Tired and half-shoeless

First 180 of October

Hit it during a cricket game against the bot. I then proceeded to lose the leg (after being 140 points up). So it goes, Kurt, so it goes.

I shouldn't have been playing. I'm tired. And you shouldn't play darts when you're tired. But a 180 is a 180, and it's the first 180 I've hit for a while where the dartitis didn't kick in after the first two T20s.

 

98/50

"Hemel Hempstead is Hemel Hempstead"

Yep, that was a genuine piece of dialogue from a Play For Today. From 1976  . . . and it wasn't even using Hemel Hempstead as a punchline for a change. I guess there was never many laughs in Play For Today back in the day when you think about it. Though to direct any sort of criticism - however mild - at the PFT canon can result in a lynch mob turning up at your door.

Anyway, back to the darts. The Dart Bot still thinks it's peak Phil Taylor but I messed with its head by scoring a Round 9. It'll punish me repeatedly over the next few days.

*The Play For Today? Bernard Kops' Rocky Marciano Is Dead.

The Bitterest Pill (I Ever Had to Swallow)*

I don't make a habit of posting partial results and/or breakdown of a First to a 100 game, but I thought it was worthwhile this time to both illustrate my recent dip in form (with an added sprinkle of ongoing dartitis), and my (possible) recovery.

I'm still 5 points down in my '01 averages but I'm a bit more hopeful today than I was 3 or 4 days ago. I'll take it.

01-10 (3-7)

11-20 (0-10)

21-30 (1-9)

31-40 (1-9)

41-50 (4-6) 

51-60 (4-6)

61-70 (1-9)

71-80 (4-6)

81-90 (7-3)

91-100 (5-5) 

101-110 (7-3)

*Yes, I was listening to The Jam today whilst playing cricket. This brilliant compilation. 

Carry on with your woes

Missed about 4 or 5 180s before this one, The Dartitis is really playing up at the moment. 

Same situation every time: I hit the first two T20s and then my arm cannot release the third dart. I then jerk my arm in a semi-farcical fashion for about 30 seconds before I can eventually throw the dart. It usually lands low in either the 1 or the 5 bed. On this occasion it miraculously landed in the T20.

What with the League up and running, I can't swear off practicing but for the foreseeable future I'm just going to throw in the apartment. No playing - and losing - to the Dart App in the apartment. Just throw darts at the board to try and get some sort of rhythm back.

97/50

Play for Today: The Black Stuff (1980)

 

Reacher (2026)

 

55 - 100 "Well, that was fucking expected."

Opponent: Computer Level 9

Date Started: 31st August 2026

Date Finished: 17th September 2026

Two heavy defeats on the same day. 

Isn't misery supposed to come in threes? Oh, aye, Celtic got turned over by Ferencváros in the Europa League tonight. That'll be the third pint of misery. 

Duran gave an Oscar worthy performance as the invisible man. Hogh said "Tonight, Matthew, I will play Peter Withe, except no one will tell the referee and I'll get whistled for fouls every three minutes." Anything else? Yes, Arzani will return to Parkhead and score an absolute peach of a goal, putting the tie beyond Celtic. Arzani's the Iranian born Australian winger who spent two years on loan at Celtic and was only afforded the opportunity to make a name for himself in two fixtures over two years. That's right: two games. Marvin Compper made more of an impression at Parkhead.

Nice set up for Sunday's return fixture against R*ngers . . .  said no one ever.

The darts stats tell me all I need to know. Further confirmation that my averages are down, and that I'm going through a sustained dip. A 'dip' suggests that I'll recover my averages. Such things are never guaranteed. Especially if I don't put in place a training routine which would help improve my overall performance. It's all on me.

What I am going to do going forward is to stick with the One80 Rectifiers. I need a thinner dart right now, and that's the best of a bad lot. I'll see what happens.

37 - 100 "Well, that was fucking awful."

Opponent: Computer Level 9

Date Started: 21st July 2026

Date Finished: 17th September 2026

Serves me right. 

As I kept beating the Level 8 of the Russ Bray Dart App at cricket, I decided to take the step up to Level 9 for the usual marathon first-to-100 match. Within about 4 legs I realised that Level 9 thought it was Luke Littler on steroids, a Luke Littler on steroids with a sadistic streak. 

The sensible thing would have been to abandon the game and go back to Level 8. Sadly, I don't do sensible when it comes to darts. That meant two months of 'What the fuck?' as it hit Rounds of 6s, 7s, and 9s as I was scrambling to hit a single 18. I repeat: Level 9. For context, the Russ Bray App goes up to Level 20, which makes you wonder what sort of game that would be like. I wondered so much that I 'played' a single leg of cricket against Level 20. Here's the damage:

T20, T20, T19

T18, T17, S16

T16, S15, T15

S15, SB, DB

That's the Level 20's stats. My stats are lost to the ether.

Back to Level 8 for the cricket . . . back to my station in life (and darts).

I'm toying with myself

 Darts really does know how to mess with your head.

