You know it’s not been the wildest Yuletide when the strongest drink from the cabinet is that cough syrup with the bull on the side.
But in the season of sneezing and wheezing, a regular dose of Snakebite has helped to lift the spirits.
I’m not talking the regular Friday-night tipple of a thousand students here but a fella who looks like he’s gone to war with a paint factory – and lost.
Darts player – and fashionista extraordinaire – Peter Wright saved my Christmas. Him and the other not quite so colourful characters who dished up another spell-binding feast of entertainment from the Ally Pally.
Forget that BDO, or Bland, Dull and Ordinary, version that is being flagged up on the BBC for the next week. If you want to remember what life was like in the 1970s, then dig out the Life on Mars boxset from grandma.
No, the Professional Darts Championship once again underlined why they are the Champions’ League of the sport. And yes, their competition is very much a sport and not a pastime.
For 17 days, it had everything. The sensational departure of Phil Taylor to rookie Michael Smith in round two; ridiculous comebacks from the dead by James Wade; a semi-final masterclass from Michael van Gerwen and then the final to beat all bar one of its predecessors.
Raymond van Barneveld’s stunning win over Taylor in 2007 apart, Wednesday night’s showdown between van Gerwen and Wright was as good as it gets.
The Dutchman who was born to be king against the guy whose outlandish appearance made the fancy-dress obsessed audience resemble a Sunday congregation in comparison; Taylor’s young pretender against Jackson Pollock’s walking model.
With the multi-coloured Mohawk, the hissing snake tattoo on his left cheekbone and the garishly-dyed goatee, Wright could be turning out just to win an enormous bet.
But the tasty £100,000 cheque he took home was not for his wardrobe, although it does allow for much improvement.
Wright might look like a nightmare but he played like a dream. Nobody, until van Gerwen kicked again on the home straight, performed better or more consistently over the whole piece.
The biggest fear was that the pressure of reaching a first world final would catch up with him.
And as van Gerwen blasted into a 4-0 lead, the smart money was on the Dutch destroyer going the distance without dropping a set; just as he had done to post-Taylor favourite Adrian Lewis in the last four.
But then Wright rediscovered his doubles and a few chinks in the armour began to appear. If he had landed one shot at double top, the score would have been 5-5.
That bullet avoided, van Gerwen resumed normal express service and rattled through to victory. But it had been close; too close.
The crowd roared for both players, knowing they had seen something special. On our sofa, the Vicks inhaler was temporarily tossed away for a bout of lusty cheers – and loud barks straight after.
You can keep your Downton Abbey special or Sherlock resurrections; this was the pinnacle of the holiday telly.
The good news is that Wright’s heroic efforts have earned him a golden ticket for the Premier League which kicks off soon – and includes a first trip to the Leeds Arena in March.
If it’s half as gripping as what we’ve just witnessed, that has become a must-see event in the sporting calendar.
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