The Little Wins – Why Every Darts Tournament Doesn't Have to Be About Winning

 

Sometimes the best thing you take home from a darts tournament isn't a trophy, a good average or even a victory. Sometimes it's just one visit to the board.

I was playing in an Under-55 average darts tournament today, and something happened that got me thinking.

One of the players hit his first-ever 180 in a tournament.

Now, to some players, a 180 is almost routine. Some hit several in a single match. But at our level, particularly for somebody who has never managed one in competitive darts before, it's a big moment.

And you could see how much it meant to him.

He was absolutely delighted, and rightly so.

The interesting thing was that he actually lost the match.

But I suspect when he looks back on today's tournament, he won't be thinking too much about the defeat. He'll remember that first 180.

And why shouldn't he?

It got me thinking about something that perhaps we don't do enough of in darts.

Celebrate the little wins.

We Can't All Win the Tournament

The reality of competitive darts is that, unless you're fortunate enough to win the whole thing, you're eventually going to lose.

That's true whether you're playing in a local Under-55 competition or on the biggest stages in the world.

But does that mean the tournament has been a failure?

I don't think it does.

We spend an awful lot of time measuring ourselves against results. Did we win? Did we qualify from the group? What was our average? Did we play better than last week?

And those things matter, of course they do.

But perhaps there's another way of looking at it.

What if, before every tournament, we gave ourselves one or two smaller goals?

Not necessarily winning the tournament. Not even necessarily winning a match.

Just something achievable that would represent a little bit of progress.

Maybe it's hitting your first 180. Maybe it's getting through a match without becoming frustrated with yourself. Perhaps it's finally managing that checkout you've been struggling with.

There are plenty of possibilities.

And if you manage one of them, then surely you've taken something positive away from the day?

What If You Don't Achieve Your Goals?

This is where I think it gets a little more interesting.

Let's say you've gone to a tournament with a couple of goals in mind.

You don't achieve either of them.

You lose your matches, your average is disappointing, and you come away feeling that you've played terribly.

We've all been there.

So is there still a little win somewhere?

Perhaps you checked out with your first dart at a double in one leg.

Perhaps you played somebody considerably better than you and managed to take them all the way down to a deciding double.

Perhaps you produced one really good leg, even though the rest of the match was pretty awful.

Or maybe you recovered from a bad start and showed a bit of determination.

None of these things is going to get you a trophy.

But they might just be something worth remembering.

And if you can find one little thing you've done well, perhaps the journey home doesn't feel quite so disappointing.

Sometimes There Really Isn't a Positive

Now, I don't want this to turn into one of those motivational articles where we're told that every defeat is secretly a victory.

Because it isn't.

Sometimes you have an absolute mare.

You can't score, you can't finish, nothing feels right, and the more you try, the worse it gets.

You look back over the tournament, try to find something positive, and genuinely can't think of anything.

And you know what?

That's fine too.

There's no point inventing a positive just for the sake of it.

Accept that you played badly. Own it. Don't make excuses, and don't spend the next three days beating yourself up about it either.

Every darts player has those days.

Every single one.

Even the players you look up to, who seem to throw effortlessly and rarely miss a double, have tournaments where absolutely nothing goes right.

You might not notice it because you're too busy comparing your worst performances with their best ones.

But it happens.

And the wonderful thing about grassroots darts is that, more often than not, there's another tournament just around the corner.

Another chance to start again.

Give Yourself Something to Aim For

I think there's a lot to be said for setting small personal targets before a tournament.

Not huge ambitions that depend on who turns up or who you happen to draw.

Just little things you can work towards.

Something that makes you feel you're improving, even if the results haven't quite caught up yet.

And perhaps those targets should change as you improve.

For somebody relatively new to competitive darts, hitting a first 180 might be a massive milestone.

For somebody else, it might be recording their first 60 average, winning a group match or finally managing to beat a player they've lost to several times.

For a more experienced player, the target might be maintaining concentration, improving finishing or producing a more consistent performance throughout the day.

The important thing is that they're your goals.

Not somebody else's.

Because we're all at different stages of our darts journey, and progress doesn't look the same for everybody.

Something I'd Like to Bring to Q4QS

This is actually something I'm hoping to develop as part of QuestForQSchool in the new year.

