And so it was, perhaps, not all that surprising that I would comedown to the lobby one morning and see a group of Westerners and think that they might actually be some fairly important persons. Business travelers tended to arrive solo, or in pairs. This was a group of about 10, and as there were hardly ever any tourists in this eastern part of the province, I asked a front desk clerk who they were.
“Darts players,” he said, “from England.”
Darts players from England? How random, I thought.
They stood near a large, potted plant in the center of the lobby. I walked over to them and introduced myself. One of them, a man in a black T-shirt, shook my hand and told me that they had all flown in for a tournament.
The audience watched as Taylor went to the line and threw his first three darts. Each dart went right to the triple 20. It was not just that they landed in this small space, but even the way it was done was impressive. His first dart landed to the left of the tiny space, and the second dart flew straight over to the right side of it. His third dart came in on a slightly higher trajectory, so that its fins could land on top of the darts on either side.
It represented an incredible level of skill, and making the performance even more interesting was how he played without any fuss, or hesitation. When he finished placing all three darts in the triple 20, he turned around and gave a sheepish grin as if he could not believe his luck.
The crowd clapped, but not too loudly and not for very long.
Taylor’s Chinese opponent went to the line, looking less confident. He glanced at his feet to make sure they were not crossing the line, and then made several false starts before finally throwing his darts. Out of three darts, none made it to the triple 20.
Taylor was scoring points, but he was losing the crowd. He must
have sensed it, because on the next round, he missed the triple
20 with all three darts, and by a margin that was too wide to have
been a mistake
