down a tall dark Guinness, with a thick creamy head, he told us that this was the week of Arthur Guinness Day, to celebrate the creator of the infamous brew. Every bar and restaurant in Ireland was offering specials all week. It was a special week to be in Ireland indeed. He also told me the names of a few dart pubs in town.

After dinner and some delightful desserts, it was time to return to the World Cup Eve antics at the Breaffy House. It was the day before the opening ceremonies, and despite a pandemic of jet lag, most people had their juices–and cocktails–flowing. Boisterous songs and conversations filled the bars, lobby, dartboards and dance halls. Upon our return to the hotel we found Scott Wollaston, Team USA’s most colorful character and a man who’s hard to miss. On cue, Jim Widmayer joined us, another of America’s best players and personalities. Quite casually, I found myself taking pictures of Little Richard Ashdown, master caller for the PDC, BDO and WDF, and reigning world champion of the BDO, Team England’s Martin “Wolfie” Adams, posing with Bones and Hascup. Players and personalities from all over the world were mixing it up like new and old friends at your local weekly blind draw.

For a while, I sat in the lobby, with my drink, just watching. Every so often, a new national team would arrive by bus, shuttle, or cab, streaming through a gauntlet of warm welcomes with their luggage, feeling a brotherhood among countries that is rare these days. I could see their travel-weary eyes light up with pride and excitement.

Before my memory got too blurry that night, I realized what a special event the World Cup would be: an event with an Olympic spirit of peace and competition that celebrates the accomplishments of all–and the power of the sport of darts to bring forty nations together, like forty shades of green.

Over and double out.

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Results from Blazing Saddles, interviews with Shea Reynolds and Patrick Kithi, and more…

Interviews with Chris Bender and Rhen Fuentes, results from Early Bird, St. Pat’s and Dartslive Stage 1, our first League Player of the Week Rob Ross, and more…

This week we invited Bobby George on the program and it had to be one of the most wild and crazy shows we have ever produced. Could it have gone any other way? I think not! Bobby has been one of the most standout personalities in darts as well as one of the most controversial figures in the game. At the very beginning he said the game was boring so to change that he would dress up a bit. He became one of the great players of his time and was recognized for that accomplishment by being reunited with 7 of the other biggest names in darts for the betfred.com League of Legends. He is also well known for his outrageous home aptly named George Hall. He built it with his own hands and it consists of 18 bedrooms, a full bar with a dartboard, a snooker table and all the sports memorabilia that any one person would ever need. Not only that, he has three public fishing lakes where he sells tickets for corporate events on the property. Just when you think that is it, Bobby felt it was important to shape his house like a flight. There is all this and much more on this weeks show. In our short format of an hour, we certainly weren’t able to cover such a complex individual such as Bobby George but there are some great insights in this episode. We really look forward to doing part two and hopefully it will be on American soil. *wink wink*

The capital of Northern Ireland is the second largest city on the entire isle of Ireland  but only a quarter the population of Dublin. The history of this country–like all four nations of the United Kingdom: England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland–is deep. Along with the Republic of Ireland, disputes and resolutions from ancient to modern times have shaped all four cultures in similar yet unique ways. Fortunately, Belfast has found stability and renewed prosperity after decades of violent conflict between politically-driven Protestants and Catholics. I imagined the terror of those days as I passed a classic stone church early on my walk.

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Despite the time it takes to heal such deep wounds, those days are over, and Belfast feels safe and is flourishing. It’s rebuilding its self image, and the city is gentrifying in the new peace. There is a strength to this historic port and the spirit of the people.

I strolled down store-lined boulevards and took several photos of Belfast City Hall, a majestic building even more so in the last diagonal rays of day. I ambled on to the Belfast Waterfront, where the modern curves and corners of glass, metal, and concrete compose a beautiful complex for conferences, arts, and entertainment. I followed the spacious esplanade toward the shipyards and harbor, reading plaques about the Titanic and other bits of Belfast’s maritime past, before I found myself under a statue called the Beacon of Hope, a monument that has become the new icon of the city. Her inspiring form is a towering woman of spiraling steel hoisting a large circle into the sky. She has many nicknames–Nuala with the Hula, the Bell on the Ball and the Thing with the Ring. She reminds me of a lady dart player raising a dartboard, sharing the joy of triumph with the world.

Turning back into town as the sun finally went down, I came across the Albert Clock Tower–a century and a half old memorial and the original symbol of Belfast. I clicked a couple pics. I adjusted my camera’s clock. Of course, throughout my walk I was scanning pedestrians, looking for ones that might know the neighborhood, and I would humbly ask them my usual unusual question, “Are there any bars with dartboards near here?” By the time my two mile loop around Belfast was ending, I had one hopeful hint.

I was looking for a place called The Spaniard. I found the bar a few blocks from the clock tower–it was romantically small yet surprisingly packed with high class people enjoying Sunday evening cocktails. Squeezing through the tables and patrons into the dark cozy interior, I saw it, hanging on the corner wall in the smallest of nooks, divided from the back room by a glass window wall. The aged sisal board was hung too high, with the double three where the bullseye should be, and there was barely enough room to stand at the oche. It clearly wasn’t a board for league play. But, it didn’t matter; I had done it again–I found another trinket of dart and travel treasure to cherish forever. Before throwing a few, I snuggled into the last stool at the bar beside three charming ladies. After they overheard my quick conversation with the bartender–”I’m a darts-travel writer, I’d like to include The Spaniard”–they talked to me with curiosity. Soon, they were buying me drinks, and again I had done it–three new brief but memorable friends because of darts. After they left, I tossed a few bolts until I hit the obligatory bullseye or triple twenty, but no ton-eighties to report from Northern Ireland. Instead, I enjoyed encouraging two more Belfast lasses to throw my darts, waiting for that magic “I did it!” reaction when they hit their mark.

After an hour, with a nice buzz and without much more to stay and play for, I crossed the street and rounded the corner to check out the Merchant Hotel–one of the most luxurious and antiquated buildings in Belfast. Next door is Ollie’s, the adjacent and equally sophisticated night club. I ordered a pint and logged into the internet, catching up on things at DartsAroundTheWorld and posted an update of my trip on my DartsUnderground profile. Once more I made fast friends with some lovely ladies sitting nearby who were also keen to hear about my travel-darts endeavors, and we chatted through a few brews. Later on, when I transitioned to the bar, it happened again with the manager, waitress, and her sister, waiting for the end of the Sunday shift. By closing time, they were offering to drive me around the epic coastline of Northern Ireland, and see the Giant’s Causeway, a bizarre natural formation that is on every world traveler’s bucket list. It was so hard to decline, but i did–tomorrow I was heading straight for Castlebar, Ireland and the 2011 WDF World Cup of Darts.

At midnight, I strode home feeling content with what I discovered in Belfast and I was excited about tomorrow–another long distance travel day, from one end of the Irish isle to the other.

Returning to my room I opened the curtains again. This time, the cityscape was colored in dull yellow street lights on blackened buildings, except for one. In the middle was that oval building with a crisscrossing mesh lattice that resembled a jewel encrusted Fabergé egg, lit up in purple and blue. I now know it’s the Victoria Square shopping complex that helped revitalize Belfast–its unmistakeable glass dome and viewing platform helps Belfast attract more tourists every year.

I stared at it for a while. After a restful night’s sleep, I opened the curtains again, watching the sunrise beam through the dome as the city woke to another semi-grey Monday. I wondered what I would write about this brief but memorable snippet of a stay in Belfast.

I packed my bags and checked out, my bus ticket in a convenient pocket. I had time to eat, and I found a classic diner nearby. I ordered the full Irish breakfast–greasy eggs, buttery toast, glistening sausage sausage and bacon, with black and white pudding, fried tomatoes, mushrooms and beans–a dish I would enjoy repeatedly for the next two weeks.

Then, walking up one more Belfast boulevard, I found my way to the station. Cozy in my seat,  I prepared to see a whole new landscape scroll by. The diesel engine rumbled to life.

In eight hours, I would arrive at the World Cup of Darts, where I would re-unite with Brenda for the first time since the Oregon Open six months before. I’d be a guest of Team USA and cover the event with John “Bones” Ronnholm and David Hascup of team DATW. And, for the next week, I would witness forty teams from countries across the globe–many of whom were once or still are political enemies–competing in peace and celebrating together through the sport of darts.

Over and double out.

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Sharon Butler, Judy Sinnaeve and Anne Kramer returned to the mic as we caught up with them at the Virginia Beach Dart Classic. Being that they haven’t had a show since Stamford, they were backed up with plenty to talk about in this latest installment. Right off the bat, these ladies wanted to discuss what they have been reading in the forums, good and bad. They also talked about the back and forth debate about seeding and give what they think the value is. Sharon reflected on the level of communication back when Larry was about to become the first and only American to win a World Championship. She had to wait an hour or two just to find out by phone what had happened. Now, she can find out instantly by watching on the internet or through social feeds. I had also asked if they had any specific memories of the Virginia Beach Dart Classic. This show has many great stories that everyone should listen to and if you have stories of your own, please send them to host@dartsaroundtheworld.com and maybe they will read them on the next show. Sharon, Judy and Anne thank you for listening and they will talk to you all next time!

The old saying used to be “Virginia Is For Lovers” which i’m sure it is, but now and for a long time it has always been for Darters. Chris and Linda Bender have worked hard to bring the darting community one of the best ADO Sanctioned events you can find. Oh, and did I mention its right on the beach? Yup, this tournament has such a well-rounded appeal for not just dart players, but for their whole family. There are not only events for the traveling player but also they provide youth events all day long. We emailed Chris Bender about setting up at their event only two weeks prior and he immediately said yes. I was astounded by the hospitality at the VBDC and as well as the big welcome from those working at the tournament. One of the biggest highlights besides just being there was their finals board. Each finals event had a crowd of spectators to view the match on the big projection screen so everyone could see. Every tournament should have the same setup so that we can start developing fans of our great sport. So, overall, we had an amazing time and we already have this event on our schedule for next year. YOU SHOULD TOO! A big thank you to Chris and Linda Bender as well as all who worked the control desk and various other areas to make this event possible. We will see you all next year!

[UPDATE] A MESSAGE FROM THE (TOURNAMENT) DIRECTOR

Colin Cosell, who we introduced not too long ago on the show, has created a sample segment that can also be found on our Virginia Is For Darters Episode. He needs all of your help for our new segment with as many hilarious dart tweets that you can find. Make sure you send them all as a screen capture or just in plain text to host@dartsaroundtheworld.com. Thanks!

Today was a travel day, a day of transportation, across Scotland and the Irish Sea. I had one day to get to Castlebar, Ireland, host city to the 2011 WDF World Cup, to meet Brenda “Queen Bee” Roush, my friend and top female on Team USA, and complete the plans we made months before. Fittingly, I now needed to make a bee line for Belfast, Northern Ireland, my third country in a week. I would start the day alone, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

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I woke up tired, after a late night of darts in the port bars of Edinburgh. It was Sunday, and the Caledonian Backpacker bar was quiet with a few young world traveling guests checking theirs laptops over coffees, fruits, yogurts and cereals. I did the same. The streets were similarly silent as I checked out, clunking my bag off the front step onto the sidewalk. At the corner I checked the time–trains left for Glasgow every hour, it was approaching ten o’clock–and a crosswalk puddle splashed as I hurried to the train station.

Despite all my previous travel experience, especially with surface transportation, it’s always a challenge to translate and comprehend all the maps, schedules and signage, figure out the automated ticket machines and turnstiles, how to handle an unhelpful ticket booth worker, or just knowing when and where to get the best deals–after all, at this point, I was making things up as I go. Regrettably, throughout my trip, I made some stupid mistakes that cost me time, money or both. Sometimes, that kind stranger that helps you on your journey just doesn’t appear. But, today was not one of those days.

I would try to purchase a train ticket from Edinburgh to Glasgow, which should be no problem–it’s in the central station of a famous modern city that has heavy international traveler traffic. Instead, the lady at the ticket counter sold me a land-and-sea package deal that got me all the way to Belfast by early evening. It turned out to be two cross country trains, one high speed ferry, a taxi, and a walk.