I've got plans for a training and player-development section, and one of the things I'd like to introduce is the ability for players to set themselves personal tournament goals.

Nothing overcomplicated.

Just a way of deciding what you'd like to achieve, recording how you got on and hopefully seeing those little improvements add up over time.

Because while Q4QS already looks at rankings, results, averages and performances, I think there's another side to darts development that's just as important.

Recognising progress, however small it might be.

And sometimes the numbers alone don't tell the whole story.

One Visit Can Make Your Day

So I'll finish by going back to that player from today's tournament.

He didn't win his match.

He didn't win the tournament.

But he hit his first competitive 180, and he was absolutely delighted.

And I thought that was brilliant.

Because in years to come, he might not remember who knocked him out today, what his average was or even how many matches he played.

But I reckon he'll remember that 180.

And that, to me, is what a little win is all about.

Next time you play a tournament, give yourself something to aim for. And when you get home, ask yourself what you can take away from the day.

Hopefully there'll be something positive.

And if there isn't?

Put the darts away, forget about it and have another go next time.

There's always another tournament.

---

QuestForQSchool – Following the numbers, celebrating the players and recognising the little wins along the way.

Is There a Great Darts Player Hidden Inside Me?

 

Every so often, I throw a leg of darts that makes absolutely no sense.

Not because it's bad.

Because it's far better than the player I normally am.

I've hit 15-dart legs. I've had individual legs where I've averaged over 100. They certainly don't happen every week, and I don't want to pretend I'm regularly producing darts of that standard.

I'm not.

But they have happened.

And that has left me with a question I've been fascinated by for years.

If I can play darts that well occasionally, what is stopping me from getting closer to that level more often?

Or, to put it another way:

Is there a much better darts player hidden inside me?

The 10,000-Hour Question

I've always been fascinated by the argument popularised by books such as Matt Syed's Bounce: the idea that elite performance is built through thousands of hours of purposeful practice rather than simply being something you're born with.

The famous figure is 10,000 hours, although the original research is considerably more nuanced than simply doing something for that length of time.

The important part is deliberate practice.

There's an enormous difference between throwing darts for an hour and spending an hour deliberately working on specific weaknesses.

And that raises an interesting question in darts.

How much of the difference between an average pub player and an elite player is practice?

And how much is natural ability?

Surely Natural Talent Exists?

It's difficult to watch somebody such as Luke Littler throw darts and believe we're all starting with exactly the same raw materials.

The same could be said of Adrian Lewis at his best, or the apparently effortless action of Michael Smith.

They have obviously spent thousands upon thousands of hours playing darts.

But there appears to be something else there as well.

Call it talent, coordination, temperament, hand-eye coordination or simply an unusually high natural ceiling.

Whatever we call it, I find it difficult to believe that every person on Earth could practise for 10,000 hours and become Luke Littler.

I certainly don't expect to.

But that's not really the question I'm interested in.

I'm far more interested in finding out how good I could become.

Which One Is the Real Me?

I'm 52.

I've played a lot of darts over the years and I practise reasonably seriously for an amateur player. I enter tournaments, track statistics and probably think about my game considerably more than is healthy.

But my improvement has never followed a nice straight line.

Sometimes I play well.

Sometimes I wonder whether I've ever held a dart before.

And very occasionally everything clicks.

A 15-dart leg appears.

A leg with a 100-plus average appears.

Three darts suddenly seem to follow one another towards the treble rather than conducting independent experiments into different areas of the board.

Those exceptional legs are rare.

But they're fascinating to me because I threw them.

So which player represents my actual ability?

Is it the player represented by my average over hundreds of legs?

Almost certainly.

But what does that occasional brilliant leg represent?

Luck?

Variance?

Or a glimpse of a level that better practice could make slightly less unusual?

Maybe I'm Asking the Wrong Question

For years, I've thought about improvement in the obvious way:

How do I become a better darts player?

I'm starting to think there's another way of looking at it.

How do I make the difference between my best darts and my normal darts smaller?

That doesn't mean turning an occasional 15-darter into 15-dart legs every night.

That would be ridiculous.

But suppose the things that occasionally combine during one of those legs could be understood.

