We need to have a serious conversation about the Professional Darts Corporation (PDC) and its creeping descent into a variety show. The Alexandra Palace has always been part pantomime, part elite sport. It is the charm of the World Championship: beer, fancy dress, and precision tungsten. But when the headline story coming out of a first-round victory isn't the average, the checkout percentage, or a tactical masterclass, but rather a grown manās irrational phobia of meat juice, the sport is losing the plot.
Ricky "Rapid" Evans is a phenomenon. He throws darts faster than most people can think. He is an entertainer. After dispatching his opponent in the opening round, Evans didn't talk about his double-top proficiency. He talked about gravy. Specifically, how he hates it. "Hate it," he declared to Sky Sports, triggering a wave of social media engagement that the PDC marketing department likely salivated over more than a Sunday roast.
Itās funny. Itās quirky. It gets clicks. But letās be the bad guy for a moment and ask: Is this why we watch? Or is this the smokescreen of a player who knows he is functionally a journeyman in a field of killers, utilizing personality to mask a lack of serious silverware?
The Content Clown vs. The Cold Killer
Sport has always needed characters. Eric Bristow was arrogant. Phil Taylor was domineering. Gerwyn Price is the pantomime villain. But their personalities were amplifiers for their brilliance. Their talk was backed by a relentless, crushing ability to win.
Ricky Evans represents a new, more worrying archetype: the "Viral Dartist." In the TikTok era, being the guy who does the funny walk-on to 'YMCA' or goes on a rant about condiments offers a level of job security that mediocrity on the oche does not. The PDC, in its quest to compete with the UFC and Premier League for eyeballs, encourages this. They want the memes. They want the viral snippets.
This creates a dangerous feedback loop. If Evans feels more validated by trending on Twitter for his gravy opinions than he does for reaching a quarter-final, where is the incentive to grind? Where is the hunger to spend four hours a day on the practice board ironing out the stray darts that plague his rapid-fire action?
"A champion's mindset doesn't discuss condiments; it discusses domination. The 'funny guy' routine is often a pre-emptive defense mechanism against failure."
Compare Evans to a Michael van Gerwen. Ask MvG about gravy, and heāll likely look at you with confusion before telling you heās there to destroy his opponent. That single-mindedness is what separates the winners from the entertainers. Evans is playing to the gallery; Van Gerwen is playing for history.
The Stat Pack: Speed Kills (Your Chances)
Letās strip away the laughs and look at the cold, hard data. Ricky Evans is famous for being the fastest player on the circuit. But does speed equate to success? The data suggests an inverse correlation between "Gimmick Factor" and "Major Titles."
Below is a comparison between Evans (The Entertainer) and James Wade (The Machine), a player often criticized for being "boring" but who focuses entirely on efficiency.
| Metric | Ricky Evans (The Character) | James Wade (The Pro) |
|---|---|---|
| Throw Speed | ~2-3 seconds per visit | Deliberate, rhythmic |
| Viral Moments | High (Walk-ons, Interviews) | Low (Notoriously grumpy) |
| PDC Major Titles | 0 | 11 |
| Career Earnings (Approx) | ~Ā£400,000 | ~Ā£4,500,000+ |
The numbers don't lie. The market rewards winners. While Evans is building a brand based on speed and silliness, players like Wade, Peter Wright, and Luke Humphries are building legacies based on relentless scoring. Evans' speed is often a detriment; when the pressure mounts, he throws faster to escape the moment, rather than slowing down to master it. The gravy comments are just another form of rushingārushing to the punchline so we don't focus on the performance.
The Psychology of Self-Sabotage
Why do athletes do this? Why do they reduce themselves to caricatures? It is a classic deflection tactic. If Ricky Evans loses in the next round, the sting of defeat is mitigated by his persona. Heās "just Ricky being Ricky." Heās the guy who hates gravy! We can't be too mad at him; he made us laugh.
