The Independent from London, Greater London, England • 32

MIT of fancy The Worid Darts Championship (well, one of the two) reaches its climax this weekend. To try to understand the game's appeal, BRIAN VINER spends the day with a beer-swilling crowd of Vikings. Oh, the glamour! Photographs by DAVID SANDISON is midnight in Frimley Green, Surrey. In fact, it might as well always be midnight in Frimley Green, at least during the Embassy World Darts Championship at the Lakeside Coun-try Club, where daylight, like trouble, is not encouraged. There are 10 licensed doormen to keep out trouble, and during the afternoon sessions who until last Sunday was the PDC world riiampion for as long as anyone can remember.

The BTX) and BBC, snap the PDC, are just jealous because Taylor, despite his defeat in the final by the Canadian John Part, remains the Michael Schumacher of darts. Whatever, both tournaments offer the same fkst prize -50)00 -but the Embassy, now in its 26th year and harder to qualify for, undoubtedly carries more prestige. And the fans fed the prestige as much as the players. Td always told my six children that before I die I want to go to Frimley Green," says Gwen Bradley; a 64-year-old great-grandmother from Not tmgham, who's nursing a vodka and bitter lemon. "And I had heart trouble last year so I think they thought they ought to send me before I snuff it They gave me the to disagree, which of course they dont Eventiiauy, they all lurch into the night leaving me to reflect on my inaugui visit to the world's biggest darts tournament Unlike just about everyone else at the elbow.

But I do know that there are, confusingly two world championships. One is the event that finished last weekend at the Circus Tavern in Purfleet Essex, organised' by the breakaway Professional Darts Cor-porauon. The other is the Embassy, which concludes on Sunday, and takes place under the proud auspices of the British Darts Organisation, There is plenty of needle between the PDC and the BDO. The PDC, sneer the BBC-favoured BDO, stands for Phil's Darts Club, Phil being Phil "The Power" Taylor, tickets on Christmas Day and I cried. If file best Christmas present Pve ever had." Gwen who has not missed a single dart since the 2003 tournament began, except when buying vodka and bitter lemons for her and her friend Pauline Topham has onry one regret; that she is not able to grace this long-awaited occasion with her best frock.

"We're staying over at the Monkey Puzzle in Farnborough, and we have to catch two buses to get here every day, so I have to dress up warm." In the lakeside auditorium, keeping warm is no problem. It is heaving with humanity at its sweatiest and most raucous. So remarkable is the spectacle, in fact, that not one but two feature films are being made here this week, around and between the matches. One stars Ralf Little from The Royle the other the comedian Johnny Vegas. Darts has hit the big time.

And I have hit or at least become pressed up against in a crush at the bar, a ferocious-looking character with four sovereign rings on one hand and a goatee on the first of several china. Her boyfriend is no looker, either. Darts, it has to be said, ooesiwtattipuktude, which may be why such a fuss is being made of Robert Wagner not the film star, but a similarly dishy former bodybuilder from Austria, this year making his debut in the Embassy. Still, for all the flesh, and all the sweat and all the cigarette smoke which must bring joy to the hearts of the sponsors Imperial Tobacco, but makes me wonder whether it is possible to contract and die from a passive-smoking-related disease within a single evening it is fun being at darts deserves to be called a sport, but it sure is cracking entertainment Between the matches, the venerable they doubtless do a good job of blocking the daylight, too. They are very large men indeed, and they take such manifest pride in keeping order that it's dear that by becoming bouncers at the lakeside they have, in the dartboard of life, scored bull's-eyes.

But by midnight their evening's work is almost done. Most of the punters have left, although outside the Lakeside a curious scene is unfolding, featuring eight drunken Dutchmen novelty hats ai a drunken Englishman with tattoos of Dracula on his arms and chest The Dutchmen are telling the man with the Dracula tattoos that they "theenk hje iss He is 34-year-old Ted Hankey, nicknamed the Count, a former Embassy world champion who tonight, despite the intimidating effect on his opponent of a new cape that opens out into bat wings, has surprisingly been eliminated. Since bis defeat, the Count, who lives notinTransyhuiiabutinTElfordhasbeen submerging bis sorrows in bottle after bottle of the eerib blue alcopop WKD. His mum and dad have been belong him to prop up the bar in the players' lounge. The Count's (lad is anxious to get him back to the hotel, but his mother disagrees vehemently.

"Leave him, he's with his fans," she shrieks. She too seems to have had a cou-ple over the eight "VaiVe got the 2004 world champion here," she tells the Dutchmen, with just a hint of menace, as if daring them.