Tony Scott (right) is the longest standing member of the "Rose & Crown" a real stalwart, a player you can rely on in a crises. "Scotty" as he is affectionately known takes you back to an era long since forgotten in the world of pub darts, an era when the public bar was a man's domain and not littered with old pub memorabilia and gastro menus offering such delights as "Steamed daurade Royale with candied aubergine, spicy ketchup and bok choi " Just what the f**k is that stuff all about? "A pint of bitter and a pie and mash please luv". Where have them days gone? I'll tell you where! Gone with the old style pub landlord that's where. " Je m'appelle Jean Phillipe, I will be your 'ost for ze evening". That is where them days have gone! "Your 'Ost for ze evening", "F**K OFF GARCON I'll have a light 'n' bitter, 'alf ounze of old holborn and a packet of pork scratchin's please mate". Long gone have those days and going with them are the characters like "Scotty" to be replaced by an ever growing population of the "yummy Mummy" brigade. Hell bent on replacing our beloved bar stalls with high chairs and bibs.
"Scotty" has been the backbone of the team since these bygone days, back in the day when the Blue Anchor reigned supreme as the top St. Michael's village dart team and the Rose & Crown was just a glint in Scotty's eye. Back in these days silence on the oche was strictly observed and the fog of cigarette and cigar smoke provided a shroud by way of which the younger generation could hide and avoid the labours of chalking. This is when darts was darts and nothing else mattered and the "gastro" food would be a curled up cheese and onion sandwich slightly discoloured by the smoke billowing out from the open fireplace. Scotty truly belongs to this bygone era a reminder to us all of how darts used to be played.
But it's adapt or die in today's ever increasingly do as we tell you nanny state democracy and "Scotty" can now be seen swathed in full length duffel coats huddled together under the centuries old traditional pub sign with numerous other social outcasts who wish to smoke, eat jellied eels or who even dare to order a brown and mild, meanwhile inside, the jukebox belts out such classic ballads as "Smack My Bitch Up" as a group of ASBO rich delinquent's order up another round of "wifebeater"
We salute you Tony Scott. See you Thursday
"Scotty" has been the backbone of the team since these bygone days, back in the day when the Blue Anchor reigned supreme as the top St. Michael's village dart team and the Rose & Crown was just a glint in Scotty's eye. Back in these days silence on the oche was strictly observed and the fog of cigarette and cigar smoke provided a shroud by way of which the younger generation could hide and avoid the labours of chalking. This is when darts was darts and nothing else mattered and the "gastro" food would be a curled up cheese and onion sandwich slightly discoloured by the smoke billowing out from the open fireplace. Scotty truly belongs to this bygone era a reminder to us all of how darts used to be played.
But it's adapt or die in today's ever increasingly do as we tell you nanny state democracy and "Scotty" can now be seen swathed in full length duffel coats huddled together under the centuries old traditional pub sign with numerous other social outcasts who wish to smoke, eat jellied eels or who even dare to order a brown and mild, meanwhile inside, the jukebox belts out such classic ballads as "Smack My Bitch Up" as a group of ASBO rich delinquent's order up another round of "wifebeater"
We salute you Tony Scott. See you Thursday
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