It’s the deciding leg of a doubles match, tension thicker than the foam on a badly poured pint. I’ve got double whatever (let’s be honest, by this point, I’m just aiming at a number and praying). I throw, bounce out and not just any bounce out. Oh no. My dart, in a dramatic act of betrayal, decides to yeet itself down the back of the radiator like it’s trying to escape the game entirely. Now, since it’s doubles, three other chuckleheads get to throw before me again. Do I fish it out immediately? Nah. I leave it there, assuming (correctly) that the game will be over before my next turn. Spoiler, we lost.
So, like any reasonable person, I go to retrieve my rogue dart. I reach down the back of the radiator, gentle, careful and suddenly, the entire radiator detaches from the wall and crashes to the floor at the feet of the guy who just hit the winning double. Silence. Then, from the opposition: “Bit of a sore loser, eh? Trashing our pub just ‘cause you lost?”
Excuse me? Umbridge taken. My teammates, bless them, immediately puff up behind me like a flock of angry pigeons. There’s some strong posturing, a few choice words exchanged and just as things are about to escalate to “who can glare the hardest,” the pub landlord materializes out of nowhere, baseball bat in hand and drops the most iconic line of the night: “If you lot can’t play nicely, Get the f*** out of my pub.” Cue instant deflation. We all burst out laughing, because what else are you gonna do? Had the usual post-match drinks like nothing happened.
Fast-forward a month. We play them again in a Cup game. And what do I see? A giant, mock road sign with a crossed-out dart, stuck right on the radiator, just for me.
How to play darts without starting a pub brawl
There’s an unspoken understanding among dart players, one that turns a simple pub game into something deeper. It’s not just about throwing sharp objects at a board, it’s about respect, focus and the quiet rituals that make the game fair and meaningful.
When a player steps up to the oche, the room should fall still. That moment of concentration is sacred. Even the smallest noise, a cough, a shifting foot, the clink of a glass, can break a player’s rhythm. It’s why professionals take it so seriously and why even in local leagues, silence is the first rule of respect.
Movement matters too. Experienced players don’t fidget or fuss with their darts between throws. They stand firm, avoiding unnecessary noise or distraction. They know which floorboards creak, which boards groan and how to move without breaking their opponent’s focus.
Space is just as important. There’s an invisible boundary around the throwing line, one that seasoned players instinctively honor. Whether a player leans forward or lifts a back leg, they deserve room to throw without feeling crowded. And when it’s time to retrieve darts, there’s an art to it: not too fast, not too slow, just enough to keep the game flowing smoothly.
The game begins and ends with a simple gesture, a handshake, a fist bump or at the very least, a nod. It’s a sign of respect, a way of saying, “No matter what happened, we played fair.” Skip it and you’ve missed the point of the game entirely.
Even small things, like where you stand when waiting your turn, matter. Most players return from the board along the same path, keeping out of their opponent’s way. It’s not superstition, it’s courtesy.
Arguments happen, but etiquette dictates they wait. Question a call mid-throw and you’ve crossed a line. The marker’s decision stands until the leg is over—interrupting is like talking during a tennis serve.
And then there’s the unwritten rule of admiration. When an opponent does something brilliant, a 170 checkout, a nine-darter, you acknowledge it. A nod, a clap, a “Well thrown.” It costs nothing but means everything.
These are the rules that don’t get written down but get passed on anyway. They’re what separate those who just throw darts from those who truly understand the game. Because in the end, darts isn’t just about winning. It’s about how you play and how you treat the people you play with.
Final Thought, Mind Your Manners (And the Radiators)
At the end of the day, darts etiquette isn’t just about being polite, it’s about survival. One minute you’re going for double top, the next you’re accidentally redecorating the pub with a rogue radiator. The line between “respected opponent” and “public enemy number one” is thinner than the wire on a bullseye.
So remember, keep quiet when others throw, don’t crowd the oche and for the love of tungsten, check the structural integrity of nearby fixtures before retrieving bounce-outs. Because nothing kills the post-match vibe faster than a landlord with a baseball bat and a grudge. Play fair, laugh often and may your darts stay on the board, not behind a radiator.
Darts fever, because why not practice more, aim higher and laugh louder!
Bobby George, The king of Bling: “Darts etiquette is simple: respect the oche, don’t throw when your opponent’s throwing and never, ever touch another man’s darts. Oh, and if you win, buy the loser a drink. It’s the gentleman’s way.”
