If it looks too good to be true, it generally is. But, when dealing with Michael Van Gerwen, nothing can be ruled out. There were those, and yours truly must confess to being them, who, privately at least, began to wonder had the halo of greatness begun to slip.
Any such non believers have got their answer plus interest in the last couple of weeks of Premier League action. To the extent that it seemed perfectly set up for the Green Machine to reign supreme in front of his own people.
But it didn’t exactly turn out that way. The affable Joe Cullen proving to be party pooper-in-chief whllst gaining a thoroghly deserved nightly victory for himself. The Bradford man has, through hard work and self belief and no little skill, propelled himself from, with the greatest of respect, journeyman pro to genuine top level contender.
As best demonstrated not so much by the fact that he beat Gary Anderson in Holland, more so in the way he reacted – or, more pointedly, didn’t, to the Scot’s annoying petulance at the end of their quarter final clash.
Anderson is and will remain my favourite player but in more recent years he has developed a narky, gnarly streak which does him a disservice. One was inclined to forgive his angst a couple of years ago when faced by the tempestuous pup that is Gerwyn Price. But there appeared to be little or no jutification for his growling at Cullen as the latter had won.
Thereafter, in the battle of the red shirts, he got the better of Jonny Clayton of Wales, setting up a showdown with the hometown hero in the night’s final. For his part, that meant it was MVG’s third final in a row. Thus scoffing any brouhaha about his form.
There can be no doubt about Cullen’s form or his residing among his sport’s elite. The Rockstar stole the show in Rotterdam, the whistle-stop tour continues…
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