“Mental health? My mother would have said, are you a man or a mouse? Get on with it” – Phil Taylor on tough upbringing that forged darts’ most ruthless mindset

Phil Taylor has opened up on the tough upbringing that shaped his ruthless mentality, while also revealing how a changing darts landscape later left him questioning whether the sport was still for him.

The sixteen-time world champion, who rose from humble beginnings with money as his early motivation, recalled how that same relentless mindset carried him to the top before a shift in crowd culture made him realise his career was coming to an end, speaking in conversation with the Double Tops podcast.

Taylor’s journey began with a simple motivation. “Money was my motivation in the beginning, because obviously I ain’t got no money,” he said.

That first breakthrough win quickly showed how different the sport was at the time. “Then the first time I won, I think it was £500, I bought a shower from British Gas. Nobody had a shower. So, I had this power shower, which you press the button, it’s enormous,” he recalled. “The whole street were knocking. ‘Phil, can I have a look at your shower?’”

The scale of that early prize money remained a source of amusement as his career progressed. “I did! It’s great. £500, that was a lot of money then. And then when I won the worlds, the first one, it was £24,000,” he said. “And my neighbours again were knocking on, ‘Phil, can we have a look at that money? I’ve never seen £24,000.’ I said, ‘I haven’t got it, it’s in the bank, it’s a cheque.’ He thought they’d give me a suitcase full of money, like I was a bank robber or something, it was brilliant. I said, ‘I haven’t got it.’”

From those beginnings, Taylor would go on to dominate the sport for more than two decades, winning 16 world titles and setting a standard that still defines the professional game.

That success was rooted in a mindset shaped long before the titles arrived. “Well, my dad with my mother, I mean, if I’d have said I got mental health, she’d have said, are you a man or a mouse? Get on with it,” he said. “Yeah, suck it up and get on with it. You’ve got a family to look after.”

That same approach carried through into his everyday life. “You couldn’t lie in bed either. When I was working, I was working seven days a week,” Taylor said. “If I said to my mother, she did it once, it only happens once. Get up. I’m up and I’m banging my foot on the ceiling. You’re banging your foot again, you little swine. Get up. The next thing you know, bucket of water.”

Even at the height of his dominance, that mentality never changed. “My dad’s forte was, right, you’ve won that, put the trophy over there, get ready for your next one. Because you’re only as good as your next tournament,” he said. “If you win the World Championship and then you’re playing a Players and get beat, you’re going to be plastered.”

It was that relentless outlook that underpinned a career in which Taylor reached 21 world finals and dominated the sport across multiple generations.

Despite that success, Taylor has revealed there was a clear moment when things began to feel different. “I was never really sure when, or if, I would want to retire but I was told that I would wake up one morning and just know that I’d had enough,” he said.

That moment came during one of his most successful events. “I was playing Terry Jenkins at the World Matchplay – I always thought the crowd at that tournament were the best around,” he recalled. “They were real darts fans and I looked around during my match with Terry and the atmosphere wasn’t what it used to be. That was the first time I was thinking, ‘this isn’t right and my career is coming to an end.’”

He suggested that shift was tied to a broader change in the sport’s audience. “I wasn’t used to the sort of new-age crowd of everyone at the bar in fancy dress, and I think that’s the same with the worlds now,” he said.

It was a contrast to the environment in which he had built his career. “I’d struggle being a commentator or that type of role because I’ve always been used to being able to say whatever I want – but you can’t do that these days,” he admitted.

Even with that growing sense that the end was approaching, the process itself was not immediate. “I knew roughly when I was going to retire but that year really dragged out – a bit like when you’re waiting to go on holiday,” he said.

That combination of early hunger, relentless mentality and eventual disconnect with a changing sport ultimately brought an end to a career that not only dominated darts, but helped shape it into the global spectacle it is today.