The Prince of Portsmouth, Derek Coulson claimed the MODUS Series 14 Champions Week title on a dramatic night down at the Live Lounge.
It was perhaps poetically fitting that the man who majestically strolled through his Super Series week like he owned the place eventually collected the biggest pot under the rainbow. Not bad for someone who made winning look about as stressful as choosing a Tesco meal deal.
Earlier in this campaign, the Welshman – who has opted for the initials DC as his well-thought (and totally unarsed) moniker, seemingly blissfully unaware they’re already associated with a rather successful comic book empire and a team of blokes who dress up as bats and clowns – won his week in outrageous style without losing a single match. Yep, you read that correctly. Undefeated. The rest of the field may as well have been throwing frozen sausages.
All of the previous dozen weekly champions descended upon Portsmouth, including Jack Tweddell, who stepped in for the man who appears to use hatchbacks as warm-up weights, Boris Krcmar.
Every single one arrived dreaming of lifting the title and pocketing a tidy £25,000. That’s enough to buy absolutely everything on a Ryanair food trolley… and still have enough left over for two bottles of water, provided they’re on special offer.
Sadly, dreams have a habit of being brutally run over by reality. Only six players could progress to Finals Night. And for once, Neil Duff wasn’t among them. The darting apocalypse had clearly arrived. Of course, he wasn’t suffering alone, as five other hopefuls also packed their bags at the group stage and headed for the nearest taxi rank with all the enthusiasm of someone leaving a root canal appointment.
Come Saturday, things became wonderfully ridiculous in the opening round-robin group. Coulson, Ashley Coleman and Jack Aldridge somehow all finished level after each winning one match 4-3 and losing the other by exactly the same scoreline. Statistically bizarre. About as likely as Phil Taylor taking up crochet or Jarred Cole getting the right amount of sugars in everyone’s half-time brew.
So rather than drawing straws, flipping coins or seeing who could sprint around the Live Lounge the fastest—which would almost certainly have ended with at least two oxygen masks and someone looking for a defibrillator—MODUS settled things with a nine-dart challenge. Jack Aldridge, unfortunately, discovered that fate had all the compassion of a traffic warden. His campaign ended there.
Advancing from that chaotic little soap opera were The Prince of Darkness, Ashley Coleman, and the ice-cool Welshman, who by now was treating winning matches as another item on his daily to-do list.
The second trio required far less mathematical detective work. Sadly for Archie Self, despite producing a magnificent tournament overall, the talented youngster came unstuck against both Scott Robertson and Henry Coates.
Just four remained.
First into the final was Dracula’s slightly less photogenic brother, Ashley Coleman, who comfortably dispatched Scott Robertson 4-1. The tartan slinger will be kicking himself—not for his week’s work, which was excellent—but for his doubles. They deserted him quicker than rats leaving the Titanic. Perhaps next time he’ll remember to bring garlic, a crucifix and expose Ashley to direct sunlight. Worth a go.
Coulson—who by this point had apparently decided that losing simply wasn’t part of his weekend itinerary—then overcame the impressive Henry Coates 4-2. There was precious little between the pair, except Derek happened to be significantly more interested in hitting doubles than his opponent. A fairly useful habit in darts, it turns out.
Into the grand finale we went, and sadly for it was Coleman’s turn for those pesky doubles to once again packed their bags and disappeared without leaving a forwarding address. Against almost anyone else, you might survive that. Against Derek Coulson in Portsmouth? You’d have had more chance trying to stop the tide with a polite request.
Smash through the door he did, and once inside he slammed it firmly behind him.
Del Boy produced an immaculate 50% checkout success rate and cruised to a convincing 4-1 victory, barely breaking sweat in the process. By the end of it, the trophy almost looked relieved it finally knew where it was going.
Congratulations to Derek Coulson, who now finds himself £25,000 richer, immortalised on the MODUS Super Series honours board and, if rumours are to be believed, has already commissioned Jarred Cole to erect him a modest little bronze statue outside the Live Lounge.
It’ll probably only be thirty feet tall, breathe fire every half hour and point dramatically towards the oche. Anything smaller would frankly be underselling the achievement.
