Put Darts In The Olympics You Cowards

The International Olympic Committee has provisionally approved breakdancing, rock climbing, skateboarding, and surfing for inclusion in the 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games, representing a dedicated push to “urbanise” the games and give them broader appeal. But the IOC has, quite glaringly, ignored the one sport guaranteed to bring relevance back to the Games and unite the entire globe under one bawdy, unified sporting banner: Darts.

Put darts into the Olympic Games immediately. It has to be done. It’s the only sport that makes sense. Observe my thesis thusly.

[jwplayer H1YiR00C]


Sure, you might dive into the ticketing ballot and come out with seats at the trap shooting or canoeing and be perfectly ok with it. But picture this: Your number is called. You’ve got tickets to the Olympic darts in Tokyo. You stroll into the packed arena; tables lined with souvenir steins emblazoned with the Olympic Rings, all overflowing with ice cold Asahi. The arena absolutely heaving; packed to the rafters with 1,000 people all named Gareth, all wearing nylon-blend $10 party shirts from Lowes, all smelling vaguely of pork scratchings. The Opening Ceremony might be the jewel in the crown, but a seat at the Olympic Darts final? That’s the crown itself.


The Pentathlon sucks. What Olympic moron thought that shit up? Pierre de bloody Wankstain? Come on. Why have we willingly put up with Pentathlon – a beer league sport for amateur cowards not quite good enough at any one sport to make it to the Olympics in their own right – when the one true beer league sport for mighty professionals is right there? The Pentathlon is ass. Darts is king. The answer is simple.


The spirit of the Olympics is about competition, friendship, and unity. But it lacks a certain danger to it. The kind of danger that only a rolling maul of pissed berks who have spent three hours locked in a chamber of each others’ farts can rouse. One furious Balkan father at the gymnastics can be easily subdued by arena security. But there’d be absolutely no stopping a throng of 1,000 Duncans hell-bent on peeling their second-hand Mambo shirts off and crashing the stage because someone in the tech area made the mistake of playing Tubthumping over the PA. It’d be a thing of true beauty.


Picture the absolute scenes. Competitors from all over the world converging to try and bash out the first Olympic nine-dart finish. Some gravelly-voiced old chav howling out “ONE HUNDRED AND EIIIIIIGHTYYYYYY” in four different languages. Spectators arm-in-arm, egging each other on to neck back literal litres of lukewarm beer because, deep down, everyone is a pisspot through-and-through. That’s darts, baby. That’s the grand appeal of it.


Finally, the most important reason of all to include darts in the Tokyo programme: Turning absolute fucken units into Olympic champions. Other sports heavily favour the fit, the fast, the impossibly ripped. Only darts targets the superhuman within, elevating your common pub patron to a Roman God.

Imagine this absolute beast ascending the dais, claiming gold for Great Britain in the men’s open competition?

Or this deadset weapon, proudly representing Australia in the Olympics’ newly minted centrepiece event?

Kings. Kings among common men.

Loose units one and all, and only the loosest can claim Gold.

Put Darts in the Olympics immediately. You know it makes sense.