Better grouping.

Fewer darts in the 1 and 5.

More controlled finishing.

Better concentration.

More confidence.

Perhaps improvement isn't about discovering some magical new ability.

Perhaps it's about gradually removing the mistakes that prevent the ability I already possess from appearing more frequently.

Where Am I Actually Losing Darts?

My instinct has always been to blame scoring.

Those visits of 41 and 45 are incredibly frustrating because they often don't feel like terrible visits.

The darts aren't miles away.

But they're expensive.

Put two darts in the 1 instead of the 20 and you've effectively thrown away 38 points.

Do that repeatedly during a leg and suddenly the difference is enormous.

It doesn't necessarily require more 180s to become a considerably better player.

Sometimes it just requires fewer 26s.

But looking at my own statistics has made me wonder whether scoring is actually my biggest problem.

My first-nine average is often somewhere around 55–60 and rarely falls below 50.

Nobody on the PDC Tour needs to start worrying.

But for the standard I'm playing at, it suggests I'm at least getting myself through the first part of legs reasonably well.

What happens afterwards may be more important.

The Doubles Problem

This is an area where I think there may be considerable improvement available.

If I'm taking four darts, on average, to convert a finishing opportunity, I'm effectively operating at around 25%.

Get that closer to one in three and suddenly I'm winning legs earlier without improving my scoring at all.

That's what I find particularly interesting.

I've spent years thinking becoming a better darts player means scoring more heavily.

Maybe it doesn't.

Perhaps I don't need another 180.

Perhaps I need fewer wasted darts.

A 60 average achieved through better finishing wins exactly the same legs as a 60 average produced through heavier scoring.

And in match situations, better finishing may be considerably more valuable.

Why Do Young Players Seem to Improve So Quickly?

Age is another part of this experiment.

At 52, I'm obviously not approaching darts in the same circumstances as an emerging 18-year-old.

A young player may be playing several nights every week. They may have fewer family commitments and considerably more time available for practice and competition.

There may be physical advantages too. Motor learning, recovery, eyesight and reaction can all change with age.

But there's another factor.

Going from a 40 average to 50 is not necessarily the same challenge as going from 55 to 65.

Improvement becomes progressively harder.

The better you become, the more difficult each additional percentage point is to find.

So perhaps comparing improvement rates isn't particularly useful.

The more interesting question is what improvement is still realistically available to me.

Have I Actually Been Practising Properly?

This may be the uncomfortable part.

I practise.

But I'm not convinced I've always practised particularly well.

Throwing at treble 20 for a while, playing some 501 and then deciding I've completed a practice session isn't necessarily deliberate practice.

It's playing darts.

There's a difference.

So I'm going to try something different.

Rather than simply practising more, I want to practise with a purpose.

A session might include:

- 15 minutes concentrating purely on grouping and reducing darts into the 1 and 5.

- 15 minutes working through finishing combinations.

- 15 minutes of dedicated doubles practice.

- 15 minutes of competitive 501 or match simulation, with the statistics recorded.

And, crucially, I want to measure what happens.

Not after three days.

Over months.

An Experiment at 52

That's perhaps where this article changes from a philosophical question into something more interesting.

I want to find out.

I'm not trying to become a professional darts player.

I'm certainly not announcing a late assault on Luke Littler's world ranking.

I simply want to discover how much better a 52-year-old amateur darts player can become through genuinely structured practice.

I'll track things such as my overall average, first-nine average, checkout percentage, darts required at doubles and perhaps the frequency of particularly poor scoring visits.

Then I can see where the improvement actually comes from.

Maybe my scoring will rise.

Maybe my doubles will improve.

Maybe very little will happen at all.

That's part of the experiment.

So Can Anyone Become Elite?

I suspect the answer is no.

Natural ability matters.

Different people almost certainly have different ceilings, just as they do in virtually every other sport.

But I also suspect most amateur darts players have absolutely no idea where their ceiling is.

Because reaching it would require years of genuinely purposeful practice rather than simply playing darts.

Perhaps talent determines roughly where your ceiling might be.

Practice determines how close you ever get to it.

Most of us probably stop climbing long before we actually reach it.

