An afternoon with Sid
Friday 2 January 2009 08:19, UK
Sid Waddell takes skysports.com behind the scenes at the World Darts Championship.
The Voice of Darts gives us a taste of life backstage at Ally Pally
Sorry mum. The socks were nice, but the best present this darts fan received this Christmas was when Sky Sports let me spend an afternoon in the company of Sid Waddell at the world championship. As you'll surely know if you've tuned in to big-time darts during the last 32 years, Sid is the Geordie Banshee whose unique take on proceedings has made him not just a darts commentator, but part of the very fabric of the sport. Most of us tune in for his yelps and quips as much as the action itself. It would be reasonable to suspect he might not be as colourful and charismatic outside the commentary box, but you couldn't be more wrong. From the moment I arrived in the Alexandra Palace press room he was full of verve and character, happily regaling me with stories and clearly brimming with excitement as the tournament reaches the closing stages. The world darts championship, he tells me, is the best party on the planet. Well if that's the case then Sid is the life and soul of it.A maze of monitors
I've barely had time to take my coat off before he's whisked me away to take a look around the Sky Sports darts production units - a hugely impressive maze of trucks and monitors located in the Ally Pally backstage area. It's hard to believe how much work and technology goes into bringing the event into your living room. They've added it up and Sky Sports will be showing 83 hours of live coverage this year. It takes an army of technicians a week to set up all of the cables, screens, cameras and lighting rigs - and with 23 different camera angles to choose from the coverage surely couldn't be any more comprehensive. Sid prowls around the backstage area, introducing me to the great and the good of the behind-the-scenes crew. We pop in on Rod Harrington and Stuart Pyke in the commentary box before heading up a short flight of stairs to the studio where Dave Clark anchors the coverage. The Sky Sports studio overlooks the crowd and stage and it's at that point I realised the magnitude of the venue. The dartboard looks miniscule on the grand stage, while the enormous crowd (I spy the Beatles, Supergirl, Sylvester the Cat and about 100 Hawaiian shirts among the colourful throng) are gathered around a number of seemingly never-ending tables with hundreds more on tiered seating around the back and sides.
Back in the press room and we're joined by two of Sid's partners in crime as fellow commentating legends John Gwynne and Dave Lanning sit with us to watch Mervyn King's third-round clash with Dennis Smith on the television.
Both are as engaging, friendly and enthusiastic as Sid and I soon find myself bombarded with anecdotes and stories from all directions. They don't want me to reveal exactly how many years of experience they have between them, but they've been around the block a few times and certainly have some good tales to tell.
Waiting for launch
I'm due to join Sid and Dave in the commentary box for the final match of the afternoon session once King v Smith has finished. However, a third-round match can take between 30 minutes and three hours to complete so they don't know exactly what time they'll be on air. "It's the waiting around that kills you," says Dave.
As King races into a quick three-set lead, Dave and Sid start revving themselves up for action. More importantly, Sid says, the session might be finished in time for him to get to the catering tent before they run out of chips.
But he's soon forced to calm down as Smith (never the speediest thrower at the best of times) pulls a set back and starts to make a fight of it. "It looks like we might have to go to the flipping sushi bar instead," Sid grumbles, seeing his chip supper being whipped from under his nose.
As impressed as they are with Smith's efforts, the pair of them are almost willing him to miss doubles in the fifth set and as King seals a 4-1 victory, Sid and Dave leap up out of their chairs. "It's showtime!" Sid beams.
As we head towards the commentary box, Sid is instantly recognised by scores of fans who race to the barriers to demand autographs. He's happy to pose for photos and duly obliges when a couple of lads ask him to show him some dance moves. "You're a legend," they shout. "Even if we can't understand a word you say!"
In the box
The commentary box is situated on the floor of the arena at the end of the walkway where the players make their entrance. Just about big enough for the three of us to squeeze into, it is surrounded by black curtains with a window at the front that faces more towards the crowd than the stage. In fact, Sid can't even see the dartboard from his position. They commentate on the action using the five screens situated on a desk in front of them, while more information is fed to them through headphones.
Despite all of the technology, Sid still relies on a number of crumpled pieces of paper covered with illegible scribblings - including his fabled yellow sheets of paper which list all of the possible three-dart finishes. He's had those notes since 1978 and claims he wouldn't know what to do without it.
As the lights go down and the players - Wayne Mardle and Co Stompe - make their entrances, Sid starts to perform a bizarre ritual of coos and shrieks which his vocal coach has given him to exercise his voice. Ever the entertainer, he pretends to be a monkey while he does them before waving at the crowd through the window and dancing excitedly.
Edge of his seat
If you think he sounds animated during a match, that's nothing compared to actually seeing him in action. He lurches forward to the edge of his seat throughout, only allowing himself to lean back when he whoops with delight to mark a 180. It's a wonder he doesn't fall off at chair sometimes. Apparently he did once - and ended up calling the winning shot lying on his back on the floor of the booth. No such dramas today, but at one point he did thrust the microphone into his face with such force that it cracked off his teeth and he was worried he might have cut his lip. In comparison to Sid's animated antics to my left, Dave Lanning seems almost a calming presence to my right, observing that, due to his unusual decision to play in shirt sleeves, "Co Stompe is the only player who could have a cufflink maker as his sponsor."
The commentary is of course littered with wonderful analogies and hilarious puns with Neil Diamond, the Klangers, the canals of Amsterdam and line dancing all mentioned before the first set has ended.
None of their lines are prepared in advance. There are no notes with jokes on them and all of it comes off the top of their heads. The speed with which they make their analogies reminds me of freestyle poetry. Perhaps if they'd been born in a different place and in a different era they might have been able to give Eminem a run for his money in one of those Eight Mile style rap battles.
