The PDC Q-School system has often come under scrutiny for being an unfair gateway onto the Pro Tour circuit. Is it a good way of generating revenue for the organisation? Yes, absolutely. Is it fair? Perhaps not.

Like any fair and unbiased writer – albeit one with the subtlety of a pub drunk trying to reverse park a combine harvester – I shall examine both sides of the argument (a little). And hopefully raise a few smirks along the way.

PROS

As mentioned, it makes a hell of a lot of money for the PDC. It costs bricklayer Dave from Huddersfield around £500 to have a crack. Sometimes it’s bought for him as a Christmas present by a loving wife or optimistic mate who has watched him successfully hit the board on a Thursday night doubles down the Dog & Ferret without managing to blind anyone.

To be fair, many entrants are genuinely talented arrow-smiths capable of averaging big numbers and fancying their chances in this particular tungsten jungle. Thankfully, the two-stage system now exists to separate these hopeful professionals from those liable to launch a 24-gram missile into someone’s packet of Scampi Fries.

And honestly, I don’t really have many more arguments in favour than that. I’m sure those who eventually secure those golden tickets would strongly disagree, although lottery winners also tend to think scratch-cards are an excellent investment strategy. Muppets.

CONS

Once you reach the final stage – where those high up the previous Challenge and Development Tours mingle with recently relegated tour card holders – the standard suddenly jumps higher than a cat being surprised with a megaphone.

If our mate – and shining example – Huddersfield Dave somehow sneaks through the opening phase, this is where reality generally arrives with all the subtlety of a Hippo sneaking into Harrods.

However, even among Stage Two competitors, there are players who remain nowhere near good enough to challenge the elite. Yet all it takes is one extraordinary day, a favourable draw and luck comparable to finding a winning lottery ticket in an old jacket pocket while searching for a receipt from B&Q.

Bang. They’re on the Pro Tour. That’s really the argument in a nutshell. Throw like you’re possessed by the ghost of Phil Taylor, enjoy a draw kinder than your Nan after three sherries and suddenly you’re a professional darts player. However improbable, that’s the reality.

WHAT WOULD I DO?

First things first, I’m not saying scrap Q-School. Even if the PDC considered that option, they’d lose enough money to make the DRA nervous at the thought of every professional player suddenly behaving like Buddhist monks on a vow of silence and spending two years without telling their opponent to stop clicking their darts together.

No, I’d simply make it one stage and limit the numbers.

At present, when January arrives in Milton Keynes or Kalkar, the turnout resembles an FA Cup Final crossed with a Comic-Con convention for middle-aged men who own dart wallets. There are enough players milling around to invade China and most possess roughly the same chance of gaining a tour card as they do of being selected by NASA for the next mission to Mars.

Limit the entries.

Continue to automatically accept those who performed admirably the previous year on the Challenge Tour, Development Tour and those unfortunate souls recently relegated. Throw in the best from the other circuit and ancillary circuits. Players who have actually demonstrated over a sustained period that they know one end of a dart from the other and aren’t merely the proud recipients of a £500 Christmas gift from an overly supportive Aunt.

For everyone else convinced they’re Luke Littler in disguise despite averaging 67 every Friday night in the Working Men’s Club, make them earn the right to attend Q-School via another route. Reward success on the ADC, WDF, MODUS Super Series or even the VAULT. Anything which proves they’re less likely to fire a dart in someone’s eye rather than win a title.

HERE’S MY OTHER IDEA

Earlier this year, 29 tour cards were handed out. Four daily finalists automatically qualified before the rest came through the Order of Merit. Fair enough.

But why do only the top two on the Challenge Tour and Development Tour receive automatic cards? Because handing out more would mean fewer places available at Q-School and therefore slightly fewer wallets being emptied in January. Tough.

If you’ve spent an entire season driving up and down the country, eating service station sausage rolls with the consistency of damp loft insulation and sleeping in hotels where the carpets look as though they witnessed the fall of the Roman Empire, then you deserve something tangible for your efforts.

Give more cards to the Challenge and Development Tours. I haven’t got an exact figure in mind, but if thirty places are available, at least half should be earned through sustained excellence over an entire season rather than four days where Lady Luck decides to smile on someone like she’s just met George Clooney in Asda.

You don’t invite non-league Workington Town to compete for a place in the Premier League alongside Championship play-off teams. That would be bloody ridiculous. Entertaining perhaps, but fair? Not remotely.

So here’s my proposal. And for simplicity reasons, lets round it up to thirty cards of offer:

• Top six from the Challenge Tour.
• Top four from the Development Tour.
• Four places for winners of the various ancillary tours such as the ADA and CDC.
• Then sixteen places from Q-School itself – eight in the UK and eight in Europe.

And scrap the automatic daily winners. Reward consistency.

You limit the field to 128 players – just like a Pro Tour event – and hold four tournaments over four days. Once all the singing, dancing and inevitable accusations of marker bias are over, the top eight on the Order of Merit get their cards.

Simple.

That way nobody can fluke a magical afternoon with a draw softer than baby shampoo and suddenly find themselves rubbing shoulders with Luke Humphries and Luke Littler.

The best eight over four days get rewarded. Novel concept, I know.

Will this ever happen? Probably not. But perhaps it should.

And one final thing.

If you do finally obtain your precious tour card and then spend the next two years withdrawing from events with the frequency of a teenager avoiding washing-up, then it should be taken away from you.

And before anyone starts foaming at the mouth, I’m talking about newly qualified players. Established stars have earned the right to pick and choose. They’ve accumulated the ranking money and, more importantly, can actually afford to.

I have spoken.

Now then, what’s your view?