ium’s 2026 Paddy Power World Championship campaign did not merely fail. It collapsed. It imploded. This afternoon witnessed the final, merciless nail driven clean through the coffin as their number one, Mike De Decker, was sensationally and unforgettably sent home by Kenyan debutant David Munyua.
This was not just defeat for the tungsten rich nation. This was extinction. The warning signs were there from the very start. Darts World chronicled the early tremors when Kim Huybrechts and Mario Vandenbogaerde were dismissed by qualifiers Arno Merk and David Davies respectively. Alarming, yes – but survivable. Belgium still had ammunition. Still had pedigree. Still had hope. Andy Baetens, Dimitri van den Bergh and Mike De Decker. Surely the cavalry would arrive to spare the blushes. It never did.
All five Belgians who marched up Muswell Hill have now marched straight back down it, eliminated, erased, and exiled from this World Championship before Santa has even dusted off the sleigh. After the fall of The Hurricane and Super Mario, attention snapped firmly to Dimitri van den Bergh – the DreamMaker, the Matchplay and UK Open champion, the man built for the big stage. Standing opposite him was Darren Beveridge, no mug, no passenger, a hardened Pro Tour operator… but this still felt like it was about Belgium’s first taste of success. Instead, it became a public unravelling.
Van den Bergh, a player who has illuminated majors like a firework display for years, never sparked. The Antwerp Ace looked a million miles from the happy, dancing, decorated player that he is – hitting just one double from seventeen attempts. Time away for personal reasons had not worked the way Dimi and his legions of fans had of wanted. Beveridge did not need to be spectacular. He simply needed to be there. 3–0. Gone. Three fallen. Two left.
Andy Baetens stepped into the breach next, facing perhaps the most brutal draw of the lot – Dirk van Duijvenbode. The Beast from the East was the only Belgian not to enter his match as favourite, and yet, paradoxically, he emerged with the most credit. A 3–2 defeat to the Aubergenius, but one fought with heart, quality, and defiance. If Belgium were handing out internal medals, Baetens takes gold.
Which left one man. Mike De Decker. Belgium’s final hope. The nation’s number one. Last year’s World Grand Prix champion. A proven winner. And standing in his way? David Munyua. Kenyan. Debutant. Seasonal average south of 80. First time on the Ally Pally stage. First time outside his home continent. On paper, this was a mismatch so severe bookmakers barely bothered sharpening their pencils.
When Munyua fell two sets behind, logic nodded approvingly. The script was behaving. Order was being restored. Divine intervention would now be required. And then… the impossible happened. Perhaps freed by the absence of expectation, perhaps buoyed by the roar of a crowd that had fully adopted him, Munyua loosened his grip and let the darts fly. What began as damage limitation turned into belief. Belief into momentum. Momentum into history. 2–0 became 2–1. 2–1 became 2–2. The arena shifted. The air changed.
Even then, surely experience would prevail. Surely De Decker would steady the ship – especially after breaking throw and taking the opening leg of the decider. Surely. But Ally Pally had chosen its hero. Roared on by a crowd that had completely abandoned neutrality, Munyua surged. The match flipped on its head. Legs disappeared. Control evaporated. The Kenyan drew strength from the noise, from the moment, from the sheer audacity of what was unfolding.
Was it flawless? No. His Achilles heel – counting – crept in. Twice he checked magnificently… on finishes he did not actually need. He even survived the ultimate Ally Pally rite of passage: the infamous wasp hovering dangerously close to his right eye. Never a good time or place to get stung but semi-blinded during a World Championship match, up there with the more non-ideal scenarios.
Eventually, fate testing resolve. Munyua. And with that, Belgian darts was done. All five gone. No round two representation. Before the crackers. Before the turkey. Before Christmas had even knocked.
If you backed Belgium arrow-smiths to lose all five matches before a dart was thrown in anger, congratulations – drinks are on you. You’ve just landed one of the bets of the century.