This is the "Clown's Shield." By lowering the intellectual stakes of his participation, he lowers the pressure. But elite sport requires pressure. You have to embrace the crushing weight of expectation, not dance around it with a YMCA routine. Until Evans decides that he hates losing more than he hates Bisto, he will remain a second-tier attractionāthe warm-up act for the main event.
The Role of the Media
We in the media are complicit. We ran the headline. Sky Sports pushed the clip. We feed the beast because we know the casual fan, tuning in once a year for the Ally Pally festivities, loves the eccentricity. But we must ask ourselves if we are servicing the sport or degrading it.
Darts has fought for decades to shed the "fat guys in a pub" image. The standard of play today is astronomical. Luke Littler is a generational talent. Luke Humphries is a machine. These athletes are pushing human hand-eye coordination to its absolute limit. When we pivot immediately to "gravy gate," we undo that hard work. We tell the world that darts is still just a bit of a laugh.
Fan Pulse: The Drunken Divide
Walk through the tables at Alexandra Palace and ask the fans what they think of Ricky Evans. The reaction is split, largely defined by how many pitchers of beer have been consumed.
- The Casuals: They adore him. He is the highlight of their night because he doesn't take it seriously. They are there for the party, and Evans is the DJ.
- The Purists: There is a growing resentment. They view the rapid throwing and the interviews as disrespectful to the geometry of the game. They want to see 9-darters, not comedy routines.
- The Bettors: Frustration. Evans is talented enough to beat anyone on his day, but his erratic nature makes him a liability. You cannot trust a man to hit double 16 when his mind is on the Sunday roast he didn't eat.
The crowd might sing his name, but they don't fear him. And in professional sport, fear is respect. Nobody wanted to draw Phil Taylor. Nobody wants to draw Luke Humphries. Everyone is happy to draw Ricky Evans because, win or lose, itāll be a laugh, wonāt it?
The Final Verdict
Ricky Evans is a talented dart player. You don't get to the World Championship without being in the top fr
We need to have a serious conversation about the Professional Darts Corporation (PDC) and its creeping descent into a variety show. The Alexandra Palace has always been part pantomime, part elite sport. It is the charm of the World Championship: beer, fancy dress, and precision tungsten. But when the headline story coming out of a first-round victory isn't the average, the checkout percentage, or a tactical masterclass, but rather a grown manās irrational phobia of meat juice, the sport is losing the plot.
Ricky "Rapid" Evans is a phenomenon. He throws darts faster than most people can think. He is an entertainer. After dispatching his opponent in the opening round, Evans didn't talk about his double-top proficiency. He talked about gravy. Specifically, how he hates it. "Hate it," he declared to Sky Sports, triggering a wave of social media engagement that the PDC marketing department likely salivated over more than a Sunday roast.
Itās funny. Itās quirky. It gets clicks. But letās be the bad guy for a moment and ask: Is this why we watch? Or is this the smokescreen of a player who knows he is functionally a journeyman in a field of killers, utilizing personality to mask a lack of serious silverware?
The Content Clown vs. The Cold Killer
Sport has always needed characters. Eric Bristow was arrogant. Phil Taylor was domineering. Gerwyn Price is the pantomime villain. But their personalities were amplifiers for their brilliance. Their talk was backed by a relentless, crushing ability to win.
Ricky Evans represents a new, more worrying archetype: the "Viral Dartist." In the TikTok era, being the guy who does the funny walk-on to 'YMCA' or goes on a rant about condiments offers a level of job security that mediocrity on the oche does not. The PDC, in its quest to compete with the UFC and Premier League for eyeballs, encourages this. They want the memes. They want the viral snippets.
This creates a dangerous feedback loop. If Evans feels more validated by trending on Twitter for his gravy opinions than he does for reaching a quarter-final, where is the incentive to grind? Where is the hunger to spend four hours a day on the practice board ironing out the stray darts that plague his rapid-fire action?