I boarded the train, nestling down between my gargantuan bag and the window. Minutes before departure, groups of young lads and their dads, their uncles and mates, clad in blue football jerseys, streamed onto the train out of nowhere. They quickly assumed the most comfortable Sunday morning posture possible, talking loudly of football, drinking proudly from their paper bagged beers, passing the flask and hassling each other into a frenzy about today’s big game: Rangers versus Celtics. With deep roots in the historic Protestant and Catholic conflict, it’s a rivalry so big it’s got its own name, “Old Firm“. Nonetheless, I enjoyed eavesdropping on all the banter and antics on that Sunday morning train, reminding me of my days as a soccer commentator in Uruguay.

An hour later, after idyllic scenes of green and sheep, we pulled into the industrial urbanity of Glasgow. As I pulled my bag along the tracks, behind the chanting hordes of Ranger fans pouring out of multiple trains, I noticed a shoe lace loose and stopped, stooping to tie it on a bench. A voice, not quite Scottish, asked me for the time. That’s how I met Des, a scholar of creative language, on his way home to Dublin, Ireland. We became instant friends and temporary travel companions, and Des led me to our connecting train to Stranraer, the main port to Belfast.

We had another hour of Scotland’s rolling rural beauty, this time mixed in with the coast of the Irish Sea, clear blue skies, and conversations with Des. As soon as I said “darts travel writer” he told me about his friend in Dublin that recently started a home darts league, including cameras, live streaming, walk ons, and callers, plus all the usual dart party accoutrements–beer, food, and music. His friend, Rich Boland, a young filmmaker, even arranged to have Sid Waddell commentate the event! I exchanged emails with Des right then and there, with plans to meet with him and Rich in Dublin in two weeks.

Des continued to play guide as we boarded the modern Stena Line ferry. We snagged some fish and chips and a pint of Guinness while the ship prepared to shove off. Passengers everywhere were abuzz about the score of the Rangers-Celtics game, 4-2 Rangers, but Des was more concerned with another huge event that day, Ireland’s gaelic football final between Dublin and Kerry. But, I was too concerned with where I was–zooming across the open Irish Sea, leaving Scotland behind in the late afternoon light, and blazing towards the sunset approaching on the horizon of Northern Ireland’s coast. Of course, I did find time to search the ship for any sign of darts with none to report. Instead, Des and I played make-the-pints-disappear–I think we tied 4-4. Just before we docked, the news spread that the perennial favorite Kerry had lost, 1-11 to 1-12, to the underdogs from Dublin who celebrated their first championship in sixteen years. Suffice it to say, Des was ecstatic.

Today’s journey was almost over, but before parting ways, Des offered to share a cab to the Belfast bus depot–both of us needed tickets; he was going straight through to Dublin, and I needed a ticket to Castlebar and the World Cup for tomorrow. Tickets in hand, we said our gracious goodbyes with plans to connect when I get to Dublin.

With a wave, I walked out of the station, luggage wheels going clip-clop on the sidewalk.

A few blocks of semi-wandering the city later, some friendly local advice lead me to a nice new affordable hotel, the Ibis, in the heart of town.

Entering my room, I dropped my bags and threw open the sixth floor curtain. I found a broad view across the grey and brick colors of Belfast’s old port district, on the outskirts of the now gentrified waterfront. A strange building, looking like a Fabergé egg, was in the distance. There was plenty of late sunlight left–I had time to stroll through downtown and to the waterfront on this quiet Sunday afternoon. And, I could look for dart bars.

I was about to close the curtains, shoulder my satchel and go for it, when something made me remember some trivia: the Titanic was built in Belfast. I stared at the view again–imagining the workers, the crew, the passengers, and the ship that sank one century ago this week. I thought about my own journey so far, today, what’s to come, and how I too had a ticket for a trans-Atlantic sea crossing one month away. Looking out that window, over the birthplace of that famous ill-fated luxury liner, I kind of felt like the king of the world.

Sometimes, it’s not about where you go, it’s how you get there.

Now, to go find a dart bar in Belfast.

Over and double out.

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I decided to change hostels, so after washing and packing up, I checked out of the Edinburgh Central Youth Hostel midmorning, rolling and shouldering my bags out onto Leith Walk, a bus-filled and busy boulevard connecting the central tourist parts of Edinburgh with the port district. Nearby, I found a coffee shop for breakfast and had a couple cups with cream, opened my laptop, checked emails, chatted on DartsUnderGround, and looked up and booked a bed at the Caledonian Backpackers Hostel, located on the Edinburgh Castle’s end of downtown. I had the whole day to kill before I would meet Adam to search for dart bars, and I planned to drag my bags to my new accommodations  before winding my way up to the castle. The waitress told me I could catch a bus to the hostel, saving time and effort–plus, it’s always fun to travel by as many forms of transport as you can. So, I paid my check, looked both ways, and scuttled across the busy boulevard to the bus stop.

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As fate would have it, a man there was opening a new pack of flights. Shocked by this stroke of luck, I lit up a smile, introduced myself, and asked him where he got them. “The darts store is just down the block called Borland’s,” he said. As I took out my camera, I told him about DartsAroundTheWorld, and to check the Thorn Report in a few months because he’d be in it–it was another brief but memorable connection between two people that love darts, and with more luck, he’ll read this some day. Wearing broad grins of pleasant surprise, we shook hands, and I headed for the darts store.

Moments later I was standing in front of the blue and white entrance to Borland’s, a true Scottish darts store. I met the owner and peppered him with questions about the local darts scene, league, and pubs. A family of three came in; mother watched while father and daughter threw a few darts on the practice board–an adorable sight. Another man entered, with the unmistakeable build and grey beard of a long time local leaguer, and I interrogated him as well. It turns out, he was an avid player, buying some flights on his lunch break, and knew all the pubs. He made some calls, and within minutes had arranged for me to meet some bar owners later that night. Wearing those same funny smiles of surprise, I thanked him, he nodded, and was gone with a jingle from the front door. Once again, random connections and kinships were being made through darts.

Before leaving, I decided to buy some flights too. I told the owner I wanted something ‘thorn’ related–something with roses, or red, black, green or white. We couldn’t find anything, but then he suggested something better: a set of blue and white Scottish Flag flights, each with an emblem of one of Scotland’s symbols, the national flower, an equally prickly plant, the thistle. “Thorn” had become “Thistle” for a day. I smiled and so did he; more connections were being made.

Without much time to spare, I thanked him and trundled out of the store. A short bus ride later, I checked into the Caledonian Backpacker’s Hostel–a happening place, filled with the colorful tripster art and the variety of young world-wandering hipsters you’d expect. Then, with my baggage safely stowed and a beer from the hostel bar in my belly, I was back on the streets under partly sunny skies, map and camera in hand, heading for the Edinburgh Castle. I trekked up to the entrance with hordes of international travelers. I’ve seen quite a few castles in my day and was excited to see the inside of another, but with my budget, the proverbial portcullis in the form of a hefty entrance fee blocked my passage. Instead, I wandered around the perimeter and through new streets in Edinburgh, clicking like mad. Eventually, evening arrived, and it was time to meet Adam and visit the dart bars near the port.

Adam wasn’t a dart player when I met him–he told me that his interest and offer to accompany me was really caused by my enthusiasm, and he was curious to come along. But, Adam would soon become one; a darts newbie and a newbie to Scotland were about to spread the game together. Around six o’clock, after a few text messages, Adam met me at the very same bus stop where I first met the man with the flights–just up the block from Borland’s. We boarded the double decker coach, and followed Leith Walk to the waterfront. I expected a typical port side atmosphere–rundown and rusty buildings, industrial and dangerous with dimly lit corners and dark alleys. Instead, it turned out to be an upscale neighborhood, recently gentrified and filled with authentic Scots who prefer a little separation from the tourist masses in Edinburgh’s center. It was a lovely dusk walk along piers, canals and bridges, to the sounds of lapping water and an occasional seagull.

Our first stop was Gladstone’s, an exquisite bar inside a relic of a mission building. Fine billiards tables filled the hardwood floors. Shelves were filled with trophies and placques, and walls were covered with screens and posters of famous football clubs. Classy dartboards and cases lined the walls, and league stats and info were posted. But, the place was empty, other than the barkeep who welcomed us warmly with a pint. “The owner said a darts writer was coming, and after you look around Gladstone’s, he’d like you to go up the street to see him, at the sister pub, Swanny’s, a real local bar,” he explained to the tune of more smiles, more handshakes, and more connections.

A few blocks away was Swanny’s, another nondescript building with a small white dog and grizzled man standing outside–both were clearly regulars. Inside was busier and brighter, as several folks from the neighborhood were indulging in a few too many drinks, games of pool or dominoes, or partially-intelligible conversation with their friends. The owner welcomed Adam and I with another round of beer and showed us the dartboards in the back rooms. We warmed up the well worn board, with it’s classic half-tire wall guard, and I taught Adam the basics–I never get tired of seeing people throw throw their first double bull, big trip, or anything that makes them get that I-did-it smile! When we weren’t playing, the owner told us stories about the bar, the leagues, Edinburgh, and famous boxers and football players. And to me, for all the big tournaments I ever attend, nothing is quite as special as a finding a dartboard in a secret spot that normal tourists would never discover, surrounded by locals and feeling the true culture of a people and place. But, after several hours, with a wicked buzz and hungry tummy, it was time to say thanks and leave these connections behind.

Adam and I bought some late night fish and chips from a late night hole-in-the-wall next door, before boarding the last bus back to the hostel. We laughed and ate, front row on the upper deck, with the magical streets of Edinburgh passing by like a movie.

Adam’s stop was before mine, and we said our goodbyes, but unlike other human connections in the story, we remain in touch–two lives that will be happy to meet when the life, and the game of chance, allow it.

Meanwhile, drunk on happiness as much as beer, I took another late night stroll along the train tracks, below the castle, watching young people prance by looking pretty. Eventually, I staggered up the hostel steps toward my room–tomorrow, with two days to get to the WDF World Cup, I would rise early to catch a train and ferry to Northern Ireland.

But first, I felt like one more beer in the Caledonian Backpacker’s bar–and find one more person, and make at least one more connection, before going to sleep.

Over and double out.

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*One of my favorite bits of Jocky Wilson tribute ‘memorabilia’ is a video of Dexy’s Midnight Runners doing a televised cover of a Van Morrison song called “Jackie Wilson Said”–somehow, on the large screen in the background, Jocky’s picture was mistakenly put up, his big smile presiding over a crowd of young people dancing–a surprsingly fitting tune to remember Jocky’s life, all created of of luck and coincidence. This week’s slideshow soundtrack is a song by the real Jackie Wilson, “Your love Keeps Lifting Me”. It’s a song we all know, and if you listen, you too will find many things that connect us all, and–through Jocky, oches or not–brings us together.

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Jocky Wilson passed away March 24th, 2012. The whole darting world came to a halt as the news spread about Jocky’s death and instead of feeling solemn, everyone celebrated his life and career in darts. Article after article was published saying there was no one like Jocky.  He was the working class hero that everyone could look up to with his unique approach to the game. His stage presence was second to none as we lived every moment with Jocky good or bad. He was a controversial figure as well as a prolific competitor. We will continue to celebrate his life with every dart we throw never forgetting what Jocky meant to our sport. Feel free to leave your thoughts and memories about Jocky here on this post. Continue the legend of Jocky Wilson. We will be down in Virginia Beach this weekend so stay tuned for more live interviews and reports on what is happening. See you then!

This dartboard, decorated in blues and greens by an expert artist, sits in this stunning yet threatened place–where jungles, waterfalls, pumas, monkeys, birds, insects and countless rare species collide with the impact of man. This dartboard waits to help inspire students to save the planet, one scientific discovery at a time. On this dartboard, the bullseye itself is Mother Earth.

