Columnist Ron Kantowski: World of pro darts is making its point

Friday, July 1, 2005 | 10:05 a.m.

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

Las Vegas Desert Classic IV

WHAT: Las Vegas Desert Classic IV professional darts tournament.

WHERE: MGM Grand Garden Arena

WHEN: Saturday, semifinals, 10 a.m.-2 p.m.; Sunday, finals, 10 a.m.-noon.

WHO: World's top-ranked professional darts players from the U.K. and North America.

PURSE: $180,000.

TICKETS: $22 per day. Tickets are available at any MGM box office and Las Vegas Ticketmaster locations, including Tower Records/WOW, Smith's Food and Drug Centers and Robinsons-May stores.

ON THE WEB: www.planetdarts.co.uk

It was 3:15, or, as they say on the other side of the pond, a quarter-past three, when a dapper gentleman with a gravelly British accent approached the microphone, cueing the loud rock music.

From a darkened corner of the world's largest pub -- heretofore known as the MGM Grand Garden -- two combatants wearing loose-fitting shirts that did little to disguise waistlines sculpted by Guinness strode through long tables of spectators who cheered and called their names.

In a booth at the back of the hall, the broadcast team from Sky Sports -- think ESPN without the goofy catch-phrases -- pored over notes and straightened ties.

The Professional Darts Corporation was on the air.

That's right, pro darts. On television. And here you thought Arena Football on NBC was a stretch.

The game of darts has been around since the 18th century but the sport of professional darts didn't exist until 1978. It has emerged from the shadows of British pubs and taverns to become one of the most-watched sports on the telly in England, second only to the Premiership, the Motherland's revered pro soccer league. Although still mostly a British sport, pro darts is making inroads in such diverse locales as Holland, China and yes, even Las Vegas.

This is the fourth year the MGM is serving as host of the Las Vegas Desert Classic, featuring most of the best darts throwers in the U.K. and four straight-shooters from North America.

Like most Yanks, MGM publicity chief Scott Ghertner was oblivious of the depth of pro darts' popularity in England until this past weekend, when he spent the last day of a European vacation in London.

"It was all over TV," Ghertner said. "Pro darts, live from the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. That's why we do this."

The reason they do it in England is because there's a natural audience for it. As PDC spokseman Dave Allen told me, "anybody who has even set foot in a pub has probably thrown a dart."

That would include Ricky Hatton, the pride of Manchester, who just a few hours before upsetting Kostya Tszyu to win the world 140-pound boxing title a couple of weeks ago was spotted in a nearby pub, tossing darts with the local lads.

Allen said tickets for the big tournaments usually sell out the first day with the success of the televised tour even spawning a special pay-per-view event last year.

As entertainment, pro darts is kind of like a Formula One race. The start is spectacular before the event settles into a fairly predictable pattern.

After the initial WWE-style assault on the senses, the arena grew quiet Wednesday although, I am told, that usually isn't the case in some of the more raucous U.K. darts venues, such as Yorkshire and Blackpool. It was like watching Tiger Woods line up a putt, followed by a barely audible thwap, thwap, thwap -- the sound of tungsten meeting cork.

It can go on like that for as long as 4 1/2 hours, when players of equal talent square off, or far less time, when Phil "The Power" Taylor toes the line.

A high-school dropout from Stoke-on-Trent, a region in central England situated between the blue-collar cities of Manchester and Birmingham known for its many potteries, Taylor is the Michael Jordan of his sport. He is to British darts what David Beckham is to British football, only without the mod haircut and pop star wife. He has won the pro darts world championship an unprecedented 12 times, seven more than his closest pursuer.

If darts is the sport of the commoner, then Taylor is its poster child. He looks like a Teamster, with multiple tattoos splashed up and down his beefy forearms. Before he starting tossing darts for a living, Taylor worked in a factory that manufactured old world toilets, and his job was making the chains.

I swear I'm not yanking yours.

Taylor, who has won two of the previous three Las Vegas Classics, is one of about 20 players who makes his living throwing darts on tour. The tournament here features a purse of $180,000, which in pounds is ... well, almost as many as Kirstie Alley has been carrying.

In tournament darts, the game of choice is 501, which is sort of based on a field sobriety test. Players count backward from 501 -- which may explain why drinking is against the rules -- with the object to reach zero. But you must throw a dart in the doubles area on the board to end a game.

To those in the MGM who weren't quite sure what they were watching Wednesday -- that would have been me -- it appeared Taylor's radar-like aim was failing him when he needed a Double 7 to close out a leg early in his match. Usually, he can do that blindfolded from the concourse. But his first dart landed just south of the Double 7. Ditto for the second.

But using the two errant darts as a gauntlet, Taylor calmly slotted his third one smack dab in the middle of the Double 7 with the nonchalance of a guy flicking ashes from a cigar.

Remember those 4 1/2-hour matches that sometimes develop between evenly matched players? This one didn't take that long. It lasted all of 25 minutes as Taylor beat a hasty retreat from the arena, his many supporters slapping him across his broad back on the way out.

Elvis had left the building, although it wouldn't have surprised me had he stopped for a smoke on the way out.

Allen told me there are more than 20 million recreational or "garage" darts throwers in the U.S., and once Americans learn this is a sport that can be played with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, that figure may double.

But if you go out to watch this weekend, don't do as I did and ask if you can flip over one of the boards, hoping to find a baseball diamond on the other side.