No.2: Eric Bristow
Once in a lifetime, a sportsman arrives on the scene who is so radically different from the established order that the whole world is forced to sit up a take notice. Pele. Zatopek. Cryuff. Ali. Hulk Hogan. Eric Bristow.
"When Alexander of Macedonia was 33, he cried salt tears because there were no more worlds to conquer. Bristow's only 27." One man had the world at his feet.
Eric "The Crafty Cockney" Bristow was that man. The world of darts was rocking drunkenly on its heels in a shirt made out of a sail and XXXXL trousers. Eric was thin. To start with. And when at the ockey, he only saw one dart board, insead of having to cover one eye and aim for the middle one.
While the sport was dominated by the likes of John Lowe (whose brother was also world famous in the role of Captain Mainwaring, fact fans) and Jockie Wilson (whose Top of the Pops appearance was legend), Bristow came along and wiped the floor with them and his cocky wink to the audience was the stuff of legend. Nothing could stop Bristow except Bristow himself. And the fact that he suddenly couldn't hit the board if it was twenty feet across.
Bristow reign supreme, but soon his time was up, and after a rash of skinny streaks of piss winning the coveted world crowns, the sport has quite righty returned to the domain of the fat bastard whose aim improves with alcohol intake. Only when darts is properly recognised as an Olympic sport will Bristow's legacy be finally fulfilled.
In the words of the great Sid Waddell, darts commentator extraordinaire: "There's only one word for that - MAGIC DARTS!"
First it was Nicotinell, now this! The Boots Joint Patch. Feel the need, just stick one on your arm, and on the 3-for-2 offer as well. What will they think of next? And more to the point, does Mr Blunkett know?
Joe Stalin's giant bulletproof man-eating crabs are coming to eat our spicy brains!
I, for one, welcome our totalitarian crustacean overlords. From Neil Gaiman.