I had the honor of being part of this place, this ‘bridge’ in the clouds between man and nature. I have decided that I will help it succeed. And, if you love darts and our planet, you can offer your support in many ways. How important is it for darts players to show our true colors through charity? We do it all the time–for the sick, the injured, the lost and loved, the children, the needy–and our small selfless contributions do great things and bestow a great pride on the global family of darts. This time, I’m asking you to help save our world.

Visit CloudBridge. Watch this video. Consider a contribution. Share the site to all your friends, even beyond your dart world, and encourage people to learn about, share and support this project. Perhaps you know people and potential students that would like to visit, learn from or work with Tom, Linda, and the team at CloudBridge.

I have chosen Cloudbridge to be the focus of my first annual fundraiser. I will be reminding you of Cloudbridge periodically throughout the year. And, I will be covering my visit to Costa Rica in my upcoming articles for DartsAroundTheWorld, BullsEyeNews, and InsideDarts–an amazing experience you don’t want to miss. It would be even better if you were part of the story itself.

I look forward to the day we meet, at some dart tournament somewhere, and you tell me “By the way Thorn, I helped support CloudBridge.”

Over and double out.

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Paul LeBlanc from Toronto, Canada joined us at the head of the show to explain to us what YourLeagueStats is all about. We believe technology is the root of success for darts and this is one big step forward. This system gives leagues all over the world the ability to keep track of stats. For the average dart player to be able to keep up with how he is performing on a weekly basis is very important for growth of his/her skill level. Kissing paper goodbye, YourLeagueStats is now making viewing your stats nearly instantaneous and accessible via mobile phone. Get your league more efficient by joining YourLeagueStats and tell us what you think! We will pass on the feedback to Paul. Later in the show, Richard comes back to give his Ashdown Lowdown which is growing in popularity ever since we first gave it a shot a month ago. Stay tuned for Premier League coverage and more! Notice: Our schedule is changing to every other week on Wednesdays at 9pm EST so we will not be live this coming week. Thank you for all your support and we will see you in two weeks!

Results, announcements, our first product reviews (dartboards), and we finally start talking about hot to manage your game…

My day started at the crack of dawn in Iceland, and went something like this: coffee, Einar’s car, airport. My grateful handshake with Einar was easier to make knowing we’d meet again in a week. Early in my flight from Reykjavik to Glasgow, I caught a glimpse of some volcanoes shifting in the clouds and wondered if they were the ones that halted air traffic in Europe last year. Iceland is surprisingly far from the United Kingdom; even though they are in the same time zone, it’s a four hour flight. Nowadays, it’s a six hour flight because there is a mandatory security stop for international flights entering the United Kingdom.

To my surprise I was in Manchester, England, experiencing the joy of customs. But, somewhere between gates, I stumbled across my first dart board in England–an electronic video gambling game of some kind. I took a photo, smiled, and carried on with my flight.

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I landed in Glasgow around two in the afternoon. I took a bus from the airport to the train station, and found myself downtown at Queen Street Station, with just enough time to peruse George Square, the central plaza in Scotland’s largest city. I secretly kept an eye out for Gary Anderson, The Flying Scotsman, or Robert ‘The Thorn’ Thornton, hoping to catch them hustling from a taxi or train to a dart tournament. Without luck, I boarded a train for Scotland’s second largest and capital city.

Up until now, I had had plans–places to stay, people to connect with, where to go. My friend in Uruguay, Justo, had recently visited Scotland and told me that Edinburgh was a must see, which is why I was heading there, but beyond that, I was now improvising my way until the World Cup.  As I rode the train east, between cobbled stone towns and light green hills of pasture, I knew I would be winging things for the next four days. A kind old lady across from me gave advice about Edinburgh, unknowingly helping me understand a whole new accent. Later, staring out the window watching church spires occasionally float by, I felt a bit like a first year wizard on the way to Hogwarts.

The train arrived in the beating heart of Edinburgh, and I quickly muscled my bags through the bustle up on to the streets. What unfolds to your eyes is like a medieval movie scene on steroids–amazing old architecture everywhere, towers and palaces, castles perched above parks, visitors and locals mixing  in an international cauldron of downtown activity. But, first things first, I had to find a hotel or hostel, and with the old lady’s advice I stumbled around the winding streets until I found the new Scottish Youth Hostel. Adequate and affordable, I plopped my bags in my dorm room, met my Japanese roommate, and headed down to the front desk to ask some questions. As luck would have it, one of the employees–and fellow photo hobbyist–was just getting off work, and offered to show me around saying, “Edinburgh is a photographer’s dream.”

As in many cities, especially world famous ones catering to travelers, the dart pubs have been pushed to the outskirts of the city, so we were headed to the next best thing: Edinburgh’s popular new microbrewery. As we left the hostel, the clouds parted on cue, rainbows grew, and a a tangerine sunset offered epic lighting for our two strolling cameras. The walk lead us back toward the trains, hotels and monuments, dodging taxis and double decker buses, over scenic ornamented bridges, and up, down and around steep narrow streets, alleys and hidden staircases. To my surprise I ran into myself–a towering bronze statue monument of the great philosopher, political economist, father of capitalism, and Scotsman, Adam Smith. Clicking away, we walked on to the pub, where unbeknownst to me, another Adam was about to materialize from thin air.

A new phenomenon that’s wildly popular with the locals, the Brewdog is a craft beer company branching out around Scotland. In Edinburgh, it’s a hole in wall tavern, much like the many we enjoy back in Portland, with all its own beers ranging from typical ales, lagers, and porters to some special brews outrageously high in alcohol content–so much so, one is even served in a shot glass. The place was packed, and as my guide ordered, I snuck into the only open seat, a single stool near the door, asking to share the high thin table with the two young gents already there. I introduced myself. “I’m Adam too,” said the taller of the two spectacled men, “and this is Hugh.”

As you might imagine, we all became fast if temporary friends, and several pints did a disappearing act. Around eleven o’clock and eleven conversations later, everyone was ready to stagger home through the stony maze of streets under the gaze of gargoyles perched above. But, before parting ways, Adam agreed to meet me tomorrow evening to search for the dart bars of Edinburgh.

Meanwhile, I decided to take the long walk home, seeing all I could with my short time in Scotland, watching young people fill the streets with the sights and sounds of city life, and playing with my exposure setting, trying to get a fantastic shot of the glowing Edinburgh Castle levitating in the night sky.

As I fell asleep that night, I made a wish for tomorrow: darts.

Over and double out.

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We had our second Exhibition Week given the great importance of getting the fans and the pros together to build up rapport in the sport. Maria Butler has only just begun to put on exhibitions and, although she finds it insanely difficult to put together, she loves doing it. We put her to task by asking her to walk us through the process of setting up an exhibition from finding the right venue, contacting the players, hiring an MC, convincing people to come and packing up when all is said and done. Sounds like a “one size fits all” plan. Not exactly. Every venue is different, the players are different and how responsive the crowd is always changes. We as Americans are looking at exhibitions as a gateway to new players and fans for darts. What a better way to get people interested than to get the best players showing off the best this game has to offer. We encourage anyone who would be interested in putting on an exhibition and email us at host@dartsaroundtheworld.com. We will be happy to help you get started. Who knows, maybe we will film it for you! To finish off the show, as always, Richard Ashdown gave his lowdown on the Premier League as well as his predictions for this week. Follow Richard on twitter @LittleRichard to tell him what you think about his predictions! Thanks for listening!

Links:

www.insidedarts.co.uk Check out the first FREE issue of Inside Darts Magazine!

After another late night of darts with the Icelandic team, I woke early, to force feed myself another delicious Kex breakfast of coffee, bread, fruit and cheese, before straggling over to the Arctic Rafting office.

My guide, Dóri, met me at the van, and we tooled around the quiet streets, while  Reykjavik slumbered, to another hotel. “Four others are joining us,” he said. But, they never appeared–perhaps they had too much Viking or Brennivín the night before. With a funny look and a smile Dori said, “Well, it looks like it’s just you and me today Adam.” Soon, we were leaving the city behind for the open expanse of Iceland.

This is a land of fire and ice. The country is located over a geological hotspot, straddling the northern Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where the Eurasian and North American Plates slowly spread apart. Its landmass is covered in jagged volcanic rock and fertile silt. Earthquakes are common, but the geothermal activity also provides plenty of hot water and a continuous source of energy to power the country. Despite the rugged and often volatile terrain, the climate is fed by wind and wet weather that spins off of the Atlantic Ocean. The result is a thick, soft carpet of mosses, lichens, small plants and diminutive shrubs that shroud the sharp rocks underneath and turn inhospitable terrain into rolling hills of greenery beneath sawtooth ridges.

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Dóri and I became fast friends during the ninety minute drive, slowly curving along the one lane highway, as the rainy grey, green and black landscape scrolled by. I asked questions about the economy and history, as Dóri pointed out farms, summer homes and small towns. He told me about methods for growing crops in greenhouses watered by hot springs. He explained the unique characteristics of Icelandic sheep and horses. But, primarily, we talked about our mutual love of rivers and rafting.

We arrived at Arctic Rafting’s guide house, a large wooden lodge, complete with bar and restaurant, hot tubs and saunas, and all the storage space needed for the requisite equipment and gear. Several guides live on site as well, and I quickly met Fred, Elli, Þröstur and Lama. A group of twenty tourists arrived, and I was glad to find out I wouldn’t be paddling alone. After a gear and safety talk, we boarded the big blue bus for a rocky ride down to the river.

Arctic Rafting offers river trips in North and South Iceland–ranging from Class II to Class V–but without time for the four hour drive and overnight stay required to run the “Beast of the East“, we would be floating the Hvítá. The water was a thick grey milky color winding through some black cliffs along the shallow valley floor. It was the end of the season, the river was low, and the rapids weren’t huge, but I didn’t care–besides darts, my other dream is to float as many rivers as possible all over the world…and I was hoping this was the first of several whitewater rides on my journey. Of course, halfway downriver, I couldn’t resist the chance to cliff jump too; I and few other braver tourists stepped off a twenty foot wall, plunging into the silty darkness, and surfacing with a gasp. The trip was mellow but amazing, and, for me, another big check on my life’s to-do list.

By noon, we were back at the lodge, warming ourselves with steam rooms, beers, and sandwiches. We bid farewell to the staff and other tourists, and Dóri and I headed off alone again in the van. We stopped to feed some of the stout Icelandic horses, on our way to one of the world’s most famous natural wonders: Gullfoss. Always ranked among the best and most unique waterfalls on earth, it’s a ninety foot drop down perpendicular tiers of rock into a tight gorge hidden under the eruption of spray and mist. After Iguazu Falls in Brazil, this is easily the second best combination of water and gravity I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Our Golden Circle tour continued to the Haukadalur valley, home to ‘Geysir‘, a dormant geyser that used to shoot dramatically high. It rarely erupts now,  its name lives on in every language. The park is filled with a host of geothermal springs, from hot pools to muddy bubblers, but the star these days is a geyser named Strokkur. Eruptions happen every few minutes, often hitting ten to fifteen meters. We stood right next to it and watched several explosions of gas and boiling water.

Next, it was a short drive to Þingvallavatn, the largest natural lake in Iceland. Later we arrived at the infamous Mid-Atlantic Ridge that bisects Iceland. A brave group of Russian tourists were preparing to snorkel the strange chasm between the two continental plates. We walked to Lögberg, the Law Rock, an outdoor assembly area nestled in the cliffs where ancient Icelanders first gathered over one thousand years ago for all matters of government.

Sadly, the day and my stay in Iceland was coming to an end. I can’t recall if I spent another night with my friends at the Icelandic Darts club–I don’t have any pictures–but I’m pretty sure I did. Back at the hostel, I did take one last photo: my dartboard, flown around the world from Oregon to Iceland, now hanging in the Kex activity room, waiting to be discovered and enjoyed, ready to spread the love of darts long after I was gone.

Still feeling a bit of jet lag, I must have crashed around midnight. I had to rise early for my flight to Scotland, and continue an odyssey that had barely begun–to the World Cup of Darts and back.

Over and double out.

