There are interviews where you spend half an hour desperately trying to coax something interesting out of somebody. You ask about their preparation, their ambitions and what the future holds, and eventually receive seventeen different versions of “I’m just taking it one game at a time.”
And then there’s Richie Howson.
According to Wikipedia, Howson was born in Romford. Which, if true, makes ‘Romford Richie’ sound more like one of the Kray Twins’ mates than a darts player.
However, it turns out that’s absolute bollocks. Just to make sure, I asked the man himself, who said — and I quote:
“I come from nowhere near Romford and never lived in Romford. Although I did go shopping there yesterday.”
Anyway, now the emphatically NON-ROMFORD man has cleared that up, we can move on with a valuable lesson for us all…
DO NOT believe everything you read on Wikipedia. Any knob can edit it!
Richie however appears to have reached that glorious stage of life where the internal filter has been disconnected, thrown in a skip and replaced by the firm belief that if somebody asks a question, they’re getting the bloody answer, even if they want it or not.
Darts, marriage, children, West Ham, snooker, Q School, gardening and his eventual death all made it into the conversation.
Cheery stuff.
So, with absolutely no PR representative within a safe distance, Bang On Target sat down with The Owl himself. Well okay – it wasn’t a sit down as such. It was emailing a Word Doc to Richie and then waiting for a fortnight until he got his arse in gear and replied.
Thankfully, he did. And now we can crack on.
FIRST THINGS FIRST: WHO ACTUALLY IS RICHIE HOWSON?
Richie is originally from East London (ish) but now lives in Rainham, Essex. More importantly, he has been married to Lynn for 27 years, which in modern society is an achievement arguably deserving of its own trophy and certainly a bigger prize fund than some darts tournaments.
Children, however, were apparently never part of the grand Howson masterplan.
“Nah. Never wanted kids, they are great if they are someone else’s or don’t live in my house.”
Beautiful. Some people say children bring immeasurable joy, purpose and meaning to your life. Richie appears perfectly happy for them to bring all of that to somebody else’s abode,
Twenty-seven years married, no kids and presumably the remote control exactly where he left it. The man might have cracked the system. And probably a great deal richer for it.
SO WHAT DOES THE OWL DO WHEN HE ISN’T THROWING DARTS?
You might imagine a man who has spent years competing at a high level would use his downtime for rest, recovery and perhaps some sophisticated sports psychology.
Nope, not Richie:
“Hobbies? Well I enjoy Fishing, Drawing and just getting into a bit of Gardening as I’m getting older. When I’m not playing darts I’m usually doing one or more of the things above.”
There’s something wonderfully inevitable about a competitive darts player gradually discovering gardening. One minute you’re trying to pin double 16 under pressure, the next you’re standing at the kitchen window absolutely furious because a pigeon has crapped all over your begonias. Pesky little blighters.
Give it another five years and Richie will be telling us the council’s bin collection has gone downhill and nobody knows how to park properly anymore.
APPARENTLY HE WASN’T BAD WITH A SNOOKER CUE EITHER…
Before darts properly took over, Richie spent a few years working in a snooker hall after leaving school and became what he modestly describes as “half decent.”
For context, his version of half decent involved knocking in century breaks. Our version of half decent involves hitting the correct colour occasionally and not ripping the cloth.
After around three decades away, he picked the cue back up.
“When I left school I worked in a snooker hall for a few years and got half decent, making a few Centuries back then, stopped playing for probably thirty odd years and started again a couple of years back.
“I’m nowhere near the standard I was, made a couple of centuries in practice but well below where I would like to be in competition, I’m 60 now and it’s hard to get back what you once had, even practicing relentlessly.”
So, to summarise, he stopped playing for about 30 years, came back and has already made a couple of centuries in practice — and he’s disappointed.
Some of us haven’t made a century if you add together every break we’ve had since 1997.
… AND THERE’S AN ARTISTIC SIDE TO HIM
The darts and snooker are competitive outlets, fishing presumably gives him some peace and gardening provides somewhere to angrily point at weeds. But drawing is another genuine passion.
“Haven’t drawn much for a couple of years but intend to put that right as it’s a big passion of mine and love doing commissions for people.”
So if the darts ever pack up completely, there is a backup career ready and waiting.
Although after discovering he can play darts, knock in century breaks and draw, we’re starting to dislike him slightly. “I do the odd bit of running too” in Howson code probably means I recently beat Mo Farah in the London Marathon.
At least tell us you’re shit at plumbing, Richie. Give the rest of us something.
RIGHT. WE’VE PUT IT OFF LONG ENOUGH. WEST HAM UNITED
There are sensitive subjects in life. Religion. Politics. Money.
And asking an East Londoner about West Ham.
We did it anyway.
“Do we have to talk about West Ham, supported them for as long as I can remember. Nothing surprises me with them, very disappointing season last year but maybe we needed a kick up the arse to get things changing and get back on track.”
I don’t think it’s not going to be easy to come straight back up [to the Premier League], the Championship is a tough league but having Bowen making a brave decision to stay with us will hopefully help.”
By Bowen, he means Jarrod – narried to Danni Dyer, the daughter or cockney wide-boy Danny. I guess if all else fails for the Hammer star, Netflix will be dangling their cheque book. After all, they went after Katie Price for a documentary so clearly not too choosey.
But Richie’s line, “Nothing surprises me with them” might be the most accurate description of supporting West Ham ever committed to print.
Hope. Despair. Hope again. Something inexplicable happens. Everybody gets angry. A bloke in the pub says this is the worst side he’s seen since 1989. Repeat until death.
