If you ever want to know what December feels like in the darting cosmos, follow Rapid Ricky Evans through Scotland for a weekend. Edinburgh, Glasgow, Alloa — it didn’t matter. Everywhere he went, the crowds crackled like they’d been plugged directly into the national grid. For Evans, it was a whirlwind of noise, banter and baffling accents and he was happy to to chat exclusively to Darts World about the lot:
“It’s been good fun. I haven’t understood a lot of people, they’re talking a bit too fast for me but yeah I’ve just been bashed up by Gary Anderson. A battering? Maybe. A blast? Definitely. And he’d go back tomorrow. “It’s been good fun. I’ve loved it and yeah hopefully they bring me back.”
But what struck him most wasn’t the venues — it was the lunacy of the Scottish faithful. A different frequency entirely.“As an Englishman… it makes you think why are we not like this because it’s just a different kettle up here. They’re just mental.”
It’s that fire, that absolute delirium, that seems to have rekindled something in Evans right at the perfect moment — because his year on tour has quietly been sharpening into something dangerous.
The Grand Slam, for instance, didn’t just boost his ranking — it rebuilt his belief. “I was a qualifier… so it was like a free shot again. Loved it, loved every minute of it.”
Sharing the stage with titans like Price, Wade and Woodhouse was one thing. Beating two of them? Another entirely. “I proved to myself more than most people I could still play darts.” He still rues the long-format knockout — “…best of 31? I think that got me in the end… I lost to one of the world’s best.”
But the point landed: Rapid is still rapid. He still belongs. Minehead more recently for the Players Championship Finals however, brought its usual curse. “I just can’t seem to win legs let alone matches… my darts weren’t sticking to the board…”. Yet even through frustration, there was no defeatism — just realism, humour and that classic Evans absorb-the-hit-and-move-on attitude. “It hurt… but I’m still in good form. I didn’t play bad… it’s just one of those things.”
Now, with Ally Pally thundering into view, Evans has one man blocking the gates: Man Lok Leung.
He doesn’t underestimate him. Not for a second. “He can throw a dart… you have to respect these people.” These international qualifiers? They frighten the life out of half the tour. Not Ricky. “If I don’t play well, I’m going home… I’ve got 12 days to get ready and I’ll be ready.”
And here’s where the smile reappears — because Evans loves the Worlds, loves the cameras, the costumes, the chaos, the country watching. “I’m more nervous on the walk-on than the darts… I can’t wait to play… it could be a boring 3-0 win but I don’t care. I just want to play now.”
Ally Pally is his stage. Always has been. “Most of my most memorable moments in darts are there.” The Chisnall win. The Aspinall thriller. The Whitlock comeback. The walk-ons, the dances, the daftness, the joy. The top of Muswell Hill in North London is where Rapid becomes Rapid.
Evans still backs himself to gatecrash the top 16. He always has. And the respect from the locker room is real. “These boys know… I beat Gary twice on the floor… Josh Rock… I beat these players.”
The issue? Consistency — and the modern brutality of the Pro Tour. “Darts has never been so strong… you’ve got to be on it from dart one… 128 guys that probably think the same as me: I can win this today.”
But the fire hasn’t dimmed. Not even close. “One day I’m going to win one. I don’t care if I’m 87 years old… I’m going to win one.” That’s Rapid Evans distilled. Chaos. Humour. Self-belief. A touch of madness. And beneath it: ambition that refuses to die.
He admits he overthinks, that he’s his own toughest critic. But 2025 has brought him something more important than form — happiness. He lights up talking about his girlfriend. “Yeah… I’m in a happier place… she’s good for me… it’s not a coincidence I’m doing well.” It shows. Not just in his darts. In his tone. His perspective. His steadiness.
For Evans, simply reaching the Ally Pally this year meant everything. “I was very emotional… qualifying was big for me.” He’ll have his mum there for the first time too — even if, according to the speedster, she’ll spend most of it on her phone playing Candy Crush. “Everything’s a bonus now.”
His real target? “Get past Christmas.” Said every year. Failed every year. But this year feels different. “Have fun, have fun.” If Rapid does that, anything — absolutely anything — becomes possible.
—–ENDS—–
Images: PDC