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Reykjavik

My second day in Iceland was off to a great start: breakfast at Kex and darts with Einar and Gudmundur in the Icelandic Darts Club. By late afternoon, it was time for some sightseeing. Gudmundur departed, and Einar and I took a walk up the waterfront to get an early dinner and sample Iceland’s world famous lamburger. Reykjavik is a lovely city that feels like a town, and its bayside has a wonderful walkway along the seawall, dotted by sculptures and plaques pointing out the names of peaks on the horizon. We passed people jogging, biking, or walking their dogs, enjoying the crisp air and clear skies.

In the base of a tall glass tower–one of the rare skyscrapers in Reykjavik–was a well known and popular restaurant called Hamborgarafabrikkan, the Hamburger Factory, where they serve the finest lamburgers in town, according to Einar, an opinion proven by tables packed with local patrons. Einar knows everyone in town, including one of the owners named Jói, who personally visited with us and presented our gourmet and delicious lunches. An electronic sign on the wall kept an instant count on Iceland’s population, and everyone cheered a little each time the number clicked up a notch–another baby born in Iceland. A table nearby had a young Icelandic beauty celebrating her birthday with her family as well. And, there were interesting pictures on the walls, including the iconic image of US President Ronald Reagan shaking hands with Soviet Secretary-General Mikhail Gorbachev in 1986. In many ways, the photo represents the beginning of the end of the cold war–a fitting bit of irony in this icy and nuetral country–and the house, called Höfði, was right outside the restaurant, in plain view from our booth. After lunch, Einar and I took a closer look at this historical site, and had a laugh re-enacting the famous handshake–Einar was Reagan and me Gorbachev–and we both said something about the power of darts to bring people together. The stroll back down the waterfront was even more lovely, as the low sun was caught behind Reykjavik’s modest cityscape silhouette. Looking behind us, a perfectly soft pink full moon floated over the bay. We were headed back to the Icelandic Darts Club to meet the national team of Iceland and many other top players, who were just getting off from their normal work days.

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Upon arrival, I was thrilled to see a dozen people playing, and I quickly met them all. They seemed to be equally excited to meet me–it’s not everyday that a darts reporter comes to town. There was Þorgeir–whose name starts with the letter ‘thorn’, pronounced like a ‘th’–who is not only the captain of Iceland’s national team, but would also be the oldest player, by several years, in the World Cup–a fact hard to fathom once you know his youthful personality. There was Peta, the top female player in Iceland, who was equally adorable. I laughed it up with Þröstur, Gummi, and Ægir, Icleand’s number one player who unfortunately could not attend the event in Ireland. But, his absence opened space for players like Friðrik and Kristján who would round out the team. The national team qualifying process is clear, but does not include fundraising, so it often comes down to who qualifies and can afford to fly themselves to major events in Europe. Iceland has a powerful pool of talent to choose from, and I met the entire team that night, minus the other woman player who lived in Akyueri, Iceland’s second largest city four hours to the north. Of course, I would be with all of them in Castlebar, Ireland the following week, and we would have a blast making more memories along with forty other countries worth of darters.

We played all night, drinking Viking lagers from giant glass steins engraved with dartboards. Þorgeir presented one to me as a gift, along with a smaller glass–I didn’t know it then, but those cups would have their own adventure in the weeks ahead, an adventure that continues today. I hit a ton eighty that night, my first and only ton eighty in Iceland, and the joy was just like hitting my first ever. It occurred to me that I must try to hit a ton eighty in as many countries as possible on this trip. The darts I was using were my interchangeable steel and soft tips–I was too afraid to lose my cherished world traveling steel set to airport or ship security somewhere along the way, leaving them safe in Portland–but the interchangeable darts, like the glasses, are also still on a journey somewhere.

More on those stories in Thorn Reports ahead.

But for now, it was party time. We took a group picture, and we headed down mainstreet to the bars. In short, we had a blast getting smashed, staggering around the streets late at night, laughing, and the whole thing was just so much fun…I didn’t even take any pictures. I probably got back to the Kex well past midnight. Thank goodness I did, because tomorrow morning I had to get up early to take the all day “Golden Circle Tour” with Arctic Rafting: to the geysers, waterfalls, springs and continental rifts…and, then,  go whitewater rafting in Iceland!

I never did get a glimpse of the Northern Lights–it was a bit early in the year for them to appear, and even if they were there, the full moon glowed over any chance. But I know I’ll be back and have another chance…I’ll aim for winter…when the darts and the Aurora Borealis are at their peak.

Over and double out.

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Follow the links in this story for more information! Or, follow my adventures even further, in other exclusively written articles in Bull’s Eye News magazine, and, starting in March, the all new online magazine, Inside Darts.

After skipping a week we returned to the airwaves with a packed show. Our first guest was Chris Haill of the already established Snookered magazine and the soon to be released Inside Darts magazine. He has been noticing a clear growth in the sport of darts and is looking to make this a worldwide magazine published in five different languages. Not only that, it will also be in digital format making it easily accessible to anyone, anywhere. Readers of the digital release will also have access to links for photos and videos as well bringing a more modern approach to the typical magazine. We will be inviting Chris back upon the launch of this new magazine to show our support all of his hard work. Next up it was time for us to introduce a new segment called Ashdown’s Lowdown where Richard Ashdown will give us full coverage of the events overseas with the PDC and BDO. We are very proud to welcome Richard to the DATW family and we are looking forward working with him more. To conclude this week’s show I talked about my recent trip to California for vacation/Dartslive USA’s first ever event. Also, John Ronnholm was able to attend the first stop on the DPNY tour while I was away so more on that as well. This is a big show and no one should miss it. Thanks for all of your support!

Links:

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Iceland

Me, that dartboard, and my travel and darts dreams were high over North America. For the fifth time in my life I was flying over Canada, beyond Greenland, and across the Atlantic to Iceland. I should have been sleeping the whole way, but excitement and interesting fellow passengers kept me awake the whole way. Seven hours and seven time zones later, the plane landed with the familiar squeak of tires on tarmac. It was dawn, clear and crisp, with no sign of the the ash clouds or the unpronounceable volcano that wreaked havoc on European air travel months before.

Long before arriving, I had made contact with a complete stranger, a darts player in Reykjavik, named Einar. We became fast friends through DartsUnderground, and he offered his hospitality for my visit. As I trundled out of the modern yet modest international airport, Einar was there at the turnaround, in his SUV, reflecting the first orange rays of morning light. Tall, dark, and svelte, Einar collected me and my bags with a hardy welcome and handshake, and the friendship grew quickly with conversation during the long pre-rush hour drive into the city.

We were heading to a new hostel housed in a former biscuit factory called Kex, the Icelandic word for “cookie” or “cracker”. Einar had recommended it in advance; first, because it was nice and new, and second, because its location was perfect–on the bay, in the heart of Reykjavik, and right next door to the Icelandic Darts Club! I contacted Kex in advance too, describing the purpose of my journey. “We’d love to have a dartboard in our game room,” the manager wrote.

Einar dropped me, my bags and my dartboard off at the back door, promising to return later to show me the darts club.

I was dead tired, but still running on excitement. I checked in, took pictures of the fantastic and affordable Kex Hostel, and presented the board to the staff and owners at the front desk. “This will be perfect for our activity room,” they said with smiles. I smiled back, took my key, and went upstairs to my elegantly simple private room, the first bed of my three month odyssey. I examined maps, got my internet working, charged the camera, and made plans to walk the town…after a quick nap. I’ve never had jet lag so bad in my life.

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A few hours later in the early afternoon, I woke with a start, thinking, “Come on Adam, how can you sleep when there are things to see and do!? You’re in Iceland!” I forced myself up and headed out for a walk down the main tourist boulevard, a block away. It was a beautiful sunny day, leaving me comfortable in pants, sleeves, my BlueSky Cap and my denim coat. My pockets held a 100,000 Kronurs, Iceland’s currency, plus my passport, waterproof camera, and my darts. I jingled a little as I walked.

This first outing was simply reconnaissance. I would scout the local culture and search for the nearest dart bars. I also stopped at the offices of Arctic Rafting–a sightseeing and adventure company I had also emailed in advance–to confirm my package on Thursday: whitewater rafting and the “Golden Circle” tour to see some of Iceland’s most famous natural wonders–like geysers, waterfalls, hot springs and rifts. Today was Monday, and I had three days to explore the walkable and welcoming capital city.

It’s always amazing to stroll through a new culture: hearing a unique language from passing pedestrians, seeing signs on restaurants and stores offering whale, puffin and shark dinners or sales on the latest in fuzzy warm Icelandic fashion, and studying the hardy faces of these Viking ancestors. Icelandic was already one of my favorite languages–it’s the only one in the world with a letter called “thorn“, a unique symbol in many ways. Other than some basics, like ” takk”, “já”, and “skál” meaning “thanks”, “yes”, and “cheers” respectively, I didn’t learn nearly enough. I never found time to try the “hákarl“, the infamous shark delicacy fermented for five months before serving, nor entrees of whale or puffin, although I did enjoy the renowned lamburger more than once. And then there’s the people. They couldn’t be a friendlier bunch. And, to my pleasant surprise, the women of Iceland are some of the more beautiful in the world.

I walked the main drag, snapping pictures of people and the civic beauty. Then, I found the dart bars. Would you believe that beer–not alcohol, just beer–was prohibited in Iceland until March 1, 1989, a date that is now a holiday called Beer Day.

The first place I found was The English Pub, with one board, centrally located by the bar, between a half dozen screens. They had a “Wheel of Fortune” on the wall which, of course, reminded me of David Irete, our wonderful producer at DartsAroundTheWorld. I told the bartender who I was and asked about the local darts scene over a Viking Lager. It was still early afternoon, and people–and potential dart players–were yet to arrive after work. So, I ambled down to The Dublner, met a barkeep named Oddur–he told me they used to have a board, and offered me a shot of Iceland’s signature liquor, Brennivín, also know as “Black Death”. He suggested I try the Den Danske for darts, a nearby Dutch bar up the street. Soon, I was there, just in time to join the regulars for an impromptu shoot–one hundred Kronurs each, winner takes all. Despite my dartitis, I managed to win the first round, and two out of three, giving a little credit to my unusual claim of being a darts-travel writer, and being mistaken for a ringer.

A short clip of us playing in Den Danske…

Time flew as I drank different brands of local brew. We played all evening but by midnight, I was wiped out and starving, stopping to buy a bunch of late night treats at a convenience store on my way home to the hostel. Einar was busy until tomorrow, which was fine by me–I needed the sleep. But the following morning, after an amazing continental breakfast and coffee at the Kex, Einar appeared. We walked around the corner to an non-descript building with a small sign near the door that said “Iceland Darts Club”. The club had boards everywhere, plus a fridge stocked with beer and giant glass steins on the bar. Another friend and player, Gudmundur, joined us and, on my second day in Reykjavik, we played all afternoon, laughing and drinking and talking about darts in Iceland. Despite only playing darts for a year, Einar had already made the national team and would represent his country as the number two player at the WDF World Cup. After a ton eighty or two, it was clear that he deserved to be on the team, and that Iceland has some serious talent. And, as you will see in Thorn Reports to come, Einar “The Joker” Möller lives up to his nickname…

Over and double out.

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Feel free to follow the embedded links and contact people and places in Iceland–they’re a friendly bunch, and I highly recommend all of the establishments mentioned above.

As always, consider a subscription to BullsEyeNews magazine. More exclusive Thorn Reports from this journey can only be found there, in a six part series beginning with the March 2012 issue.

So, there I was, sitting at my table at the 42nd Oregon Open, drawing a poster for DartsAroundTheWorld, and dreaming of the places and people I’d discover on my amazing race to oches around the world. Meanwhile, players were pouring in from all around the western United States and Canada, gearing up for another wonderful weekend of darts. Groups arrived from Washington, Oregon, California, British Columbia, and others traveled even further. By now, I knew most of the best shooters–people like John Husman, Steve Arionus, Allan Nutter, Kevin Luke, David Foster, Andy Campbell, Bill Dennis, and many more, not to mention Brenda Roush and Brian Jackson. Those I didn’t know, like new youth player Matt Sagen, I soon met.