Still, Bowen staying has given Richie some optimism. Which seems dangerous.
THE WORLD SENIORS YEARS
Joking aside, the now defunct World Seniors Darts Championship gave Richie something genuinely special. It put him onto a major stage, created friendships and allowed a player who had spent years outside the biggest spotlight to experience something most dart players can only dream about.
Essentially, it was a massive darting reunion with stars of yesteryear. All fondly reminiscing, having a good laugh and assumingly, getting rat arsed and chucking some darts at the same time. Throw in a few Kebabs, Sky Sports and it sounds like heaven.
Its disappearance understandably hurt.
“Yeah I was obviously disappointed when The World Seniors Darts stopped, it gave me a new lease of life and allowed me to live the dream for a few years, met some fantastic people which I now called good friends so have been lucky to have had that experience and very grateful for the platform that WSD gave us.
“I was also given the Champion of Champions trophy which I won in 2024 and was finalist in that competition every year so will always take pride of place on my shelf.”
And rightly so. Whatever happened afterwards, nobody can take those memories away — or the Champion of Champions trophy.
Well, technically somebody could nick it. But that would make this interview take a very unexpected turn, so we’ll move swiftly on.
MODUS — AND THE OWL IS STILL FLYING
Fortunately, Richie hasn’t disappeared from our screens. He remains a familiar face on the MODUS Super Series and is refreshingly straightforward about how long he intends to keep turning up.
“At the moment I am playing regularly down at the Live Lounge, of which I am eternally grateful for the invitations and will carry on until they don’t want me, or I can’t throw anymore.”
That’s retirement planning, Richie Howson style. No farewell tour. No twelve-month documentary. No emotional montage accompanied by Coldplay.
Just keep throwing until MODUS stop ringing or his arm falls off. We can respect that.
COULD PDC Q SCHOOL TEMPT HIM BACK?
This is where things get interesting.
Richie has considered returning to Q School, although not necessarily because he has visions of grabbing a Tour Card and spending the next year travelling around Europe chasing Luke Littler.
The attraction is the Challenge Tour and the brutally high standard it offers.
“I’ve toyed with the idea of returning to Q School, not to try and get my tour card but so I can play on the Challenge tour as that provides an extremely high standard of darts and something you can really gauge where you are at, but not sure if I will pursue that yet as it all cost money.
“And at my age I don’t want to work too hard and am quite happy just earning enough to pay the bill and allow me to do the things I love before I finally peg it.”
There it is. Most players finish that answer with “we’ll see what the future brings.”
Richie finishes his by discussing the financial requirements of enjoying himself before death.
Somewhere, a motivational speaker has just burst into tears.
But beneath the wonderfully bleak delivery is actually a pretty sensible philosophy. Pay the bills, enjoy life, play darts, go fishing, draw a few pictures, pot a few balls and grow something in the garden before the Grim Reaper eventually sticks his head around the door.
Preferably not during a MODUS week.
BUT THERE IS ONE SLIGHT PROBLEM…
If Richie does decide to have another serious crack, apparently there is a highly sophisticated performance issue currently holding him back.
He can’t be arsed practising enough.
“I’m sort of happy with the standard I’m playing at the moment, but I’ve been a bit lazy lately and not put the practice in so would need to up my game if I want to give everything another go.”
At last. Something relatable. No sports-science jargon. No carefully managed workload. No “protecting peak performance windows.”
He’s been a bit lazy.
That might be the most honest assessment of sporting form we’ve ever received.
SO WHAT DOES THE FUTURE HOLD?
At 60, Richie knows he isn’t going to spend the next twenty years mapping out a relentless assault on professional darts. But neither does he sound remotely ready to chuck the darts in a cupboard and spend every afternoon arguing with squirrels in the garden.
For now, the plan is wonderfully uncomplicated.
“We’ll see how things go over the next year or two as to where I go and what I’ll do as I’m getting on now.”
Getting on? Maybe. Finished? Absolutely not.
And if the competitive itch becomes strong enough, you wouldn’t bet against The Owl deciding he fancies one more proper crack at it.
OH … WHAT’S “THE OWL” MONIKER ALL ABOUT ANYWAY?
We were expecting some elaborate story here. Perhaps Richie was wise beyond his years. Maybe he practised late into the night. Possibly there was some deep symbolic meaning stretching back decades.
No. Of course there bloody wasn’t.
“A guy I played County with gave me my nickname as I can turn my head 360 degrees.”
Right. We have several follow-up questions. We have also decided we don’t want the answers. Physics aside, I know you are one hell of a wind-up merchant!
If Richie Howson genuinely possesses the ability to rotate his head through 360 degrees, forget Q School — somebody needs to get the Vatican involved.
But when all is said and done, Richie Howson is exactly the sort of character darts needs.
A guy who would be just as comfortable selling fruit on an East London market as he would be banging in big averages on the Ally Pally stage.
He’s competitive without pretending darts is the only thing on Earth that matters. He’s proud of what he achieved with the World Seniors, grateful for what MODUS continues to offer him and realistic enough to know that chasing darts around the country costs money he’d quite reasonably also like to spend enjoying his life.
And at 60, he can still throw a dart, knock in a century, draw you a picture, catch a fish, tend the garden and apparently rotate his head like a possessed barn owl from some kind of Exorcist film entitled: The Return of The Raptor.
Meanwhile, the rest of us pulled something putting our socks on this morning.
The Owl isn’t done just yet. Although judging by his own answers, when he eventually is, he’ll be the first person to tell us. Probably immediately before pegging it.
