IN THIS WEEK’S COVID-19 DIARY, TALKS ABOUT DARTS, AND HOW HE HAD A FALLING OUT, IN HIS DREAMS, WITH THE ‘BOMBER’ LISTON.
Wednesday, May 13
DEAR Diary – Darts has always been a bizarre sport, but COVID-19 has scraped every last ounce of weirdness from it.
Live darts is still happening, you see. The players live-video themselves playing at home, call out what they’ve scored, and then their opponent takes a turn and does the same. People tune in each night to watch two professionals face each other, even if those professionals are on opposite sides of the world from one another as the match is ongoing.
But you need a good broadband connection to play in the video-cast tournament, something two-time World Champion Gary Anderson didn’t have, preventing him from taking part up to now.
Today he has announced his broadband is strong enough to participate. He’ll take to the oche on Saturday.
It’s just so different from any other sport, isn’t it? You don’t need to be fit, you don’t even need to be in the same room as the person you’re playing against, but you do need a good broadband supplier nowadays.
Yet Darts’ popularity continues to grow and grow, and even COVID-19 can’t stop it.
The one thing it misses these days is the late Sid Waddell’s commentary. Imagine Bill McLaren, Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh, Murray Walker, Mícheál Ó hEithir, and Peter O’Sullevan rolled into one.
“Jocky Wilson: what an athlete,”
Waddell once said. The late Wilson was obese; drank and smoked heavily during matches; and hardly had a tooth left because he ate too many sweets. He wasn’t an athlete.
Thursday, May 14
DEAR Diary – My dreams have been very weird since COVID-19 started. Apparently that’s been common enough throughout this crisis, but the one I’ve just woken up from this morning was a new low for me.
In this dream, my family and I decided to go to Killarney for a meal, and it took us about five seconds to get there from Lios Póil. This was no ordinary restaurant, by the way: it doubled up as a snooker club.
I was dying for a game, but every time I made my way to a free snooker table, someone would get there before me and start playing. I just went around and around the club looking for a table but never got one, and I eventually gave up.
Then I went outside and took a phone call, and for some reason I was slating Waterford football. And for some reason, Eoin ‘Bomber’ Liston was next to me, listening to the phone call. And for some reason, he took great offence to me saying Kerry would have no problem beating Waterford. And for some reason, this led me have a falling out with a seven-time All-Ireland winner.
I’ve never had a dream featuring a Kerry football legend before. In real life, I’ve only spoken to Bomber Liston once, during a brief interview after a council civic reception for Mick O’Dwyer, and I found no problem with the man. So I’m not sure why I’m arguing with the fella in my nightmares now.
It probably didn’t help that I called him ‘Billy’ throughout the dream. He called me ‘a pup’. At least one of us was right.
Friday, May 15
DEAR Diary – We have confirmation: we’ll be taking our first meaningful steps back to normality on Monday.
As someone who has been lucky enough to have work throughout this crisis, the big thing to take from the announcement is that groups of up to four can meet up once they keep the two-metre rule.
I’m someone who hasn’t made enough effort in recent years to meet up with my friends on a regular basis, but after a lot of soul-searching – and there’s been plenty time for that with the last few weeks – that’s something that’s going to have to change going forward.
And I’m looking forward to meeting up with the boys soon and having a few cans in a garden – any garden but mine.
One of them is already on board with that plan – we’ve been discussing it with weeks – so now it’ll be a matter of getting a few more on board.
Groups must be limited to four people, and I’ve more than three friends surprisingly, so in all likelihood we’ll have to draw up a rota to ensure we all meet each other at some point in the coming weeks.
I haven’t sent a text or a Snapchat to any of the lads on this matter yet as I am too lazy: so if they’re reading this, get in touch.
The weekend
Another weekend, another movie night in Lios Póil: this time we went with Uncut Gems, in which Adam Sandler plays a useless jeweller and gambling addict – two things you don’t want to be useless at.
While Sandler’s character was a terrible person, Sandler himself, for once, was not terrible. He gives an excellent performance, in fact, which leads me to wonder why he’s spent so many years wasting a talent I didn’t think he had.
And as weird as ‘Once Upon a Time in Hollywood’ was last week, it was even weirder to watch an Adam Sandler film that was: A) serious; and B) good.
It was very good, actually, though I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone with a weak heart. Sandler’s character gets himself into dreadfully stressful situations throughout, and by the end I felt like I’d played an All-Ireland final. Very intense altogether.
Still, for a full two hours and 15 minutes, I didn’t think once about Coronavirus. It’s a lot better to have one’s mind occupied than spending that time dwelling on a something we can’t do a whole pile about.