But, one player caught everyone’s attention more than most, especially mine. Patrick Kithi is from Kenya. He grew up outside of the capital, Nairobi, in a town called Machakos. As a young man, he often went hunting for small game with hand thrown wooden arrows, honing his action and focus. Later, he moved to Nairobi, and joined the darts league, quickly becoming one of the top players. He recently moved to Oregon, and with a love of darts, was quickly discovering–and being discovered by–the darts scene in the Pacific Northwest. He surprised a lot of players that weekend and had many top finishes, included a victory in the Men’s Cricket event. Patrick’s story is the perfect example of what I love about darts–darts brings people together through a common joy. I told Patrick about my journey to Africa when I was a young man, and how it changed my perspective on life, and certainly added to my insatiable wanderlust.

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Myself, I’d enter a few events without much success. It certainly wasn’t like my first experience a few years earlier, at the 39th Oregon Open, when I actually made the stage and won the blind draw–with the help of an exceptional player from San Francisco. But, my “victories” at the 42nd Oregon Open were even more cherished–an invite to the World Cup with a top pro, meeting a person like Patrick Kithi, and winning a new dartboard in the PortlandAreaDartsAsssociation raffle. Well, actually, Brenda won it, and gave it to me, since she needn’t fly it home to Denver. Winning a new board may not seem like much–until you find out where the board ended up going…

How did I end up in Iceland? Well, let me explain, and let’s get this journey started…

After April, it was rafting season. As an employee of BlueSkyRafting, I spent the next five months working and saving money. Every day on the river, I’d dream about where to go in Europe and how to get there. Every night at my home in the woods, I’d research and plan the possibilities. I knew this much–I would try to see as many countries as possible. I also knew that Iceland Air had some great deals on flights. So, I targeted Iceland as my entry point, and bought a one way ticket to Glasgow, Scotland, for $670, which included a four day layover in Reykjavik, Iceland’s capital. That would get me to the United Kingdom, where it would be easy to train, bus and ferry my way to Northern Ireland and to the World Cup in Castlebar, Ireland. But how and when would I get home?

If you know me, you know my love of water. So, I started researching the possibilities of floating back to the United States, across the Atlantic. I found a repositioning cruise in late October, fifteen days from Spain to Panama, for only $400. It was so cheap I could afford to pay double for a room to myself.

After buying my boarding pass, my basic plan was nearly set: I’d fly across to Iceland and the United Kingdom, I’d travel through western Europe to Spain, float to Panama, and bus my way back up Central America. If I was lucky, I’d arrive in Los Angeles in mid December, the same time as John Lowe’s exhibition and first stop on his US tour. What a plan. I’d be traveling for three months, to possibly twenty countries, and several islands along the way…

The day of departure, September 12, finally arrived. Much of my itinerary was set, other segments were wide open and flexible. I was packed and prepared for weather from the Arctic to the Caribbean–how often do you put a snorkel and ski coat in the same bag?

But, there I was, standing outside Portland International Airport with my bag and carry-on with computer and camera, ready for the darts adventure of a lifetime. I also packed up the dartboard that Brenda gave me–but you’ll have to wait until next week’s chapter of the Thorn Report to find out why.

Over and double out.

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Comments on Dino, The Las Vegas Open, Shoot the Moon, the PDC World Cup, results, and more on the mathematics of seeding…

We had the pleasure this week to have Gary and Darin join us to talk about their appearance in the World Cup immediately following the event. Given the unique format of the World Cup, it was a blast watching Gary and Darin play doubles together on a stage with players that aren’t quite as familiar this style of darts. As each one of them would smile after one of them struggled or hit the big out, they were having fun up there. They didn’t exactly get the greatest reception from the German crowd (minus the one guy yelling USA at the most awkward times), they never seemed to be phased. On top of that, Gary was able to knock off Phil Taylor. Unfortunately, after a few chances to knock off England, they finally sealed the deal and sent the USA home packing. A lot of great insight into the world of the PDC from these guys. Bob Sinnaeve was also able to join us to give us all the info on the newly returned NAPDA. They are looking to develop a new ranking system for North America over 2 years based on earnings of the players. Tune in to this show to get most of what you need to know about this organization. Everything else can be found at www.napda.net. Don’t forget to find those hilarious dart related tweets and facebook posts for Colin Cosell’s new segment. Send all screen captures to host@dartsaroundtheworld.com. Have a great week dart world!

And, that’s how this journey began–a epic adventure to discover and spread darts around the world.

It was April in Portland, Oregon, cloudy and rainy. Mt. Hood was hidden in the clouds, and the river and meadow below were wet with mist. A warm fire was glowing in the living room. My friends, Brenda and Brian, were chatting with me in my dining room over drinks.  Brenda Roush is a top US professional darts player sponsored by L-Style. Brian Jackson is the creator of the new Major League Darts tour in North America. They were both in town for the ADO sanctioned 42nd Oregon Open, a Portland Area Darts Association event that is the longest consecutive running steel tip tourney in the United States.

To my complete surprise, Brenda had just invited me to attend the WDF’s 2011 World Cup of Darts in Castlebar, Ireland, in September.  “And, let’s travel around Ireland for a week after the tourney, Thorn style, ” Brenda added. Brian looked at me and smiled. Knowing me and my love of travel and darts, they both knew I wouldn’t say no.

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A preview of things to come…

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At that moment, I knew it would be the greatest darts adventure of my life so far–touring with a US pro, and meeting top dart players from forty countries around the world. What I didn’t know was that the two week invitation to Ireland would evolve into a much more ambitious itinerary–three months and twenty countries, a massive loop around the western hemisphere, from Iceland to Spain, across the Atlantic to Panama and back to the United States–to meet new cultures in new countries, and share the love of darts around the world.

There will be darts in exotic places–under the northern lights among geysers and glaciers, in the cloud forest with monkeys and pumas, from castles atop towering cliffs, and on black sand beaches of tropical volcanoes.

We will rub elbows with world champions, legends, and famous faces–John Lowe, Martin Adams, Scott Waites, Tony O’shea, Trina Gulliver, Larry Butler, and many many other prominent personalities  in our sport.

And, we’ll promote the sport in some of the world’s most famous cities: Reykjavik, Edinburgh, Belfast, Dublin, London, Amsterdam, Marseilles, Barcelona, Panama City, San Jose, Grenada, and Los Angeles.

Most importantly, we will make more international friends and connections than we can count, all through the love of darts, the greatest game on Earth. Believe it or not, through darts, we will even try to save the Earth itself.

And, it all starts today, right here in the Thorn Report.

Would you like to come with me?

Over and double out.
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Visit DartsAroundTheWorld and join me every Wednesday for another chapter of this amazing journey around the world of darts. And, for more on this adventure, subscribe to BullsEyeNews magazine today!

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Jeff Smith returns this week from the PDC’s Qualifying School to talk about winning his first ever tour card.  He described his experience as a confident one while he shot some of the best darts of his life. He looks forward to spending some time overseas and seeing what sponsorship can do for him to get him to travel more often. Congratulations Jeff! Immediately following the interview we turned to our panel of guests including Jay Tomlinson of Bullseye News Magazine, Steve Panuncialman of Dart Talk, Anthony Eugenia of Dart Players New York, Brian Jackson of Major League Darts and Chris Helms who recently became the next ADO President. With a fully diverse panel we set out to dissect the newly organized PDC North American Pro Tour. Thanks to Jay, we got a very detail explanation of how it is going to work. We got a sense that all on the panel were excited to see  what this new tour will bring to North America. Even better yet, organizations like Major League Darts and Dart Players New York will be able to contribute to these tournaments by sending top players to participate in these events. Oh, and don’t forget, all who are participating in these events need not worry about being disqualified for the WDF World Cup! Look out for more information to follow about the return of the PDC in the coming months. Stay tuned!

We recap the Lakeside Championship, preview the U.S. National Cricket Championship–including seedings and odds, and go off on (cough, cough, cough) the powers that be, the powers that wanna be, and the powers that will never be.

There may have been no round table in sight this week but Richard Ashdown could cover every seat at the table.  Previously, during our world cup coverage, we got to know Richard a little bit but due to the bandwidth issues in Castlebar, Ireland, it was tough to make out half of what was being said. Have no fear, he’s back! And may I say, he sounds great. Looks like he has done this sort of thing before. He tells us his great story involving Bobby George and the start of his career. He gave us so many great insights into the behind the scenes of major televised tournaments. From there, we talked about the two or three controversial events that took place up on the Lakeside stage. Two breeze issues in both semi-final matches of both World Championships, go figure! Given that this may have been the most in depth coverage we have ever had on the show, we will most certainly be having Richard back in the future.  We also added a small question and answer segment after the end of the music so stay tuned!

www.littlericharddarts.com

Richard’s Recommended Videos:

The Dynamic Duo that is Dart Talk runs down the Rae Chesney Winners (apologies in advance to Trish Grezik) and warn the free world about the dangers of entering a dart hall containing Bob Miske. We mention Lakeside. And the seedings for the Virgina Beach Pro Cricket Championship. And we cover some basic strategery involving cricket…

Jeff Smith and Gary Mawson came on the show Wednesday night to talk about their upcoming trip to the PDC’s Q-School. This is an opportunity for players not yet playing on the tour to obtain their very own tour card. The object? Win as many legs as you can and make it to the top 16. Easy? Not a chance! With players showing up from the BDO (Dave Chisnall won a tour card through Q-School), the field is guaranteed to be a major challenge. Jeff and Gary did not show a hint of worry as we chatted them up on the show. We also talked to Gary about his upcoming trip to play in the PDC’s World Cup of Darts with Darren Young representing the United States. This tournament has been one of my favorites since I last saw it with its interesting format and team play. As soon as Jeff returns from Q-School, we expect him back on the show regardless of the news on January 25th live at 9pm EST on Darts Underground to give us a little insight into his experience. I’d also like to announce our next round table episode on January 18th where we will be talking about this sudden appearance of a PDC Pro Tour in the US. I hope you are excited so far about what 2012 is bringing us, we can’t wait to see what’s next!

The first show of the year from Dart Talk includes a new co-host and the apparent end to technical glitches. Steve and ‘Mystery Mark’ remark on the PDC Championship, including some snark for Wes Newton and Paul Nicholson (“Just mail him a check next time, Paul”) and some remarks on draughts. Also, the 2012 North American Tournament Buyer’s Guide: a discussion of the most prestigious and lucrative tournaments open to North American Darters this year. The new PDC tour, Dartslive Asia, MLD, ADO: there are many more opportunities for players this year, but how does one choose which tournaments to attend and why? Ever the helpful types, Dart Talk can help. Also, we recap the 2011 Players of the Year and Most Outstanding Players for men and women, and identifiy the 2011 Newcomer of the Year.

Taking these valuable relationships and our obvious love of broadcasting, we felt it was our obligation to offer a bright future for dart players all over North America.  Besides highlighting many of the great players and personalities on our show, we would like to take their skills and present them on a full video broadcast. Up until recently, we were never able to broadcast events and view them from our homes anywhere in the world. Our first attempt at delivering a professional broadcast was at John Lowe’s first US Exhibition tour stop in Los Angeles. With six high-end cameras, the help of a dedicated volunteer staff and the ireplaceable guidance of our Director/Producer L. David Irete, we made it a complete success! Take a look at some of the photos from that event.

Photography compliments of Brian Jackson(MLD Darts)

December has brought darts galore with not just what we are doing, but the PDC’s Player’s Championships, Ladbrokes World Championships and the Final Stage of the The World soft-tip Grand Final. Christmas come early this year! With the word spreading everyday and more people starting to get involved, things are looking up in the world of darts.

So how can YOU help? For starters, you could contact Mark Clifford of the PDSL and ask him about starting a progressive singles league that uses a long format system. Then, contact Brian Jackson of Major League Darts to make your league count towards the MLD ranking system just like Anthony Eugenia did with Dart Players New York. You could also take it a step further and outfit your bar with a few webcams and broadcast it to the world like at the Irish Rover in Queens, NY. (see here) Want something more? Send us an email and tell us you want to volunteer to be apart of our live broadcast staff at future major events!

