It doesn't have a name yet, but it might be 'Performance Environment Technician'. It might not. I might replace 'Technician' with 'Creative'. Anyway, it would basically involve matching darts players with the music they walk on to.
The most unlikely people seem to develop an all-consuming obsession with darts for the duration of any televised tournament. This also happens with snooker (and to those fans I say RIP David Vine), except that the all-consumed seem to become even more consumed, which probably means they're existing in some kind of negative reality. ANYWAY. I am not one of those people, but I did happen to see the start of one of the darts semi-finals at the weekend. As each player enters the darting arena - I know I am getting the lexicon of darts so, so wrong – a kind of signature song is played. It seems like boxing in this respect, but without the satin dressing gowns.
Some examples: On Saturday, the victorious Tony O'Shea came on to Hey Baby by DJ Otzi. This, if you ask me, is kind of lame. Any walk-on is, I feel, cheapened by a background of Europop. You're not a tiger, you're some kind of repetitively squawking parakeet. And they can't play darts. Darryl Fitton may have lost the match/game/bout but he won the battle of the walk-on music by choosing One Step Beyond by Madness. With the minimum of research, I have discovered that Martin Adams, who lost the other semi-final, enters to Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran, which seems a brilliantly flamboyant choice for such a traditionally working class sport.
And I can't believe that no one would have bagged Darts Of Pleasure by Franz Ferdinand yet. If not, I'm reserving that for myself just in case I ever decide to give the arrows a go, competition-wise.
Even in its remotest pastures – which is to say darts – sport seems to be less and less about pure physical endeavour, and more about the application of science (psychology in particular), sponsorship and celebrity. The choice of walk-on music, then, is absolutely critical, to focus and stimulate the senses (I want to say 'pump you up', but that sounds common), raise the profile and deliver a player to the oche like a jungle cat ready to pounce.
So I'm imagining my own consultancy (I'm struggling with the name – Let's Face The Music And Darts?) where rookie darts players, new to the circuit, come to my office, are offered a choice of herbal teas and mineral waters, talk to me about their dreams and fears for their career, and perhaps their star sign. I might ask them to walk up and down to assess the rhythm of their gait. You couldn't, for example, have someone with an urgent, nimble, pitter-pattering tread walking on to Barry White or some loose-limbed reggae. I don't imagine there are many darts players who walk like this, but every player is an individual (that's part of my mission statement).
I might then hold up some colour swatches to their face in front of a mirror, to find out what 'season' they are. And then I would subject them to a rigorous round of psychometric testing [1. Imagine you are throwing darts at a photograph pinned to a wall. Is it a photo of a) your mother, b) your father, c) Eric Bristow, the Crafty Cockney, d) yourself? etc etc].
At the end of all this, I present them with a small selection of anthems perfectly matched to their darts persona. They come burned on to a CD in a presentation case, with a cover I have designed specially on my computer, printed out, maybe found was slightly too big, then had to cut round the edges to make it fit in.
That will be £3,500 please.