96/50

May to September

I hadn't hit a 180 in about a month so, for the hell of it, I switched up my darts. What do you know? I hit a 180 10-15 minutes later.

The problem is, I've been here before. And it wasn't that long ago. I'm not complaining. I really needed that 180 but I'm not reading too much into it.

95/50

MySpace no more . . . Twitter no more . . . Facebook no more

And now the end is near, and I didn't think it would be Lexulous that would be the tipping point. So it goes.

Proclaimers, Sinatra and Vonnegut. I'll take it.

A nice word for the final lap.

Happy Valley (2016)

 

Happy Valley (2014)

 

At Home with the Braithwaites (2000)

 

Downtown

I can't buy a 180 right now . . . so I had to go downstairs. 

Ludwig (2024)

 

New downstairs neighbour

A funny story  . . . but I'll save it for my memoirs.

Black '47 (2018)

 

XTC: This Is Pop (2017)

 

Miller's Crossing (1990)

 

Sinners (2025)

 

Busted Ruinate *

Busted on 180. (I actually went for the 180.) I've been here before. I just didn't realised how many times before:

• Sep 7th 2022
• Feb 12th 2024
• Sep 20th 2024
• Nov 12th 2024
• Mar 12th 2025
• Apr 22nd 2025

The strange thing is that when I entered the score of 180 into the Russ Bray Dart App to acknowledge the busted throw, it recorded it as a 180 outshot. Did someone come up with a new rule change whilst I wasn't looking? 

So, either the app is busted ruinated fucked, or it is just another reminder that I originally opted the cheap arse bargain basement dart app all those years ago. Probably a combination of both.

94/50

*I realised I kept falling back on 'busted' as a post title for such 180s, so I broke out the online Merriam-Webster dictionary and plumped for 'ruinate' instead . . . it's just not the same. (In a Matt Berry voice.)

Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa (2013)

 

'Have I seen you lately?'

Posted early morning August 17th.

First 180 in three weeks. First 180 of August. If you are going to slump, go in all the way, folks.

Back on the Target Carreras for this 180. (I've since reverted back to the Designa Dark Thunders again.) Me umming and aaing about what darts to use, where to stand, am I left eye dominant or right eye dominant?, what grip should I try? etc, etc, all add up to the fact that I'm totally down in the dumps with the darts right now. I should take an extended break . . .  but I won't.

I could have sworn the Van Morrison song was entitled 'Have I seen you lately?' Just another thing I'm getting wrong lately.

Van the Man. Half genius, half wanker.

93/50

Strangers on a Train (1951)

 

This pans out . . .

This is the kind of misinformation on the internet that I can get behind.

Should have posted this a month ago but I was too busy enjoying the football . . .

My kids don't like football . . . or Maths  . . . or History.

What do they like?

A screenshot from an old issue of Roy of the Rovers. I don't actually remember the strip itself. It was called 'The boy who did not like football'. Sod him.

Fake it till you make it

15 darts thrown (2 bounced out). There's a (fake) 180 in there somewhere.

Dicking around 'cos my darts' performance at the moment are absolutely shocking. It's my worst slump in at least a year. No cast iron explanation but a lot of bullshit theories. The least bullshit - and, therefore, the most plausible - is that I'm just winding down on the darts. A combination of age, health, indifference and just feeling fucking blah.

All melancholy aside, throwing multiple darts at the board in a random fashion actually serves some purpose. It's good for the dartitis . . .  if nothing else.  I even threw the darts without using the 'fake' throw. I haven't thrown darts like that for a while.

Counting backwards

Posted the 8th August (late morning).

Currently in a slump with regards to the darts. (I seem to start a lot of darts posts with that line . . . but this time it's even worse.)

Deliberating whether or not I should go to a local dart event this afternoon. Not because I'm playing well and I think I can get something out of it but because I'm playing badly and I need to push myself. I probably won't.

91/50

Honkers

Posted the 8th August (late morning).

Honkers? What? 

Lexulous made me do it. Not even my bingo. Someone else's. So why am I mentioning it? 'Cos it struck me funny. Why am I doing a poor imitation of David Peace? Not enough repetition for the full Peace experience.

89/50

Bunker mentality

A variation on an old joke.

Let them eat (British) confectionary

Posted the 8th August (late morning).

In an alternative universe, Bastille rhymes with (fruit) pastilles.

88/50

Play for Today: A Mother Like Him (1982)

 

An Accidental Studio (2019)

 

Hollywood: A Third Memoir by Larry McMurtry (Simon & Schuster 2010)

 

HOLLYWOOD—as opposed movies, its principal product—entered my life almost simultaneously with my son, James McMurtry, who arrived in March 1962, at which time I was teaching world literature—all of it, from the Ramayana to Dylan Thomas—at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas. To the farm and oil patch kids I was teaching, literature—or at least my mandated selection of it—held little appeal. In desperation I began to challenge these reluctant students to Ping-Pong matches, a game at which I was then quite good. If a student won, he or she got an A; if they lost they got a C.

