WDF World Cup 2013

Thorn's 2013 World Cup, Part 3
Monday night was still far from over. After darts at Rosie O'Grady's we went back to the Capital. I ran into Jacques Nieuwlaat at the lobby, and for the third time in three years in a third country, Jacques and I traded handshakes and brotherly hugs. Just weeks earlier he had asked me to be a columnist for his newly updated website, and here we were at another World Cup, and now he was in my stories again too. I met his lovely wife as well, Bianca, who, along with other international players, was boarding a shuttle bus to go downtown and party on George Street. I jumped in the bus and yelled, "Who loves the darts!?" and got a great picture of the raucous response.
The welcome banquet was happening down at the Armory, and many players were there reuniting and making new friends. Others were still arriving on late planes, or were simply too tired from long flights. Sadly, I learned that two African teams had to withdraw entirely from the tournament, unable to even come to Canada due to world political turmoil and the last minute challenge of getting visas.

But, I was with Team Canada, and with two local players on the team, we had plenty of private transportation to deliver us to George Street. We stopped by the banquet, hoping to catch the end, but most people had already returned to their hotels to sleep off some jet lag or were out exploring George Street themselves.
By now, nearly the whole team was there: David Cameron, Chris Wallace, Billy and Troy, Cindy Hayhurst, and a host of representatives of Canadian darts like Sandi, Lesley, Terri, Julie, Preston, Tammy and Tammie. Only teammates Dianne Gobeil, a French-Canadian, and youth players Dawson Murschell and Alicia Looker were missing, for possibly obvious reasons. But the rest of us were about to hit the town...somehow, and with great appreciation, I was included. It was a hilarious night of Canadian camaraderie, drinks flowing at the expected pace with a ton of Molson's, Canadian's and Screechy drinks disappearing. After a few rounds at Shamrock City, we laughingly straggled over to Chirstian's. Live music was blaring from every bar, but the acoustic guitarist in Christian's beat them all. Preston, Cindy, and who else I can't remember, stayed until well past last call, having a very merry drunken World Cup eve. Finally, we taxied home to the hotel, some late night grub, and finally, bed.

I was surprised how much energy I awoke with, midmorning, hangover be damned. Soon I was outside the lobby, mingling with more dart players from around the globe, everyone excited to get in some practice before the opening ceremonies that afternoon. Troy and team Canada were sporting their new coats and shirts. Due to his last minute addition, in unavoidable yet fitting tribute, Billy's uniform still sported the name of Simard Marcel. Moments later, Tammy Murschell appeared with a present for me, an official World Cup press pass.

After some quick text messages, trying to figure out which dart bars were not overrun with practicing players, Team Canada and I mini-vanned our way to another great pub called Breakers. Two rooms sporting eight boards were nearly filled--Team Australia and Japan were also there getting some games in. It wasn't long before I met the manager and staff, buckets of ice packed beer were served, and we took a great group photo of the three national teams--Australia, Japan, and Canada--sharing their common love of the sport.
To my thrill, I snuck in some practice legs with Dave, Chris and Cindy, relishing the chance to practice with such superior and sponsored players. I even managed to win a leg or two...out of twenty or thirty! But, who cares what your winning percentage is when the experience itself is unforgettable. By now, I had learned how to use the electronic scoreboards they have in Newfoundland. For me, it's just not the same as slate and chalk, but it certainly indicates the high level of darts they play in Newfoundland. When dart bars have electronic scoreboards, you know you're in an environment that takes its steel tip seriously.

Finally, the time arrived to pack up our practice darts, and return to the hotels to dress for the opening ceremony. While I waited in the lobby lounge for Team Canada, I visited with Louise, lady team member of Scotland, and recalled our meeting two years prior. Outside the hotel, I mingled with Team Jersey, an autonomous English region on the coast of France, given nation status and making its first official appearance in the WDF World Cup. Soon, the Canadians appeared, and we loaded into cars to head to the tournament venue, the PowerPlex.

It's something special to arrive with the host nation and its local St' John's heroes, Troy and Billy. In many ways, they were the center of attention, with more fans, friends, family and supporters than any other players. Photographers and newspaper and television journalists were on hand, waiting for interviews with them. I left them to their moment of fame, and snuck off to start taking my own pictures of the playing area, the stage, other teams, and the World Cup trophies themselves.

First, I slipped by the table of Team USA, greeting Larry Butler, Gordon Dixon, Robbie Phillips, Tom Sawyer, Cali West, Brenda Roush, and manager Steve Brown. After all, they were my national team and my friends. I said hi to Team Barbados and Team Iceland, reminiscing about the adventures I've had on their respective islands.

Despite busily rushing around in preparation, I quickly kibbitzed with Jacques Nieuwlaat and Richard Ashdown, mastercallers and head officials for the games. I met their wives, Kathy and Bianca, and sat with them, along with many other new friends and supporters, at the front row bleachers. We had a perfect view of the stage and team tables from thirty nations.
The opening ceremony of the nineteenth World Cup was about to begin.

Over and double







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