Why Kennedy Smiled As He Said Goodbye
To some, Charles Kennedy’s dethronement from the sometimes-dizzy heights at the top of the Liberal Democrat hierarchy has not been viewed with same widespread disappointment as to be found at the grassroots of his party. As lentil soup went cold on Friday evening in shocked homesteads across the South West of England, the news was a welcome relief to many up North who still remember the lofty ambitions of the young Kennedy and believed he would waste his prime years leading a minor political party into anonymity. Instead, they now believe his stepping down from leadership will finally allow Kennedy to return to his first love where his talents will not go unnoticed: the world of professional darts.
It is difficult to believe that Kennedy’s passion of darts has been a kept such a secret within Westminster, but the ‘love of the bull’ has been there long before the young ginger-haired hopeful first arrived on the scene. A disciple of David Owen, himself no mean adept behind the ockie, Kennedy flourished in the atmosphere of early eighties politics. Yet more important to Kennedy’s intellectual growth was his long-time friendship with fellow Scot, Jockie Wilson, who was also studying for a Masters degree in Politics and Philosophy at Glasgow University. Whilst Kennedy and Wilson shared a love of the flying steel shafts and formed a dart partnership that is still remembered fondly in many Glasgow snug, it was Wilson who first introduced Kennedy to politics. Wilson was himself an aspiring politician, whose MA thesis, ‘Ye Better Na Spill Me Ale: Social Dynamics and Privatisation’ influenced early SDP political thought. Yet in a cruel twist of fate, Wilson’s chosen career would be forbidden to him through a back injury that meant he would never be able to cradle a baby and left him allergic to suede elbow patches on jackets, but left him perfectly able to launch steel darts twenty feet across a room with unfailing accuracy.
The sad irony now, of course, is that in the world of professional darts, there is no such thing as ‘alcoholism’, which routinely goes under the euphemism of ‘over training’. A stiff drink is said to help steady the hand ready for the ‘arrows’ and Kennedy’s drinking has always been integral to his love of the sport in which Eric Bristow once tipped him as a future world champion. It is said that he is never happier than with a pint in his hand, sweating fiercely under the bright lights in some Labour club, and facing a battle over three sets with an overweight Glaswegian welder in a florid silk shirt. Waking to the new reality of life outside politics, Kennedy can now only wonder how long it will take him to scale the heights of the professional dart league.
It is believed that negotiations have already begun to see Kennedy on the professional tour within six months, with the hope of his aspiring to the World Championships in the spring of 2007. Should he reach his potential, Charles ‘The Moleman’ Kennedy might make more of an impact than he ever did in his years within the House of Commons. We are sure that all wish him well, and that his arrows fly straight and his treble twenties always add up to one hundred and eighty.
