In the high-octane universe of professional darts, where the oche becomes a stage for teenage prodigies to defy gravity and the roar of Alexandra Palace crowds can drown out the doubters, Luke Littler has emerged as the unlikeliest of icons. At just 18, the Warrington wonder—nicknamed “The Nuke” for his explosive checkouts and unflappable demeanor—has already conquered the PDC World Darts Championship twice over, pocketed millions in prize money, and turned a niche pub game into a global frenzy. His 2025 season kicked off with a bang, avenging his heartbreaking 2024 final loss to Luke Humphries by dethroning Michael van Gerwen in a thriller at Ally Pally, claiming the £500,000 crown and etching his name as the youngest world champion in history. From there, it was a whirlwind: a Premier League Darts triumph, a World Matchplay victory that completed darts’ prestigious Triple Crown, and a string of nine-darters that left jaws on the floor. Littler’s laser-guided throws and boyish charm have drawn over 5 million viewers to broadcasts, outpacing even Premier League football in some slots. Yet, beneath the glory, the relentless schedule has taken its toll, prompting the phenom to tease a tactical retreat—a “step back” from the sport’s ceaseless grind. Now, in a candid revelation that’s as endearing as it is revealing, Littler has shared his blueprint for reclaiming some normalcy: a sun-soaked holiday with his girlfriend and family, a deliberate unplugging from the dartboard to savor the life he’s earned.
The catalyst for this introspection? A grueling 2025 calendar that’s left little room for breath, let alone reflection. Since hoisting the Sid Waddell Trophy in January, Littler’s diary has been a blur of transatlantic flights, sold-out arenas, and endorsement deals with everyone from fast-food chains to fashion brands. His earnings have skyrocketed past £1.5 million this year alone, fueled by a £200,000-per-night Premier League payday and bonus hauls from Down Under events like the Australian Darts Masters, where he dismantled Belgium’s Mike De Decker 8-4 in Wollongong. But the highs came with hidden costs. Skipping the recent Players Championship double-header in Leicester—a rare no-show that saw him tumble to 68th on the Order of Merit, just shy of the top-64 cutoff for the finals—Littler admitted the burnout was real. “This year has just been full-on,” he confessed to Darts News, his Merseyside accent laced with weary honesty. “That comes with winning the Worlds—more to do, more people to talk to.” It’s a stark contrast to his breakout 2024, when a fairy-tale run to the world final at age 16 catapulted him from obscurity to overnight sensation, complete with pizza-fueled press conferences and viral memes. Back then, he could steal moments of downtime; now, the machine demands constant fuel.
Enter the human side of the headlines: Littler’s relationship with 19-year-old beauty therapist Faith Millar, a partnership that’s blossomed amid the chaos and offered a grounding force in his stratospheric ascent. The couple, who went official in May after cozy Instagram snaps from a Spanish family getaway, have become darts’ sweetest subplot. Millar, with her radiant smile and unwavering support, was spotted courtside at the Australian Darts Masters and the Premier League finale, cheering as Littler traded barbs with Humphries. Their story isn’t without its thorns—Littler has been candid about the “jealous trolls” who flooded social media after their World Matchplay embrace, nitpicking everything from age gaps to authenticity. “It was tough at first,” he admitted on DartsStream Live earlier this summer, defending Millar as “a lovely lady” who’d been his rock during the Blackpool triumph. Before her, there was Eloise Milburn, the 21-year-old beauty consultant who captured hearts alongside him at Ally Pally in 2024, only for their romance to fizzle under the weight of his exploding career. That split in July, reportedly strained by the “taxing schedule that left little room for personal life,” taught Littler a hard lesson: fame’s spotlight can scorch the closest bonds. With Millar, he’s flipped the script, issuing a preemptive “warning” about the online vitriol before going public. “She’s exactly what I needed,” he reflected, crediting her for pulling him away from the oche’s glare. Their New York jaunt ahead of the US Darts Masters—snapped arm-in-arm under the summer sun, shades on and smiles wide—hinted at the balance he’s craving, a brief escape before the Theater at Madison Square Garden showdown.
Looking ahead to 2026, Littler’s “darts break claim” isn’t a retirement whisper but a strategic reset, a vow to weave in holidays that prioritize heart over headlines. “I didn’t have the chance this year. Last year I managed to, but this year… no,” he told his interviewer, eyes distant as if mapping out sandy beaches already. “In 2026, there’ll definitely be a few holidays for me. I’ll take the time to go away with my girlfriend and family, without even thinking about darts.” It’s a poignant pivot for a kid who, at 16, joked about his single status and fielded cheeky DMs from admirers post-world final. Now, with maturity accelerating faster than his averages (often north of 100), he’s plotting escapes that echo the simplicity of his pre-fame days—perhaps a lazy Mediterranean cruise or a low-key Caribbean retreat, far from the £125 million Sky Sports broadcast deals and Saudi-backed “crazy” rule twists Barry Hearn is cooking up. This isn’t idleness; it’s investment. Darts legends like Phil Taylor preached the gospel of rest, warning that burnout felled more careers than missed doubles. For Littler, who’s already out-earned some veterans’ lifetimes at his tender age, it’s about longevity—ensuring the fire that fueled his nine-darter barrages doesn’t flicker out.
The darts world, ever the family affair, has rallied around his candor. Rivals like Van Gerwen, who once teased Littler’s “easy life” sans family pressures, now nod in respect, knowing the toll all too well. Fans, too, have flooded socials with supportive memes: Littler on a beach lounger, dart in hand as a cocktail umbrella. As the Players Championship finals loom this weekend—where he’ll need a minor miracle to sneak into the top 64—Littler’s gaze is fixed beyond the immediate. His World Series commitments in New Zealand and beyond promise more glory, but the real win? Carving out space for love and laughter amid the lunacy. In a sport where every leg is a gamble, Littler’s betting on himself—not just as “The Nuke,” but as Luke, the lad from Warrington who dreams of girlfriend getaways and guilt-free sunsets. As 2025 fades, his story reminds us: even prodigies need pauses. And when he returns, refreshed and recharged, the oche will tremble anew.
Leave a Reply