Dedicated darts fans across the world will already be massively familiar with the names Mitchell Lawrie and Owen Bryceland – two of the most talented young tungsten throwers on the planet.
Whilst Scotland’s football team have already returned home from America, typically before the postcards even got there, these are two Scots who usually have plenty of time to write home when they’re away. That’s generally because they’re still there right until the very end of tournaments.
So, a formal introduction to my next couple of guests. Enter tartan whipper-snappers Mitchell Lawrie and Owen Bryceland – a pair of fledgling flingers who make blokes in their mid-50s down the local pub wonder how the hell they make it look so easy. Trust me, I’m one of those blokes.
There are nicknames in darts that sound intimidating. The Power. Voltage. The Iceman.
Then there are Wee Sox and The Bandit. Which, if we’re being brutally honest, sound less like Scotland’s next great darting partnership and more like two tiny-footed outlaws roaming the Highlands on Shetland ponies, nicking Irn-Bru, Freddos and the occasional Tunnock’s Teacake from unsuspecting village shops before disappearing into the mist.
Before we got into the serious stuff, there was one mystery I simply had to solve. Where on earth did those nicknames come from?
Mitchell’s is Wee Sox, which, when roughly translated from Scottish into English, essentially means small cotton foot clothing. Then there’s Owen, who goes by The Bandit. Given he’s only 12 years old, I was reasonably confident the nickname wasn’t earned after a daring armed robbery of a Glasgow bank or a life on the run from Police Scotland.
Thankfully – and perhaps rather predictably given their tender ages – it wasn’t. What I also noticed is that Lawrie & Bryceland sounds remarkably like a slightly questionable solicitors firm tucked away in a side street somewhere in Kilmarnock.
“Lawrie & Bryceland. Specialists in wills, conveyancing and accidental tungsten-related injuries.”
Jokes aside, I decided to find out why they came up with these monikers. And as it’s a joint interview and therefore two completely different sets of answers, I decided to make it clear with oche’s answer to Ant & Dec with initialising before each response. I think you’ll decipher the two-letter code I cleverly came up with. Hardly need ENIGMA to crack this one:
OB: “My parents just thought of it a few years ago and we thought it suited me – so we went with it.”
ML: “It came from my grampa Dougie when I was little, and it’s always stuck, and full family call me it now.”
Yep I was right. Neither answer involved robbing a stagecoach or losing a sock in a tumble dryer, but we’ll move on.
So, as two clearly gifted born-naturals, how did darts first enter your lives? Who got you involved?
OB: “I’ve loved darts from a very young age and was glued to the telly whenever it was on.
“My parents got me a soft-tip board when I was around 18 months old, and I would chuck darts at it. Then, six months later, I started using real darts under supervision, flinging them onto a board. As I got older, I gradually moved further away from the board.
“That continued for years, and my parents told me I would play all the time. I then asked if I could try competitions, so they took me along, not expecting much. But by about my third one, when I was eight years old, I got to a final.
“Shortly after that, I played my first SDA youth competition and won it. A year later, I won the Scottish Open Youth, and it has continued on like that to where I am now.”
Impressive yet given Owen’s remarkable talent, totally unsurprising. Meanwhile Mitchell’s route into darts sounds slightly more conventional. Only slightly.
ML: “From 2-years old when the Scottish Open came to my hometown in Renfrew my Grampa Dougie always took over to watch it and it all started from there.”
So essentially we’ve got one youngster throwing darts before most toddlers have mastered eating with a spoon, and another who caught the bug because his grandad kept taking him to the Scottish Open. Not bad foundations.
Who were your heroes growing up… and who are they now? No hesitation from either camp.
OB: “At 8-years old, I got to play with Michael van Gerwen who is my hero. But I love Ando [Gary Anderson] as well.”
ML: “Gary Anderson.” said Wee Sox instantly without almost letting me finish the question.
One Dutch darting icon. One Scottish legend. Fair choices.
Where do you honestly see yourselves in ten years boys? This is usually where people give the sensible, media-trained answer. Not here.
OB: “I want to hopefully turn pro in years to come but still got a long way to go. But I’m doing really well playing in the advanced tour and JPL.”
Grounded. Sensible. Exactly the kind of answer parents love hearing. Mitchell, meanwhile, wasn’t interested in half measures.
ML: “Hopefully World Champion.”
No messing about. If only Scotland had been that direct against Morocco at the FIFA World Cup, they’d probably still be in the USA instead of getting leathered in Lanzarote. But as for the response, I admire that. Why aim for “hopefully somewhere around the world’s top 64” when you can simply skip straight to lifting the Sid Waddell Trophy?
This one is for you Mitchell. Do the Luke Littler comparisons get annoying?
ML: “I’ve always said many of times I just want my own identity. Luke has been great for darts, but I will always be Mitchell Lawrie.”
And that’s exactly how it should be. The sport doesn’t need another Luke Littler – the one we have is doing pretty darn fine as it is. But it does need the first Mitchell Lawrie. And of course, a first Owen Bryceland.
Even professional darts tends to go hand and hand with a pint. And let’s not fool ourselves into thinking this lot are tee-teetotaller Monks? After all, some players practically regard lager as a sixth practice dart. Not Lawrie who once of age, has no intention in the old amber nectar:
MB: “Definitely not when playing darts.”
One suspects afterward then celebrating what will undoubtably be a haul of trophies and silver cups to drink champagne out of.
Of course, the PDC Development Tour is the Holy Grail for youngsters. Lawrie turns sixteen in November and will be scaring fellow kids on there in 2027. For Owen, not yet a teenager, his ambitions over the next few years are simple:
OB: “Hopefully I will stay doing the advanced tour and keep playing for Scotland in the JDC and SDA”
One thing that stands out speaking to youngsters these days is the sheer respect they have for each other. Nobody is desperate to claim they’re miles ahead of everyone else. So asked who else currently under 16 will go to the very top, both were coy but probably could name a lot of their mates on tour:
OB: “Too many to mention.”
MB: “There are so many talented young players within the sport now coming through especially the ones I’ve played against in the Advanced Tour, so I would say any of them really.”
Given the standard currently coming through junior darts, that’s probably the safest answer imaginable.
Before I realised, it was time for my final question. And I thought I’d make it a topical yet sarcastic one which screamed rhetorical. It was what’s Scotland better at … Darts or Football? Surely as a cocky Englishman soon about to see his team probably get knocked out on penalties, there’d be differing opinions. Surely. Nope.
OB: “Scotland defo better at darts than football but it’s been great following Scotland getting to the World Cup.”
ML: “Definitely.”
Well. That settled that quicker than a Scottish Premier League season by Christmas.
I have to admit, I really enjoyed that interview. There’s something incredibly refreshing about speaking to Mitchell and Owen. No inflated egos. No rehearsed media answers. Just two youngsters who absolutely love throwing darts and happen to be exceptionally good at it.
One is The Bandit. The other is Wee Sox. Together, they may well form the backbone of Scottish darts for years to come. And if they continue collecting trophies at the current rate, I’d strongly recommend both families start reinforcing the living room floor.
Have I just spoken to two future PDC World Champions? I very much suspect I have.
