When his voice rings out, the atmosphere at
Alexandra Palace changes in an instant. The noise fades, the focus sharpens. A single sentence turns anticipation into ecstasy. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he says with that calm that has been part of the sport’s soundtrack for years. In that moment, every fan knows: now the stage belongs to darts. John McDonald needs no effects, no music, no theatrics – his voice alone fires the starting gun for the biggest party in darts. On January 3, it will open a walk-on for the last time.
That this moment is a farewell at all came as a shock to many. After 19 years on tour, an era that has accompanied and shaped generations comes to an end. No more announcements, no more steps onto the legendary Ally Pally stage. McDonald is drawing a deliberate line under a career that gave the Professional Darts Corporation and the entire darts world a distinctive face – and above all a distinctive voice. The World Championship from December 11 to January 3 forms the fitting backdrop for the farewell of a man the sport will miss forever.
“No. I won’t miss it,”
McDonald tells Sport 1 candidly when asked about the end of his career. But he adds context. “What I will miss are the people around it. They’re the best I’ve ever worked with,” he adds, immediately shifting the focus away from himself.
The decision to step away took shape over a long period. “I didn’t wake up one day and decide I was leaving darts,” McDonald explains. It quickly became clear to him there was only one consistent solution. “Either I go completely or not at all.” At the heart of it was his family. “I have a major commitment to my family,” he says. His wife always looked after the family while he was on the road. Today he is a grandfather of eight. “It’s a good time to go.”
The final appearance in the World Championship final will be emotional. His wife and his four sons will be there live for the first time. “They’ve never been there before to see me. So what do you think?”, McDonald says with a knowing smile. The sporting dimension of the evening adds to it. “It’s for a million pounds. That’s a record. The highest prize money in history to be won by a darts player,” he emphasizes. “That alone says everything about this moment.”
He is preparing accordingly carefully. “It will be the last time anyone hears me professionally,” McDonald says. “I have to make something very special of it.” He is thinking about it intensely, even planning to jot down bullet points. Every sentence has to land.
Looking back spans almost two decades of PDC history. Pride mixes with memories of tough times. One dates back to 2007, at a meeting between Andy Fordham and Phil Taylor. “The evening turned into a huge disaster,” McDonald recalls. Fordham was very unwell, with people gathered around him.
McDonald, a trained paramedic, acted immediately. “I sent them all away, laid him on the floor, and put him in the recovery position,” he recounts. His pulse was “almost through the roof.” McDonald dialed emergency services. “Bring a defibrillator and a lot of adrenaline, otherwise there’s no way out,” he said at the time. Shortly afterwards he still had to go on stage, declare Taylor the winner, and drive home. “I just thought: never again, oh my God. What a nightmare.” The next day brought a call from Barry Hearn – with thanks and an idea that later became the Premier League Darts.
Another defining moment followed in January 2018. McDonald brought Phil Taylor onto the World Championship stage one last time. “It was breathtaking,” he says in retrospect. “I made him cry.” Taylor told him: “John, you made me cry,” and thanked him. McDonald’s reply was simple: “It’s okay, you deserve it.” Taylor remains for him “the greatest player there will ever be.”
McDonald draws comparisons with the new generation carefully. Luke Littler is exceptional, but still at the beginning. “It’s the early days of his career,” McDonald says. Littler, however, has “an almost unbelievable belief in himself.” He recalls a conversation at the JDC World Championship. McDonald told the teenager he would one day play in front of a full Ally Pally. Littler’s answer: “Yeah, right. On Wednesday.” What followed is well known.
Over two decades, McDonald got to know players in many different ways. “Some players ask you for a walk in the morning, with some I have lunch,” he says. Others sought advice on financial or private issues. “We share the disaster and the glory,” McDonald says. For him, that’s part of darts.
The job also took a physical toll. “I walk every morning from the players’ hotel to Ally Pally,” he explains. That’s over eight kilometers. “But that’s my choice.” During the World Championship, he leaves the hotel at 8:30 AM and doesn’t get back until midnight. “That’s exhausting, even for me.”
A new chapter begins after the final. “There won’t be any TV stuff from me anymore,” McDonald makes clear. A few commitments remain, then family and travel move to the forefront. “I owe some people a bit of time,” he says. He wants to discover new places in the motorhome. Croatia tops the list.
When his voice echoes through Ally Pally one last time on January 3, it will mark more than the end of a career. It is the farewell of a man who gave darts a voice – and countless moments their everlasting sound.