They always finding stuff here. Every time the guardians of the Alexander Palace undertake some renovation work in the 17-year-old building, they find artifacts from the venue’s past: some human history in the rubble. It’s usually just rusty coins and ticket stubs. But then it was time to find perfectly preserved vials of the first prototype of the tetanus vaccine embedded in the wall, leftovers from when the place was the first hospital of the world war. Or a bit of Victorian-era graffiti from a lowly businessman, reading: “The wages of sin is death, the wages of the carpenter are worse.”
What will they find today, decades from now, in the dusty tents of the palace and the rotten floors under its floor? What will the archivists of the future make of the loose nun’s wimples, the obsolete receipt for the halloumi pocket square (only £12.50 at 2024 prices), the many small plastic sachets containing traces of mysterious white powdery relics? What will the stories tell us now?
It’s probably not – if we’re being completely honest – the story of how Thibault Tricole overcame Joe Comito in the opening night game before succumbing to the defending champion Light Humphries in round two. Or Keane Barry upsetting Kim Huybrechts, or Jermaine Wattimena continuing the 2024 scintillation with a fine over Stefan Bellmont.
There wasn’t any, or it was said to be different. Humphries asked well, in case you were wondering, at least when he didn’t make a mistake in each of the five. But in a curious inversion of the common dynamics of big-time sports, it sometimes happens when what happens on stage feels completely passé. All the rest remained palaces and people.
Yes to 2025 Professional weapons The corporation of the world cup, the curtain raising which now also feels like a kind of cultural ritual, the only sporting event that will also remind you that you have not yet started your Christmas shopping. They swell the hill in extra clothes and discolored fabrics, pilgrims over urine, songs of praise and songs of booty, also a song about Yaya Touré. Who is playing? Ah some French bloke.
Tricole looked a pale shadow of the player who knocked Gerwyn Price out of the Players Championship Final last month: he burned a little under the lights as Humphries aspired to him with a barely average performance of 91. But it was his first opponent, Comito e. Perth, who also stole the hearts of the crowd on their Pally debut in a 3-1 defeat. A 40-hour round trip of one game shooter. Don’t listen to anyone who calls this a pub game.
Wattimena, a European Championship finalist, averaged nearly 100 in the Whitening of Bellmont. But perhaps the highlight of the night belonged to 22-year-old Barry from County Meath in Ireland, who scored 95 in a 3-1 win over Huybrechts. In his sensible glasses and wiry beard, Barry looks less like a professional darts player and more like an undercover PhD student researching professional darts players for his final thesis. But he’s got talent to fire, and if the price takes a hit on Monday, he’ll be in line for his biggest career payday.
The wages of sin is death; A world cup player’s salary is £7,500 for one night’s work, rising to a potential £500,000. Money runs this game now: all 90,000 tickets for this event were sold in 15 minutes this summer, and Barry Hearn reckons the PDC could fill this venue three times. And so in the Palace, wrapped up in all tradition and affection, you wonder if a marriage has been arranged at this time.
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Publicly, the PDC diamonds aren’t going anywhere for now. Unofficially, they’re definitely thinking about. The Saudi exodus is still somewhat off, but London’s ExCeL and the Olympics are both on the table. Of course, this is what any capitalist does when demand exceeds supply. they did not carelessly enrich themselves with weapons.
But, equally, some just, that is. From Victorian pigeon races to 21st century drone racing, from suffragette meetings to same-sex marriage ceremonies, from superheroes to guys dressed as superheroes shooting, this has always been a place where the masses have been accustomed to catching up on extraordinary dreams. They blow up the hill, they bury their palace while it is still available, they diligently press today’s fast into tomorrow’s dust.