Polish prodigy, Sebastian Bialecki ran riot in Milton Keynes over the weekend, gobbling up three Development Tour titles and almost another right at the end. Like a man arriving at an all-you-can-eat buffet and deciding basic portion control was merely a polite suggestion.
The Incredible Bolt may seem like a superhero – and in the past few days, the 22-year old Pole performed like one. No, he didn’t turn green, severely bulk-up in moments and rip his shirt before destroying Arena MK. But what he did do is terrify every single youngster in the field with a devastating display of ripping up things on the oche.
Bialecki entered the latest Dev Tour gathering off the back of victory in the latest outing. And with the kind of domination you’d expect from Beau Greaves on the PDC Women’s Series, began collecting titles like they were supermarket tokens. Or those stamps your nan used to obsessively save before spending eighteen months deciding what toaster to exchange them for.
Given that Sebastian had already been hanging around Buckinghamshire for almost a week due on Players Championship duty, the staff at the nearby ASDA at this stage knew him by name. Or at least recognised him as Mr Bean’s somewhat reserved Eastern European son. I have no idea how popular Rowan Atkinson’s character in Poland is so that joke may be lost on many. But anyway, I’m having it.
Early Friday afternoon, and the Lodz man was already back in the winners’ circle, smashing past Czechia’s David Fidler with ease to claim the weekend opener. Then after a spot of lunch, the youngster was at it again, this time with another mammoth 5-1 victory in the final, this time over the Cam Crabtree who is hoping to finish growing his moustache by the end of the season. Tom Selleck the Croydon lad ain’t – but can chuck far better than the Magnum, P.I. star ever could.
When Bialecki entered the venue on Saturday afternoon, his presence was probably greeted with the kind of pantomime booing you’d expect to hear when Captain Hook shows up on stage to comically annoy Peter Pan. And before long, that jeering was justified as he stretched his amazing winning-match streak to a staggering 35, this time Germany’s Leon Weber being the victim in the final. By this stage, opponents were approaching the board with all the confidence of a turkey meeting Bernard Matthews.
The previous unbeaten Development Tour record run was held by Wessel Nijman who himself, is a bit of a winning beast these days. However, the Dutchman’s 28 was becoming dwarfed by the miniature Pole who had already surpassed that tally – sat at half-time on Saturday boasting 35 without loss.
As impressive a feat as it was, logically had to come to an end sometime. And so it proved. In his fourth match after the break, Angelo Balsamo did what many were starting to believe was the impossible and break the streak. Off went Sebastian back to his hotel missing the balloons and party popping festivities which was figuratively happening in the venue. A compliment to his success. There may not have been an actual brass band playing Kool & The Gang’s hit, Celebration but emotionally, many of the field were already halfway through the chorus.
For Balsamo, he was probably feeling cursed by the Pole, exiting in his next game after aiming worse than a blind hedgehog competing at Augusta National. Dumped out by Tyler Thorpe with an average figure that if converted to inches, would be around the same height as Bialecki. Such was the bizarre nature of events, Angelo’s moment in the sun lasted about as long as a British heatwave.
With the dangerous East European out of the way, everyone else suddenly fancied their chances considerably more. Players who had spent the previous 24 hours looking as cheerful as people queueing at the dentist suddenly rediscovered the joys of life. And it was Cam Crabtree who eventually prevailed, pipping his English compatriot Nathan Potter in the final.
But Bialecki wasn’t done yet. He clearly spent a number of hours in his hotel room seeking retribution. In fact, such is his laid back and placid demeanour, it’s more likely that the Pole probably grabbed a bite to eat and just chilled for the evening. I like to think he watched Mr Bean with subtitles but that doesn’t strike me as his TV viewing weapon of choice. My money says he spent the evening quietly wondering why British hotels think one tiny sachet of coffee and a suspicious biscuit constitute hospitality. Better than a Travel Inn my friend.
The Sunday session usually comes as a relief to most players. Especially for those with tour cards who had been in Milton Keynes almost a week eagerly waiting home time like a bored child sat in a school classroom waiting for the bell. Or like kids forced to accompany their parents on the weekly big shop to Tesco, desperately hoping the experience comes to an end before old age claims them.
Not Sebastian though. He is the kind of student who stays behind after hours studying in the library. The sort of person teachers adores, and the rest of the class privately consider deeply irritating. And why not? It seems to be working as he almost picked up yet another title.
But in the end, it was Adam Gawlas who is to speed on the oche what a sloth would be in an Olympics 100m final. If the entire field of competitors were told they had to wait until the final was over before they could be dismissed, Adam would be the last player you’d wish to be involved in it. Some scientists believe tectonic plates have shifted quicker.
Despite the fact I’m not joking, I have all the time in the world for the charismatic Czech youngster. A player who amusingly sticks his carrier bag of chilled goods out of his hotel room window when there is no fridge on offer. Strong as an ox, gentle as a puppy wrapped in cotton wool. Yes, he’s slow, but he is also extremely good when he chooses to be. There is something wonderfully old-school about this young man treating the outside British weather as one giant freezer.
Anyway, I digress. Gawlas strolls around with the kind of laid-back manner from a heavily sedated cat about to have their tenth nap of the day. In the end, Adam defeated Bialecki in the final 5-3 and probably letting out a few words of joy mixed with expletives using his mother tongue that Sebastian may well have expressed in a neighbouring language already on three occasions over the week. The walls of the hotel probably learned several new phrases in both Czech and Polish.
In summary: It’s like the joke about an Englishman, a Pole and a Czech who walked into a sports centre. You know the one.