Well, that should get you started. 2012 has a promising future and with your help we could make that possible. Don’t just stop with YOU, get your dartner involved! The darting community has such a strong social connection and it can only get stronger. We, at Darts Around The World, would like to wish you a happy and healthy holiday! Say goodbye to an amazing 2011 and hello to an even better 2012!!

Talk about big trips. After almost one hundred days, I had discovered over one hundred dartboards, from Iceland to Spain to Panama, and back again. I’ve only been home in Oregon for one week, and I’m still trying to recall all that I saw, and prepare to deliver it to you in the Thorn Reports for 2012. Of course, there are plenty of teasers in my travel blog on dartsunderground.com, and I still owe you a summary of the last months worth of adventure through the Caribbean and Central America…

Let’s see. Last time we talked I was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

The islands I visited in the Caribbean–St. Maarten, Barbados, and Antigua–were, as we all know, paradise. Unfortunately, time didn’t allow me much time to explore–instead, I spent shore leave lounging on beaches, under palms trees, with beautiful women, good friends and ice cold beers. To my surprise, St. Maarten’s darts scene was on the French side of the island, not the Dutch. In Barbados, I just missed connecting with Michael Heal and Wayne Mardle, director and host of the Barbados Darts Festival. On Antigua–a place where I once played darts on the beach–I was on a tour all day and couldn’t find a board in my few spare minutes. No worries; the Thorn Report archives are already filled with Carib dart discoveries…

My cruise ship completed the trans-Atlantic crossing, and arrived in Colon, Panama. Some mates and I quickly crossed the infamous isthmus, paralleling the canal, to Panama City. I stayed in the heart of downtown, explored the city and found The Londoner, a classic English bar. Steel tip is rare here, but there was some soft tip to be found, and I threw my share of hattricks that night.

Leaving for Costa Rica by bus. the first stop was Dominical, a gringo infested surf town on the Pacific coast. To my surprise, there was some sisal in town, and I spent the next few nights playing in the San Clemente Bar and Grill, when I wasn’t paddling mangrove forests or partying on the beach.

Next, I trucked up the cloud forest to an eco-reserve called Cloud Bridge near Mt. Chirripó.  Surrounded by waterfalls and jungle, filled with birds and monkeys, we decided to make a contribution to the reforestation education program by creating a dartboard using some soft cyprus and paint. I donated a set of darts too, and the ‘Thorn Board” will hang in the school room, where students will throw darts to decide what to study or explore that day after their lessons.

Next, I was headed for San jose, Costa Rica’s capital. Again, I was shocked to discover a dart bar, Ozzy’s, just blocks away from my hostel. After one night of play, I met a local payer who quickly connected me with members of the local league, Dardos Ticos. Even more surprising was that I learned San Jose has a thriving and unique darts league, with over thirty bars! Before I knew it I was attending three straight nights of tournaments in parts of the city that tourists rarely see. Greatest of all, I contacted the WDF and arranged to help Costa Rica form its first national darts team!

Heading north into Nicaragua, I had more mixed luck. In Granada, a well known colonial town on the north shore of Lake Nicaragua. I found the Maragarita Bar and Grill with a steel tip board, shooting bulls to the tunes of Jimmy Buffet. Two days later, my search for darts took me to Ometepe, a an exotic island with double volcanoes. And three days after that, I smacked down in San Juan del Sur, another epic beach town. Between counting iguanas and toasting at sunsets, I was darting on one of three boards in the International Surf Club.

After a quick zip back to San Jose for my flight home–and one more night of darts with my Tico pals–I flew to  Los Angeles, Californian, in the United States of America…

Just in time for a weekend with John Lowe, Major League Darts, and Darts Around The World.

And then, I flew home to Portland, exactly three months and seventeen countries later. Over and double out.

After T19 days abroad, I’ve wound my way through D6 countries, seeking out the culture and nature and spreading the love of darts. I’m currently in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, sitting in the Viking Crown disco, S13 stories above the warm blue water on Royal Caribbean’s Grandeur of the Seas as it repositions to Panama. I’m watching flying fish and dolphins play in the starboard waves as I reflect on the journey so far. A multitude of passengers have become new friends–from Switzerland, Costa Rica, Brasil, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, and countless other nations–and are enjoying the good life on the decks below. The last month alone has more memories than one article can contain, but here are some highlights from the second leg of my big trip, from France to Spain and into the Mediterranean Sea and Atlantic Ocean…

In Marseille, I walked the glorious waterfront beaches of Marseille, past medieval ruins and forgotten fortresses to the yacht-filled harbor to play darts with a dozen French locals and an equal number of international tourists–and seeing the sun, moon, stars and planets from hotel balcony the following dawn…

Bussing across the wine fields of Southern France, along the French Riviera, and climbing up the Pyrennes mountains and down through the Catalan foothills…

A D6s worth of days exploring Barcelona, seeing the sights and sounds of Spain’s famous city by day, and promoting darts at the George Payne bar by night while meeting a DB’s worth of friends–including members of Team Catalan from the World Cup, the entire staff at the bar, and all of the international patrons that played darts with me…

Visiting Canet del Mar, a quiet beach town north of Barcelona, and dipping my feet into the Mediterranean surf…

Flying to Palma de Mallorca, an infamous Spanish island filled with bars and beaches, exploring the British sectors of Magaluf and Palmanova, and the quintessential German town of Arenal–and discovering more pubs, darts and friends…

Boarding my boat, cruising past the Rock of Gibraltar and Morocco’s Casablanca, followed by a struggle of a search for darts in Tenerife, in the Canary Islands…

Five days forging across the Atlantic on a luxury liner filled with seasoned travelers, all following the wake of Christopher Columbus five centuries later…

The next S3 days include stops in St. Maarten, Barbados, and Antigua, where I know I can find a dartboard or two. Then, it’s on to Colon, along the canal to Panama City, before moving north and west to a jungle eco-preserve in the mountains of Costa Rica, with the rest of Central America laying in wait for me to discover into December. But who knows where I’ll end up, because in my world, plans can change fast. Over and double out.

Fanned (and rightly so) by the Old Dart Coach, Howie Reed, there’s been a bit of banter in recent weeks (although hardly enough) about the World Cup and finagling by Olly Croft, Roy Price and possibly outgoing American Darts Organization (ADO) president, Buddy Bartoletta, to boot Stacy Bromberg from the American team.

Love her or not, Bromberg – the ADO’s top ranked female player for 16 years, National Team member for 12 years, National 501 Champion for 12 years, National Cricket Champion for 4 years, 4-time World Cup gold medalist, Bullshooter Top Gun Champion and MVP for 4 years each, and the one and only PDC Riley’s/Unicorn Ladies World Champion – earned her right to play. The decision to remove her from the team was contrived, unfair and wrong. The ADO should have gone to the wall on Bromberg’s behalf.

READ MORE!

After one month of travel, precisely D15 days, I’ve seen D4 countries, and have collected a Ton80 of unforgettable travel and darts memories. Even as I write this, I’m sitting on a bench, in a park, in Marseilles, France, on a gorgeous day, waiting for my new Russian friend, a traveling street performer from Moscow, who’s replacing his lost passport. I helped him find the embassy. Last night we found two dart bars along the vibrant city harbor, after shopping in a vintage guitar shop owned by an famous pedal maker, and eating Turkish kebabs on the colorful streets before returning to our Moroccan Hotel. And that’s just the last twenty four hours…

Here are some other highlights from the first third of my trip…

Meeting team Iceland, and many locals, from pubs like Den Danske, The English Pub, and The Irish pub. We played darts like mad, when I wasn’t touring geysers, waterfalls, and whitewater with Arctic Rafting (www.adventures.is). Not to mention Kex Hostel, a fantastic new hostel on the waterfront, who let me stay for free in exchange for a dartboard.

In Scotland, I not only met some of the best local players in the one and only dart shop, but was treated to many beers and legs, in a classic Scottish dart pub, with my new friend Adam, a young addict to the game. Edinburgh is like Harry Potter on steroids, and home to the author’s initial inspiration. In Glasgow, I hooked up with Des, a linguistics professor, on the train and ferry, who I’d eventually find again in Dublin, and take darts even further around the world.

In Belfast, North Ireland, I met D3 fantastic women in Belfast, and found the Spaniard, the only dart bar I could find in my short stay. The board was 6 inches high and crammed in the corner, but nonetheless, I made friends around the world through the game.

In Ireland, of course, I met the whole world of darts at the World Cup. I couldn’t begin to pick a favorite moment, from hanging with Team England to Team India and every country alphabetically before, between and after. I made a million contacts and Dartbook exploded with new members and countries. There was one lowlight to the World Cup, but that’s between me, Hascup, and Bones.

In Ireland, part two, I travelled to seven cities with Brenda Roush, Queen Bee, and top player on the US team. We made friends in a dozen dart bars and saw all the sights we could see in a week that was far too short. But, we did enjoy some first class travel writing. And who has heard of the BDC, the OOO, and the ‘Tache Man’? I have, and you will, and you’ll be amazed. Find him on Dartbook now. I also hit my second ton80, including Iceland, and overcame dartitis. I even hit a deadeye bulling for the start against Brenda with my new darts, bought off a bar in Castlebar.

In Wales, I hit my third ton-eighty of the trip, first leg, against a top shot in Holyhead. A day later I bombed across to London, walked the Thames, and found a fine pub before hopping the ferry to Holland.

The Netherlands was another dream come true–it seems I fall in love with every country I go to! After bartering with the hottest hostels in Delft and a great dart bar, I got both to add dartboards to the games they offer guests. Not to mention, going to the booth with Jacques Nieuwlaat, master caller for the PDC, BDO, and WDF! A hundred new members signed up to DartBook after Jacques plugged our sites. So, be sure to friend anyone from Holland. You won’t regret it.

Now I’m in France, having traveled here with my Russian friend. Running low on money, I decided to join him as a street performer and rake in Euros for two weeks, accompanying him on drums, until my next guaranteed stop in Barcelona. Too bad he had passport problems and ran back to Paris. Now I’m alone again, walking the streets and harbors of Marseille. Good thing I’ve found a couple dart bars. But, despite the new friends I continue to make, I wish you were with me.

That’s the last month in a nutshell. Although there are 501 memories and 1001 pictures I’ll save for my post-world-tour Thorn Reports. But, I can tell you, the next two months will be just as interesting–and the darts, harder to find. But beware, the Thorn Reports are going to pour in, in full, when I return. Over and double ‘oui’.

Links:

In the Year 2000, according to a survey conducted by the American Darts Organization (ADO) the average dart player in this country was 38 years old, so I guess you and I are now about 50. In my case (and the Old Dart Coach’s) this is good news.

Our average household income was $56,564. Today, if we’re still playing darts – and we sure as hell are – our household income is only half this figure, because our spouse has walked out.

Most of us had jobs: trades (19%), technology/telecommunications (16%), professional – including financial services, engineering and sales representatives (13%), government workers (12%) and real estate-related (10%). Fewer of us are employed today, thanks to politicians in Washington.

READ MORE!

Links:

www.mastercaller.com
www.littlericharddarts.com

Iceland. Scotland. Northern Ireland. Ireland. The World Cup of Darts. More Ireland. England. Holland. Belgium. France. Spain. Portugal. Gibraltar. Morocco. Mallorca. The Canary Islands. St Maarten. Barbados. Antigua. Panama. Costa Rica. Nicaragua. Honduras. El Salvador. Guatemala. Belize. Mexico. And the USA…

Last Spring I was invited to attend the 2011 WDF World Cup of Darts in CastleBar, Ireland with the US Team. If you know me, you know I jumped at the chance. A great-deal-on-Iceland-Air-and-Royal-Caribbean later, an adventure was planned that might eclipse all of my previous journeys around Earth. Twenty countries in three months, from Iceland to Morocco to Panama and back again. My goal: discover the wonders of more cultures and countries, and seek out and spread the sport of darts, and to unite us all through the sport we love…via DartsAroundTheWorld. Look and listen for updates on the DATW pocasts and in my profile and blog on Dartbook.