The Player I've Occasionally Met

I don't regularly throw 15-dart legs.

That's precisely why they fascinate me.

Somewhere amongst thousands of completely ordinary legs of darts are a handful where everything has worked.

I've experienced what it feels like.

And I'm curious about whether I can make the gap between those rare moments and my normal game just a little smaller.

I'm not searching for a perfect throwing action.

I'm not looking for a secret aiming technique.

And I'm definitely not expecting to suddenly average 90.

I'm searching for consistency.

At 52, perhaps my ultimate ceiling isn't dramatically higher than my current level.

Or perhaps I've spent years practising inefficiently and there's considerably more improvement available than I realise.

There's only really one way to find out.

Practise properly.

Measure it.

And see what happens.

Maybe there isn't a great darts player hidden inside me.

But I'd quite like to meet the best one that's in there.

From Pub Player to Professional: The Road to Becoming a Professional Darts Player

 

Every darts fan has imagined it.

The winning double. The walk-on music. The packed crowd. The television cameras. The dream of earning a Tour Card and competing against the world's best.

But how realistic is it?

The truth is that every professional darts player started exactly where most of us are now – playing in local leagues, pubs, clubs and county events. Nobody begins as a professional. The journey starts with a single dart.

Step 1: Learn the Basics

Before thinking about rankings, averages or Q School, you need a solid foundation.

Focus on:

• A repeatable throw
• Consistent stance and grip
• Basic scoring
• Finishing doubles

Many new players obsess over 180s. In reality, doubles win matches.

A player averaging 60 but finishing well will often beat a player averaging 70 who cannot hit doubles.

Step 2: Play Regularly

Improvement comes from competition.

Practice is important, but match experience is where players truly develop.

Look for:

• Local pub leagues
• Open tournaments
• Youth events
• County competitions
• Darts Atlas events
• ADC events

The more different opponents you face, the quicker you learn.

Step 3: Track Your Progress

One mistake many players make is relying on memory.

Keep records of:

• Averages
• Win percentages
• Highest checkouts
• 180s
• Tournament results

Statistics reveal strengths and weaknesses that you may not notice during matches.

This is one reason grassroots ranking systems such as Q4QS are becoming increasingly valuable. They allow players to measure progress against others in their area and across the country.

Step 4: Build Consistency

The biggest difference between a decent player and a top player is consistency.

Most players can throw a brilliant leg.

Far fewer can do it for an entire tournament.

Professional players produce quality darts week after week, month after month, year after year.

Consistency is built through:

• Regular practice
• Match experience
• Confidence
• Mental resilience

Step 5: Raise Your Average

As a rough guide:

• 40-50 average: Beginner
• 50-60 average: Developing player
• 60-70 average: Strong local player
• 70-80 average: County standard
• 80-90 average: National level
• 90+ average: Professional standard

These figures are not exact, but they provide useful milestones.

Remember that averages alone do not tell the full story. Finishing and matchplay are equally important.

Step 6: Travel and Test Yourself

Many players become comfortable winning locally.

The next challenge is travelling.

Playing different venues and different regions exposes you to stronger fields and different playing conditions.

It also helps build experience under pressure.

The players who improve fastest are usually those who seek tougher competition rather than avoiding it.

Step 7: Develop the Right Mindset

Talent helps.

Mindset matters more.

Every successful player experiences:

• Bad form
• Heavy defeats
• Missed doubles
• Tournament exits

The difference is that they keep turning up.

Progress in darts is rarely a straight line.

Some weeks you feel unstoppable.

Other weeks you cannot hit a double.

Keep playing.

Keep learning.

Keep improving.

Step 8: Consider Q School

For many ambitious players, the ultimate target is Q School.

The Professional Darts Corporation (PDC) Q School offers players the opportunity to earn a Tour Card and compete professionally.

However, success at Q School usually follows years of development, competition and experience.

Most players who succeed have already built a strong foundation through local, county and national competition.

The Reality

Very few players will become full-time professionals.

But that should not stop anyone trying.

The journey itself is rewarding.

You make friends, visit new venues, experience memorable matches and continuously challenge yourself to improve.

And every professional darts player once stood exactly where you are now.

The road starts with one dart.

Where it ends is up to you.