Gary Anderson beats Adrian Lewis to retain PDC World Championship

Scot avenges 2011 final defeat with a 7-5 victory at the Alexandra Palace

For the second year in succession Gary Anderson won the PDC World Championship final by sinking the final dart of the tournament into the green bed of his favourite double: 12. His victory over Adrian Lewis marked the end of a compelling but weird encounter that failed to reach classic status due to inconsistency on the part of two players whose paths to the final could scarcely have been more straightforward in an event punctuated by tense and thrilling encounters.

Absorbing as it was, this was not one of them, a point the relieved champion was happy to concede. “It was a scrape from the word go,” said Anderson. “There were some good darts and some really bad ones. I’m getting old, I’ll take a scrape. I’ve got it for another 12 months at least.”

For all that, the numbers stood up to scrutiny. Staging a repeat of the 2011 final won by Lewis, both players combined to break the record for maximums thrown in any game of darts in history to keep their match averages hovering around the 100 mark. But ultimately it was Andersonwho prevailed in the most important statistics of all, hammering home 26 doubles over the course of 12 sets, compared with his friend’s 19, to win by seven sets to five.

His killer blow was a monster check-out of 170 in the penultimate leg of a final set that left Lewis reeling. The 45-year-old from Scottish Borders concluded formalities by closing out the final leg to become the fourth player to defend his first world title successfully.

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The popularity of top-class darts shows no sign of waning, with Alexandra Palace once again drawing a capacity crowd of largely beered-up arrow enthusiasts determined to wring every last drop of merriment out of the tail-end of the festive season.

As is customary, many braved the wind and rain on a particularly filthy night in north London in fancy dress; the usual plethora of Flintstones, Stormtroopers and Thunderbirds added to the gaiety of an occasion where darting excellence on the oche can at times take a backseat to the raucous roistering on the floor below.

Once the dry ice had cleared in the wake of bombastic introductions and walk-ons featuring loud music, lasers and Lovely Girls, it was Lewis who settled first, snaffling the first set by three legs to one and notching his first maximum in the process. It was an uncharacteristically sluggish start from Anderson, who had lost only two sets in his effortless five-match procession to the final, but he immediately responded by winning the second set to nil, breaking Lewis in the middle leg as he nailed three consecutive doubles.

A meandering match of many twists and turns in which both players blew infuriatingly hot and cold edged emphatically in Anderson’s favour in set seven, which he won against Lewis’s throw. It seemed a pivotal moment and Anderson promptly whitewashed his opponent to roar into a two-set lead, somewhat fortuitously considering he registered one of at least three bizarre mid-match miscounts that should have got Lewis out of jail but did not quite.

With the match inching beyond him the man they call Jackpot’s response was superb as he rat-a-tatted three quick legs to make it 5-4 with a check-out of 121. It would prove a game but ultimately futile fightback as Anderson responded with another slap-down, calmly closing out the 10th with a 108 checkout to lead 6-4 and put the winning line in sight.

Needing to win three of the final four sets to take the title, Lewis once again halved the deficit with three consecutive legs in which he monstered Anderson. Surfing a tidal wave of momentum he went on to win the opening leg of the 12th set against the throw, only for the eventual winner to interrupt his run with an out-shot of 64.

The Scotsman’s next leg was sublime, concluding with a maximum take-out of 170 to leave him one leg shy of victory and a cheque for £300,000 which he secured with his usual minimum of fuss.

“It was a slog,” said Anderson. “We just plodded along. It felt like I was waiting for Aidy to start and he was waiting for me to start. It was weird. There was some good darts and some darts that were miles off. I think that’s what makes the game the game it is.”

That and a couple of thousand drunks roaring on the competitors in fancy dress. Long may they all continue.

(Guardian service)