When I finish this epic odyssey, there will be unbelievable and detailed stories from places across Europe, Africa, Caribbean and Central America–even the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. And you can join me for all of it at DartsAroundTheWorld and in BullsEyeNews magazine. You better renew or begin that subscription.

Spread the love. Spread the sport. Thorn is going around the world again, looking for people like you.

Over and double out.

“Now when I was a little chap,” recalled Joseph Conrad at the beginning of Heart of Darkness, “I had a passion for maps. I would look for hours at South America, or Africa, or Australia, and lose myself in all the glories of exploration. At that time there were many blank spaces on the earth, and when I saw one that looked particularly inviting on a map (but they all look that) I would put my finger on it and say, ‘When I grow up I will go there.’ ”

I was the same way as a boy. I think the Old Dart Coach, Howie Reed, must have also been. I don’t know what sparked his wanderlust but I remember the moment I new I would go to far away places…

READ MORE!

They call him the “Dragon” and he’s a former world champion. He has basked in the glory of his ‘sport,’ one that some describe as “just the right mix of skill and intellect.” Growing older and with a family, he is still highly regarded, puts in the practice and travels frequently in his quest to add another world championship to his resume. And he’s currently one of the most well known and popular promoters of his game.

But who is the Dragon? And with recent rumblings of a push to see his ‘sport’ added as a demonstration activity at the 2012 London Olympics one must also ask: Why the hell is the Olympics in London? Was Toledo booked?

READ MORE!

That’s darts. But it reminds me of something else…

In case you haven’t noticed, I have a third love: travel, darts and…water. Especially rivers. And in whitewater lingo, a “five” is the ultimate in excitement–the highest rating a runnable rapid can receive. “Class V” means huge volumes of technical water, undulating hydraulics heaving over hidden rocks, whitecaps cresting higher than your helmet that crush across your bow, blinding your drop into the next monstrous trough, a deafening roar as the guide screams paddle commands, “Forward! Forward! Forward!”…

Now, imagine combining travel, darts, and rivers.

I fell in love with water years ago, spending countless summers floating my inflatable boat down the many rivers of the Pacific Northwest. Generally, it’s a pleasure cruise, with life jacket and twelve pack at hand, enjoying the views and mellow class III’s and II’s with a few friends. When I travel further, I always scout for bigger opportunities to go with the pros, and I have had the thrill of almost killing myself on class V’s from Alaska to Argentina. And, last summer, I did something I wish I did a long time ago: I got a dream job, as office manager and photographer at a local whitewater outfit, Blue Sky Rafting, in the gorgeous Clackamas River valley east of Portland. To my surprise, there’s a company trip at the end of each rafting season, and an opportunity I wouldn’t miss.

Specifically, the plan was a five day float through Hell’s Canyon, the notorious seventy mile stretch of the Snake River on the border of Oregon and Idaho. At 8000 feet, this gorge is the deepest in North America, inaccessible by road. Nez Percé legends and the ghosts of lost pioneers and murdered miners linger in the steep basalt walls. Pronghorn deer hide in the crags, keeping watch for cougar, to the sound of a lone rock tumbling down the cliffs. At sunrise, long shadows cross the cavernous chasm as osprey and vultures begin to circle. At sunset, dusk seems to last forever before the stars and planets fade in a full moon’s glow. At night, a campfire burned as we counted meteors and the moons of Jupiter. By day, powerful jet boats, loaded with tourists, regularly bomb up and down the epic rapids, making it look easy. But for the non-motorized, pushing off with nothing but a paddle and PFD, the journey was nothing less than intense.

There were ten of us in five boats: two kayaks, two framed oar rafts, and a paddle raft loaded with all the gear and grub we’d need for four nights camping. The daily routine was predictable: breakfast and break camp, load the boats, paddle the flats and pound the rapids, make camp, eat and drink, stargaze, sleep and repeat. Day one included the two biggest rapids, White Sheep and Granite–both football sized fields of class IV and V whitewater, hence the D5 dart reference. Both required stopping for long stares, studying the lines, scouting our path through the exploding torrents. The following days had handfuls of moderate rapids, but, like the scenery and ghostly history, they never ceased to impress. Every day we explored old mines dug into the cliffs, pioneer cabins and farm equipment, remnants of boom towns gone bust a century ago. We found springs during stony hikes up side canyons, and spied rarely seen wildlife: black widows, rattlesnakes, bighorn sheep and bald eagles.

As for darts, I knew it would be a tough find. I tried to find a bar or two with a board in the small eastern Oregon towns we passed through before and after the river. No luck, although some said they had dartboards way back when. On the river, I found a fine collection of Native American arrowheads on display at an old pioneer museum. At one campsite, I discovered a worn pictograph etched in the rock, a stick figure under two semicircles, that looked more like a dart in the double bull. Also, someone brought a colorful set of bocci balls that made for some rousing afternoon competitions on the sandy shores, and certainly appeased my need to aim and throw something. And, while reading our waterproof topographic map, I was pleased to see two creeks named after yours truly…

But, in the end, the failed search for darts was just as fun, even if it paled compared to the thrill of running Hell’s Canyon. And, for those of you who haven’t had the adrenaline rush of two class V’s, I have a surprise. A partner in the paddle raft had a high definition helmet cam rolling through both…It’s one of those moments in life when you must see the line, clear your mind, dig deep, and go for it with a perfect stroke.

By the way, if any of you can visit Portland this summer, Blue Sky Rafting and I would love to send you down the river on a dartplayer’s discount. Check out the website, BlueSkyRafting, or just email me if you’re interested. And if whitewater isn’t your thing, let’s go on a DATW cruise together!

And definitely watch the video below.

Hell’s Canyon Trailer from Janus Kober on Vimeo.

Over and double out.

www.redeyerhinodarts.com

As darts in America becomes more and more exciting, you will start to see some incredible people coming out of the woodwork. Anthony Eugenia is one of those guys. He already does so much for this sport with his progressive league in NYC. It takes a very determined and passionate person to be able to accomplish all that he does with a full-time job and a family. Being that we are working on building an elite group of promoters and players to create a spectacle never seen before in the United States, it is going to take many more people like Anthony to make this dream a reality. If you are doing something very special with darts and you would like to join us in our mission, please contact us immediately at host@dartsaroundtheworld.com. We are doing this so that we can provide the motivation that our players need in the country to become successful and to actually live their dream of being a professional dart player. We thank Anthony for all of his hard work and dedication to the sport we all love and we are looking forward to working with him in the near future.

As John started to show some life before the midway break, he came back with a focus like no other. Starting off with a 180, we knew he had a comeback in him. Then a second 180, I could feel the adrenaline start to pump. Finally, he sunk the triple 20, the triple 19 and then the money-maker, DOUBLE 12! Yup, in joy I screamed at the top of my lungs and almost fell off of my chair. What a remarkable shot by John Part and we would like to all congratulate him on such an accomplishment.

Scotty Burnett joins us on the program to discuss his career, travel and one little hot-button issue that got him over 100 responses on facebook. He proves to be a very passionate dart player and stands strongly behind his beliefs. He shared a couple stories about his travel abroad in France, England and Asia. There are so many travel opportunities in darts and this really helped us prove that with some of the comedic responses Scotty gave us. He is looking to accelerate his career not only here in the United states but overseas as well. He is so competitive that he will race his son to see who can finish their burrito the fastest. Yup, its in our blood folks. Forget about the “no child left behind” policy. (I kid scotty of course) Now for a little after hours stories from Scotty, be sure to listen past the closing music of this weeks show. Please contact us if you enjoyed/hated this weeks show at host@dartsaroundtheworld.com. We want to hear from you either way. We will be back next week with an all new episode. Thanks for listening!

Another sea lion finds time to relax between meals.

Remember, at this point in time and space, in the summer of 2006, I’d only played darts for a year, with only one season of league experience. My blogging had hardly begun; my pseudonym was still just the name of my first darts team. I didn’t know who Phil Taylor was, or any of the other greats. I certainly didn’t know who Johnny Kuczynski was. But, I had recently heard about the World Series of Darts–the latest effort to inspire competition in North America. A televised tourney would pay one million dollars to any American that won. However, only one American made it out of the first round. It was Johnny Kuczynski.

Whether fate, destiny, or coincidence, it must have been the fourth or fifth day of my trip. Gavin and gang were hanging out after work with me in the Sea Breeze bar, getting the “local discount” on beers and bombing some darts. Multiple televisions happened to be showing the WSOD, which I only glanced at occasionally, a bit oblivious. Another family was there for an early fish-n-chip dinner, with some children. Their toddler, maybe one or two, became transfixed on the darts on TV, and was soon groping on the glass of the flatscreen. Seeing a young dart player in the making, I took a photo…and in that picture, I unknowingly captured Johnny’s image.

If you know Johnny K, you know this: he’s a great shooter, a great representative of the sport, and a fabulous supporter of children via his increasingly successful annual Toys-for-Tots drive. I didn’t meet Johnny in person until the 2009 PacMania2 tournament in Burbank, California. By then, I was much more familiar with professional players in Europe as well as in North America, but I was still a relatively unknown darts blogger, with very little playing experience at bigger tournaments. By chance, I drew Johnny in ’01 singles, and despite being an average player and shooting horribly, Johnny played an extra leg with me and gave me advice on my shot. It was clear to me that Johnny was very down to earth, very kind, and the kind of role model that hopefully all players can continue to follow. Since then, I’ve gotten to know Johnny better, most recently at the 2011 Vegas Open and via DartsAroundTheWorld and DartBook. And, there is nothing I’d like more than to bring added attention to Johnny’s toy drive, and help him set another fundraising record for needy children. Let’s show the world what the people of darts are really about.

So, before concluding this entry with more photo captions to capture the fading memories, I’d encourage you to visit his site or find him on DartBook, and offer your support!
Johnny Kuczynski’s Official Page
Johnny Kuczynski’s DartBook Page
Leave a comment, ask a question, or make a donation. Johnny, DATW, and the next generation will thank you.

Tons of halibut and salmon find their way to the homes of hundreds of happy seafood lovers.

Johnny Kuczynski--focussed and stepping to the oche, possibly in his second round match at the WSOD--has no idea about the people he's inspiring around the world

My "waterfront property" in Seward, with a whale watching boat heading out.

The Yukon Bar was an equally hot spot for locals and tourists alike--and I found another sisal board. These gentlemen are enjoying some serious Long Island Ice Teas after a long day of fishing.

It's always fun to find your name--this time, right by the backside of my campground along Seward's seafront.

A lone sailboat heads out into the perfect weather, floating the same water that formed deadly tsunamis in 1964.

The view from my tent was almost better than standing outside--plus, I can see a T16...

Cormorants, gulls and puffins prefer the rocks with a view, while Stellar sea lions lounge where they have easy access to the sea.

An inadvertent self portrait appears around Gavin, who was taking a turn as tour boat captain.

With all-you-can-eat salmon and steak in my belly, and who-knows-how-many beers, the view from the bridge was incredible.

On my second to last day, two new friends and I piled in the car to explore the Kenai Peninsula. We found our way to Hope, a rustic inlet town with unbelievable salmon runs. Combat fishing was in full effect as the sides of the creek were lined with fishermen just feet apart, each with dozens of salmon already.

The creek was so stuffed with spawning salmon, these could have been caught with bare hands.

A stroll around town lead around some nearby farms.

My friends posed for the proverbial tourist trap photo.

Dodging the crowds, a braver fisherman heads into the mucky delta of the the creek, where the salmon can choose different channels to run the gauntlet of rods and reels.

Cruise boats are common sites in Seward. I hope my next adventure to Alaska is on the next DartsAroundTheWorld darts-cruise. See the group in DartBook, if you're interested.

I spent an afternoon watching the sea lions in the harbor.

Then, I spent more time, watching an Amish family watch the sea lions.

I'm not sure if these sea lions are smarter than average, or just more lazy, but either way, the close up view of them ripping apart fish helps explain why we call them 'lions' in English, or 'wolves' in Spanish.