"A champion's mindset doesn't discuss condiments; it discusses domination. The 'funny guy' routine is often a pre-emptive defense mechanism against failure."
Compare Evans to a Michael van Gerwen. Ask MvG about gravy, and heāll likely look at you with confusion before telling you heās there to destroy his opponent. That single-mindedness is what separates the winners from the entertainers. Evans is playing to the gallery; Van Gerwen is playing for history.
The Stat Pack: Speed Kills (Your Chances)
Letās strip away the laughs and look at the cold, hard data. Ricky Evans is famous for being the fastest player on the circuit. But does speed equate to success? The data suggests an inverse correlation between "Gimmick Factor" and "Major Titles."
Below is a comparison between Evans (The Entertainer) and James Wade (The Machine), a player often criticized for being "boring" but who focuses entirely on efficiency.
| Metric | Ricky Evans (The Character) | James Wade (The Pro) |
|---|---|---|
| Throw Speed | ~2-3 seconds per visit | Deliberate, rhythmic |
| Viral Moments | High (Walk-ons, Interviews) | Low (Notoriously grumpy) |
| PDC Major Titles | 0 | 11 |
| Career Earnings (Approx) | ~Ā£400,000 | ~Ā£4,500,000+ |
The numbers don't lie. The market rewards winners. While Evans is building a brand based on speed and silliness, players like Wade, Peter Wright, and Luke Humphries are building legacies based on relentless scoring. Evans' speed is often a detriment; when the pressure mounts, he throws faster to escape the moment, rather than slowing down to master it. The gravy comments are just another form of rushingārushing to the punchline so we don't focus on the performance.
The Psychology of Self-Sabotage
Why do athletes do this? Why do they reduce themselves to caricatures? It is a classic deflection tactic. If Ricky Evans loses in the next round, the sting of defeat is mitigated by his persona. Heās "just Ricky being Ricky." Heās the guy who hates gravy! We can't be too mad at him; he made us laugh.
This is the "Clown's Shield." By lowering the intellectual stakes of his participation, he lowers the pressure. But elite sport requires pressure. You have to embrace the crushing weight of expectation, not dance around it with a YMCA routine. Until Evans decides that he hates losing more than he hates Bisto, he will remain a second-tier attractionāthe warm-up act for the main event.
The Role of the Media
We in the media are complicit. We ran the headline. Sky Sports pushed the clip. We feed the beast because we know the casual fan, tuning in once a year for the Ally Pally festivities, loves the eccentricity. But we must ask ourselves if we are servicing the sport or degrading it.
Darts has fought for decades to shed the "fat guys in a pub" image. The standard of play today is astronomical. Luke Littler is a generational talent. Luke Humphries is a machine. These athletes are pushing human hand-eye coordination to its absolute limit. When we pivot immediately to "gravy gate," we undo that hard work. We tell the world that darts is still just a bit of a laugh.
Fan Pulse: The Drunken Divide
Walk through the tables at Alexandra Palace and ask the fans what they think of Ricky Evans. The reaction is split, largely defined by how many pitchers of beer have been consumed.
- The Casuals: They adore him. He is the highlight of their night because he doesn't take it seriously. They are there for the party, and Evans is the DJ.
- The Purists: There is a growing resentment. They view the rapid throwing and the interviews as disrespectful to the geometry of the game. They want to see 9-darters, not comedy routines.
- The Bettors: Frustration. Evans is talented enough to beat anyone on his day, but his erratic nature makes him a liability. You cannot trust a man to hit double 16 when his mind is on the Sunday roast he didn't eat.
The crowd might sing his name, but they don't fear him. And in professional sport, fear is respect. Nobody wanted to draw Phil Taylor. Nobody wants to draw Luke Humphries. Everyone is happy to draw Ricky Evans because, win or lose, itāll be a laugh, wonāt it?
The Final Verdict
Ricky Evans is a talented dart player. You don't get to the World Championship without being in the top fr