Darts Player Hits One-in-a-Million Checkout Shot As PDC Official Clarifies Rule

In the high-stakes world of darts, where precision meets pressure and a single throw can turn heroes into legends, few moments capture the sport’s unpredictable magic quite like a perfect checkout. Picture this: a player stares down 170—the infamous “big fish”—needing three triple 20s followed by a bullseye double to seal the deal. Icons like Michael van Gerwen have made careers out of devouring these monsters, their darts slicing through the air with surgical accuracy. Or consider teenage sensation Luke Littler, whose ice-cold finishes have already etched his name into PDC lore, proving that checkout artistry isn’t just skill—it’s an art form bordering on sorcery. But what happens when the board fights back, when physics collides with the rules in a way no one’s ever seen? That’s exactly what unfolded in a casual home game recently, leaving players, fans, and even PDC officials scratching their heads in disbelief.

It was a standard evening setup: a well-worn dartboard mounted on a living room wall, a couple of mates trading legs in a friendly 501 match, the kind of low-key session that keeps the sport alive beyond the bright lights of Ally Pally. Kirk Bevins, a seasoned PDC referee known for his sharp eye on the oche during pro tours, stepped up to the line needing just 32 to claim the leg. For the uninitiated, 32 is a straightforward two-dart finish—double 16 does the trick, landing that final dart in the outer ring for an even 32 points and victory. Bevins, no stranger to the nuances of the game after years officiating at the highest levels, lined up confidently. His first dart flew true, embedding itself in double 8 for 16 points. Now, with 16 remaining, he needed another double 8 to wrap it up. Simple enough, right? The board seemed to agree at first—until it didn’t.

As Bevins released his second dart, aiming squarely for that double 8, something extraordinary happened. The dart veered slightly, slamming into double 16 instead—32 points in one throw. On paper, that should have been a bust: with 16 left, overscoring by 16 would revert his total to 32, forcing a reset. But here’s where the one-in-a-million twist enters. The errant dart didn’t just hit the board; it collided with Bevins’ first dart in double 8, knocking it clean out and sending it clattering to the floor. Suddenly, the math flipped. The first dart, dislodged before anyone could touch it, no longer counted under standard rules—darts must stick until retrieved by the thrower to score. That left the second dart alone in double 16, perfectly totaling 32 from the original finish. Bevins, still mid-turn, hadn’t noticed the chaos. He fired off his third dart anyway, which sailed harmlessly wide, scoring nothing.

Approaching the board, Bevins froze. “Wait, that counts?” he muttered, eyes widening as he scanned the empty space where his first dart should have been. Only one lonely flight protruded from double 16. “Does it count or not?!” His opponent, equally stunned, could only laugh in confusion. Bevins circled closer, replaying the throw in his mind. “I think I’ve just checked out! That counts, doesn’t it!? No way!!” The room erupted in a mix of cheers and head-scratching. “I don’t ever seen this in darts before,” he added, half to himself, as the reality sank in. Peering at the electronic scorer, which stubbornly read “no score” for the first two attempts before the final tally clicked to zero, he shook his head. “How is there a no-score? I have to check surely.”

What followed was pure darts drama, the kind that transcends a casual game and hurtles into viral territory. Bevins captured the moment on video, the raw footage showing every wince, every dart’s flight, and that pivotal collision in glorious slow-motion replay. Shared online with the caption, “Never seen this before.. What we saying? 😂,” it exploded across social media, racking up hundreds of thousands of views in hours. Fans flooded in with reactions—some calling it a “cheat code” for the ages, others debating if it was sheer luck or board sabotage. The clip’s tags pulled in heavy hitters: fellow darts enthusiasts and, crucially, PDC insiders who could settle the score.

Enter Owen Binks, a respected PDC official whose rule breakdowns have schooled generations of players. Tagged in the frenzy, Binks wasted no time weighing in: “Game shot.” But for the purists demanding details, it was Bevins himself—leveraging his referee expertise—who delivered the definitive verdict. “Yes, that’s game shot,” he explained. “He hadn’t bust when he threw his 2nd dart and at the point of retrieval it was game shot.” In essence, the rules hinge on what sticks at the end of the turn. The first dart, ejected by the second’s impact, vanished from the equation—no score, no bust. The second dart stood firm at 32, and the third’s miss was irrelevant. No over-scoring, no reset; just a clean, if wildly unconventional, checkout. It’s a ruling rooted in the Darts Regulation Authority’s core principles: darts that bounce out or get dislodged before retrieval simply don’t count, preserving the game’s integrity while allowing for these rare physics-defying flukes.

This isn’t just a quirky anecdote—it’s a reminder of darts’ enduring appeal. In a sport where pros like Littler routinely nail 100-plus averages under TV glare, it’s the everyday warriors like Bevins who keep the fire burning. His dual role as player and referee adds layers: one minute enforcing Van Gerwen’s epic 170s on tour, the next engineering his own improbable finish in a dimly lit den. The incident has sparked broader chatter too—about board quality (was it a blade-wire model prone to such drama?), strategy under uncertainty, and even house rules for pub leagues. One fan quipped, “If you bust, can you try and throw one at it to knock it out? 😂” Another broke it down clinically: “Hits the D8 then hits the D16 knocking the original dart out—game shot.”

As the video continues to circulate, it’s clear this moment has cemented itself in darts folklore. In a game built on exactitude, where the oche’s 7-foot-9-inch line separates triumph from heartbreak, Bevins’ checkout stands as a testament to the sport’s joyful chaos. Whether you’re a PDC die-hard dreaming of the World Championship’s million-pound pots or a backyard thrower chasing bragging rights, it begs the question: in darts, is it skill, luck, or just the board having the last laugh? One thing’s certain—next time you line up for double 16, glance at your opponent’s throw a little closer. You never know when the board might pull a fast one.