In 2006, I had only been on two cruises--one to Alaska in 1980, and one to the western Caribbean in 2000. Since then, it's become my favorite method of travel, as you'll see in many of my Thorn Reports.

Back in Seward, I discovered salmon spawning in the smallest of creeks.

My last full day in Alaska, I convinced two friends to have their first whitewater experience--on the Class V run of Six Mile Creek!

Three narrow canyons highlight the river, shrouded under fog and mist.

The first few class III and IV rapids went flawlessly...

On the second class V rapid, another boat got hung up on a rock. As the last boat through, we had little choice but to charge the line at full speed, and attempt to bump them free. Yours truly, in the white helmet, had the prime position. I hit that raft with all I had, they floated free and everyone cheered, especially our guide.

The third and final big rapid went as smoothly as the first.

The end of the run on Six Mile Creek--the last digital memory of my second trip to Alaska, and the beginning of my travel-darts blogging.

Alaska is amazing. If you’ve ever wanted to see another world, visit the landscapes of the 49th state. DartsAroundTheWorld has set it sights north for another darts cruise, where every port guarantees a dart bar, and so much more. And, you just might see a whale while you throw a ton-eighty. Wouldn’t it be great if you were aboard?

Over and double out.

In lieu of the brand new Cricket Champion Program, which shows the ADO looking to make an interesting change, many darters had shown their skepticism. That is, until we brought on the President of the ADO, Buddy Bartoletta. With just a few questions to the intent ADO President, we were able to put most concerns to rest. If you have any further questions regarding the new program, please contact us at host@dartsaroundtheworld.com. Later in the show we talked to buddy about the long-awaited World Cup in Ireland as well as the true status for darts in regards to the Olympics. We will make every attempt to have Buddy on the program to better explain what is happening with the American Darts Organization. As this new ubiquitous darting community inspires important change here in the United States, we hope to cover all that we can in hopes of keeping darts alive. If you are making efforts to change darts in America, we would like to hear about it. Join www.dartbook.tv and start your own blog. Give other dart players a reason to be inspired. Thank you all for your continued support. For all the players here in the United States, enjoy your Independence Day.  We will be back the following week with more Darts Around The World.  See you then!

Sea otter in Seward.

Sometimes, your stars align. And, sometimes you never knew they did. That’s why, until today, I never knew this story existed. I’m pretty sure where it began, but not sure when it ends, if ever. And, that’s why this darts-travel blogger is stepping into the proverbial time machine to tell it…

Alaska. With a motto like “North to the Future”, a nickname like “The Last Frontier”, and a flag flying Polaris and the Big Dipper, it already sounds like science fiction. And with its dramatic landscape and climate, it appears to be another world. “Alaska”, “youth darts”, and “the wrinkles of time” are the nexus of this “darticle”, this “pair-a-bull”. And Alaska’s flower, the “Forget-me-Not”, reminds me that this story was almost lost in my memories, somewhere between Oregon and Uruguay, having never been blogged. The threads that tie the time loops together are intricate, interwoven, and beautiful. And, I never knew. I never knew today was the day the stars of this story would align…

Unfortunately, it’s hard to tell a time travel story. I suppose the most logical place to start is with me…and my darts universe.

The autumn of 2005 was when I discovered darts. By 2006, I was in league and loving it. One day, looking at the PortlandAreaDartsAssociation website, I realized that I could post on it. That’s how it began. There was no “Thorn”, no world travels, just an unknown but eager newbie named Adam Smith with some need to write about the love of darts. Very few saw the photos, and even fewer read it, but I didn’t care. I simply enjoyed it, and I was helping spread the game as best I could. I was equally enthusiastic in the bars, encouraging and teaching people to play…

Another sea otter having urchin lunch.

That’s how I met Gavin. He’s from Portland, but spent his summers working the tourist boats in Alaska. One day, over a game of darts, he said, “You know Adam, if you can come to Seward, I can take you whale watching for free.” He said it was an offer he made to many friends, but they never took the opportunity. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t miss my second chance to see Alaska.

My first visit was as a child on a cruise in 1981, snaking through the Inner Passage of Alaska’s panhandle to places like Ketchikan, Juneau, and Glacier Bay. A record heat wave went with us, sending temperatures into the upper 80′s. My memories include a breathtaking whitewater float under bald eagles spotting for bears, or the silent awe as giant blue blocks of ice calved off glaciers into the sea like slow motion explosions, or the whales, dolphins, endless green forests, and crisp stars. But, being before the dawn of digital, any pictures I have are tucked away in family albums somewhere. It was my first cruise, and my last for the next fifteen years.

On my second trip to Alaska, my meteorological luck, like my shadow, followed me again–my visit would be the sunniest week of Summer 2006 in Seward. And this time, I packed my first digital camera and my first set of darts.

My plan was simple: fly to Anchorage, get a lift from Gavin, and travel 125 miles down the Kenai Peninsula to Seward. Landing late at night, I only had one morning and midday to explore Anchorage on foot. I managed to find some dart bars, but my timing, and apparently my camera, was off. It was too early and too summery to find more than a bartender preparing to open, and ask a few questions. But, I did learn about Alaska’s prolific dart leagues, which, as you might guess, are at peak season during their long dark winters. I found something else that day too: my love of travel and darts combined.

So, this is where my story begins, years ago, when I couldn’t see that stars were aligning.  The forgotten memories have added new meaning, and the hidden connections keep unraveling. So, here are my photos in order, with  my reflections on “Alaska”, “youth darts”, and “the wrinkles of time”…

Early afternoon, Gavin arrived in a pickup, and whisked me southward to Seward. Like a welcome committee on cue, a moose appeared and trotted down the highway with us for a quarter mile...

We stopped at a viewpoint along the way, and Gavin and a gal pal posed for a 'Welcome to Alaska' photo.

We arrived in Seward and soon found ourselves in the Sea Breeze Inn, under two dartboards and a pair of frosty Alaskan microbrews.

It wasn't long before more of the whale-watcher crew returned from another day delighting the tourists, and joined the impromptu dart party.

Many good shots were taken that first night in Seward--on the oche and off.

With an iceless harbor, Seward is one of Alaska's oldest and most active ports--it's the lifeline for getting goods to the interior. Cruise boats are regular visitors throughout the summer, and fishing and outdoors enthusiasts are in heaven.

Seward is also known for the disastrous tsunami that ripped the shores in 1964. For that reason, campsites and RV parks line the waterfront property--and gave my tent an epic view that would make oceanologists and geologists jealous.

There's no place like, or as far away as, Nome, the final checkpoint of the modern Iditarod. But, the historic start of the Iditarod, Alaska's infamous dogsled endurance race, begins in Seward. By the way, it's also an anagram for "I Dartoid".

Peaceful esplanades hide the past. Imagine standing on this shore after the Great Alaskan Quake of 1964--at 9.2, it was the second largest earthquake ever recorded. Earth liquefaction and landslides triggered tsunamis that reached 100 feet, obliterating sitting-duck port towns.

Receding glaciers still cling to life in mountaintop cirques above trickling moraines. In 1964, the quakes and tsunamis combined forces with fire and Seward's petroleum and rail industry. The bay fumed and flamed, as wave after wave ripped burning oil and debris from the shore back into the sea, sloshing in toxicity for days.

I spent my first full day preparing camp, and scouting town. Seward is small and walkable. The 'touristy' part of town is sandwiched between the obligatory bars and grocery store. Seward also boasts a nice aquarium, and numerous hikes down forest paths to beautiful views. Tomorrow, I'd go whale watching...

...but tonight was the midsummer party for all the crews that drive the boats. I arrived early, with Gavin, to supervise preparations. Two pigs had already spent hours on the spit, and cold beers and sunshine were already hitting the spot.

Nothing like a palette filled fire pit doused in Alaska's best black gold.

The party arrived long before dark, and everyone reveled in having the best weather of the summer. Food, drinks, and youthful hijinks ensued.

You should have seen it when it was twelve palettes high.

Nothing like eating two pigs to the bone and roasting the skulls like cavemen.

Benny Benson, part Swede, Russian, and Aleut, born in 1913, was orphaned, and eventually moved to Seward. At age 13, he entered a flag design contest for the Alaska Territory, 30 years before statehood. His design beat 700 others--blue represents Alaska's sky and flower, the Northern Star and Ursa Major symbolize the future and strength.

Not missing out on Gavin's original invitation, I embarked on his boat like every other tourist, and got a day full of whale-watching and all you can eat steak and salmon buffet. Not to mention beers. We passed several sea otters and stellar sea lions as we motored out to Resurrection Bay. And, it wasn't long before the captain spotted a pod of orcas.

Perfectly positioned, a dozen healthy killer whales came right at us, and dove beneath our feet.

Mothers lead the young, and each orca told a story in its telltale fin.

After our fill of blue skies and blowholes, we zipped around the peninsula, up the inlet arms to the ancestors of the Ice Age. It's been fifteen years since I've seen them, and it's easy to see signs that they are wilting. Nonetheless, the allure of their sapphire blue glow is beyond description. It's a color everyone should see--the frozen neon electric hum of eons of time and energy.

The towering frigid fortress walls of a glacier make you feel meaningless, hardly worthy to witness it. And a much larger ice castle and ancient kingdom hides behind the small fragment we can see.

On our return trip, a rookery of sea lions yawned and barked and flapped at us and the birds.

A lone fluke of a whale appeared and disappeared for a long dive. I'm guessing it was a humpback, but I really don't recall, or care. Alaska is amazing.

After a long day riding the waves, with plenty of steak, salmon and beer, it was good to feel my sea legs on land as I slowly walked toward the dart bar for a few legs, before bed. And more tomorrow.

To be continued in part two: “The Lost Story Of Alaska: Double Out”

Over and double out.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for us to take a week off while we depart for our long-awaited dart cruise.  It seems like just yesterday that we started this show along with the planning of this trip.  In this episode, we give you a brief overview of what we will be trying to accomplish in regards to this show on our trip.  We will hopefully have live streaming, photos and video.  We also brought Thorn on from the Thorn Report to give some last minute cruise tips while we sail aboard the Norwegian Gem.  We also continued our recruiting efforts by telling you all about The Academy of Darts and Sciences group on Dartbook.  We hope to see all of you interested in being apart of a major dart production to join this group and tell us about your interests regarding technology.  Keep a look out for updates either on twitter @dartsinparadise or on Dartbook.  We will let you know once we decide to stream anything live so don’t miss out! Thank you all for your support and we will see you when we get back!

Mr. David Irete, our producer, finally was able to join us in studio so we took this opportunity to talk about how we can use technology to create a production out of darts in the United States. We talked about commentary, video feeds, camera locations used in the PDC, and the recruiting of people interested in becoming part of the staff. Each event takes a lot of people helping out and this is your chance to offer your support. If you are interested in getting involved in television and learning the ins and outs of broadcasting sports, this will be a great opportunity to get your feet wet. Please contact us at host@dartsaroundtheworld.com for more information on how to get involved. Pay attention listening to this weeks episode because David gives so much useful information that we can all learn from. His expertise will prove critical in our efforts and more importantly, we will have fun doing it! So either email us or leave a comment for this episode to let us know if you want to help. Thank you all for listening and we will be back next week!

For the first time on this show we devoted a whole show just to Youth Darts. We invited on 19 year old Matt Sagen to talk about his goals as a youth player in the United States. He picked up his first set of (soft tip) darts when he was six years old and his father was happy to teach him the game. He is currently living in Yakima, WA and his dream is to one day play for the PDC overseas and hopefully hear in the US. (knock on wood) Brian Jackson at www.mlddarts.com is currently raising money for Matt to travel and get some exposure as a youth player while hopefully jumpstarting the youth players in this country to follow his lead. We want to thank Matt for coming on the show and we look forward to one day introducing him as the world champion right here on Darts Around The World. If you would like to leave a message for Matt, please do so by commenting on this post. We all need to encourage him and this is the best way to do it. I hope everyone enjoyed this episode and we will be back next week with an all new episode. Until then, go out and play darts!