Sid Waddell

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  • Born: August 10, 1940
  • Died: August 11, 2012
  • Nationality: British
  • Profession: Sports Commentator, Television Presenter









Sid Waddell was an English sports commentator and television personality. He was nicknamed the 'Voice of Darts' due to his fame as a darts commentator, and worked for Granada, Yorkshire, BBC, and Sky Sports television broadcasters. Due to his joke telling skills he was also nicknamed the Thief of Bad Gags, firstly by Dave Lanning. He was nominated for two prestigious awards for his work, and published several books.

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As a kid, I was school swot, but I used to hang around the billiard halls, learning that Geordie sense of humour, mixing with low-lifes. They were the sort who'd pick your pocket and then say 'Here you are lad, here's tuppence, get yourself some chips'. I was a good rugby player, a good runner, so I fitted in at Cambridge quite easily. Education, Learning, Knowledge & Training
At various points, I've had a massive chip on me shoulder. I had fights about me accent with loads of those fellers you get from third-class public schools. They used to think I was speaking German.
Darts players are probably a lot fitter than most footballers in overall body strength.
Golden rule of life: never underestimate your rivals. Life
He looks about as happy as a penguin in a microwave.
He's about as predictable as a Wasp on speed.
He's as cool as a prized marrow!
I talk fast because I'm asthmatic, and I'm desperately hoping the words get out before my breath fails.
I want the little lassies who are thinking of going to a nightclub in Cardiff to stop to see what that guy's screaming for, or Grandma to put her knitting down to see why that guy's chatting about Alexander the Great. I'm after pulling in, whether it's in Manila, Beijing or whatever, the biggest possible audience.
I'm a postmodern commentator, and so, in a cheeky parallel to James Joyce or James Kelman, I get to places, verbally, that are a little unusual - when I talk about Jocky Wilson and end up sounding like a Jackson Pollock of the commentary box.
I'm never quite as excited as people think because with my voice, when I shout, I squeak.
I'm the world's worst after-dinner speaker. I need pictures to respond to. I was the voice of the lottery balls once and got the sack.
It's a form of mental and verbal gymnastics, and one of the things that appeals to me most about commenting on darts is that no one knows exactly what I'm going to come out with next - and neither do I.
It's like trying to pin down a kangaroo on a trampoline.
Look at the man go, its like trying to stop a water-buffalo with a pea-shooter.
That was like throwing three pickled onions into a thimble!
That's the greatest comeback since Lazarus.
The atmosphere is so tense, if Elvis walked in, with a portion of chips... you could hear the vinegar sizzle on them.
The players are under so much duress, it's like duressic park out there!
The thing about darts is that you've got to shout. It's not like cricket where you can talk to Michael Atherton and ask him to analyse the bloody nuances. Darts does not have nuances. You've got to hurl yourself at it.
The thing with darts players is they have always appeared available. They don't have to live like monks. I've only ever met one dry player in 35 years.
There hasn't been this much excitement since the Romans fed the Christians to the Lions.
Under that heart of stone beat muscles of pure flint.
Well as giraffes say, you don't get no leaves unless you stick your neck out.
When Alexander of Macedon was 33, he cried salt tears because there were no more worlds to conquer. Eric Bristow is only 27.
You can get the dart player out of the pub, but you can't get the pub out of the dart player.