That may seem a little unorthodox, but then five classes is a lot of classes. Between matches I was able to make friends with two writers, John Graves and Dave Hickey, both still alive and both still friends.

Then one day a man from Paramount Studios called, taking me by surprise. He turned out to be a location scout—that night he took me to dinner at what was probably the best restaurant in Fort Worth. Though, by this time, I had lived in both Houston and San Francisco, I knew nothing of fine dining. The man wore a pin-striped suit which bespoke a standard of eloquence far beyond my own. Though the suit was probably just normal Brooks Brothers, I remember it to this day; and I also remember the news he brought me, which was that Paramount had just bought the film rights to my slight first novel, Horseman, Pass By, and planned to film it in the Panhandle of Texas, starting almost immediately, with Paul Newman to star. The sum they planned to pay me, $10,000, meant, to me, farewell forever to the Ramayana and to table tennis as a grading system as well.

Hey, I made this . . .

Posted in early August.

Two points: 

1. It would have been funnier if I'd actually posted this on the day I made it. (Minutes after the game had ended.)
2. Don't get judge a man too harshly who wants to clear up his desktop.

This meme refers to this game.

Rik Mayall: Magnificent B’Stard (2026)

 

Listening to podcasts about Adrian Mole and a family revelation

Posted late evening June 27th.

Just walked in whilst listening to a podcast about the enduring brilliance of Adrian Mole,  only to meet with the sad realisation that I'm the only member of my immediate family who likes Bolands Raspberry Cremes.

Absolute bloody heathens.

87/50

Fantastic Four

Last time I hit 4 180s in one day was early May of last year.

86/50

Three's a charm

Maybe I should dial down the practice more. I haven't really been playing that much  in the past week - here and there - and I'm suddenly hitting some sort of form again. Funny how that works.

85/50

That Spongebog meme . . .

You know the one . . . 

Actually, can six minutes qualify as "A few moments later"? 

In a darting timeline, probably . . . why not  . . . leave me the fuck alone.

84/50

Half a man

A couple of days ago I got one of those Facebook Memories thingies in my timeline, where I was informed that this time last year I'd just hit my 150th 180 in 2025. Sadly, I can't link to that 180 on the blog 'cos I've yet to post it. (My continuing bad.)

Why the drop off? No idea. I can't really blame the dartitis 'cos I'm sure the dartitis was up and running last year. Have I played less? I can't be certain but, if I was to guess, I'd say that in fact I've played more this year. That leaves me with the conclusion that last year just happened to be an exceptional year, and I've just levelled out again . . . reverting back to where I'm truly at. A bit of a come down but why lie to yourself?

Anyway, I still have plans to adopt a proper practice routine to see if I can improve my game . . . and I just hit my 83rd 180 of 2026. One of those 180s where I didn't necessarily realise that I was aiming for the 180 with my third dart.

 

83/50

P.S.

I'm back on the Dark Thunders.

Blue Moon: Down Among the Dead Men with Manchester City by Mark Hodkinson (Mainstream Publishing 1999)

 

Royle and Donachie are contrary personalities, but they share a cultural background from which much of British football is still forged. Donachie was brought up in the Gorbals district of Glasgow, one of five children living in a house without a bath where several families shared the same outside toilet. Royle lived in inner-city Liverpool, forced to sleep on a camp-bed in his parent’s bedroom because of a shortage of space. Football was their ticket to somewhere better.

Time has not lent enchantment to Donachie’s view of his home city of the ’50s and early ’60s. ‘The shipyards were closing down and it was a hard place to grow up in. There were gangs on the streets and it was a very aggressive environment. If you showed any interest in your school work you were seen as a swot,’ he says. His mother died when he was 12 and he did not get on particularly well with his lorry-driver father. ‘He was a hard Glasgow man who would never show his feelings or emotions. He didn’t really give me much encouragement, except to say I was crap! He gave me one good piece of advice though; he told me to try and find a club in England.

A Hard Day's Night (1964)

 

Hello Beautiful

File under using song titles as post titles. A brilliant comeback song from Dodgy.

If 'Hello Beautiful' isn't in my Spotify Top Ten at the end of the year, then Unwrapped is a crock of bogus shite.

82/50

"It's like talking to a wall with a moustache."

My first 180 for a couple of weeks. My longest drought since mid-January. It doesn't help that I've been throwing the Harrow Graflite darts, which are a chunkier dart and makes it all the harder for the third dart to find a spot in the T20 bed.

Why throw the Harrows, then? In truth I'm having a flat period with the darts at the moment. Maybe because it's the post-season blues, maybe 'cos the NYC hot summers have kicked in. That partially explains why I'm not being as serious with my darts, and why I'm using a dart which I know is not ideal in the long term. 

I promised myself that once the season was over that I'd commit myself to proper training routine to improve my game. Practising doubles . . . practising checkouts . . . the whole shebang. Sadly, I'm not there yet.

81/50

Where to Land (2025)

 

The Play on One: The Party (1988)

 

The Unbelievable Truth (1989)