There were many reasons to regret the early exit of Peter “One Dart” Manley from the Ladbrokes.com PDC World Darts Championship at Alexandra Palace in North London. Plucked from the tournament at the first time of asking by an Austrian qualifier, the pink-smocked world No 13 left a big hole, in a number of senses.

For one thing, Manley has become a magnet for heckling, booing and general abuse - most of it good-natured, in fact, but all of it integral to the annual “Champs” experience and a substantial return on the price of entry. It was hard to avoid the feeling that, in his sudden, unlooked-for absence, here was a panto without a villain. Boo, indeed.

More critically, though, with Manley gone, the tournament had lost its best walk-on. I don't think anyone would dispute that. One Dart may have been witnessing the slow desertion of his form at the oche in recent months, but his walk-on holds firm as the finest on the circuit - probably the finest in sport.

Now, there are darts purists who would argue that the walk-on is an irrelevance - a mere piece of preliminary bluster and meretricious noise-making, borrowed from boxing and levered into place by television, in which the self-conscious darter is obliged to take an unnecessarily roundabout route to the stage in order to get his hair ruffled in a semi-parodic manner by overrefreshed well-wishers.

But that view woefully underestimates the spectacle and its broader significance. The first function of the walk-on, after all, is to remind us of darts' essentially gladiatorial roots. And if that involves using Motorhead's King of Kings (the chosen theme of Mervyn “The King” King, and arrived at, one can't help thinking, by Googling the word “king”), then so be it.

Its second function is to establish character and set tone. And here's where the artistry comes in. At its best, the darts walk-on achieves a marriage of man and music unwitnessed - unattempted, even - outside the world of contemporary dance. And that's very much, we suggest, the level that One Dart is working at, with his use of Tony Christie's (Is This The Way To) Amarillo, complete with comedy walk and mimed darts-throwing.

With Manley and Christie out of the way, the best we can hope for is a decent run for Wayne “Hawaii 501” Mardle's walk-on. His deployment of the Hawaii Five-O theme tune is a reliable arena crowd-pleaser, and, again, involves dancing, as one would expect from “the great entertainer”.

Furthermore, thankfully Phil “The Power” Taylor's entry to Snap's The Power looks as durable this year as in any other. The arrival of the 13-times world champion is heralded, appropriately enough, with claps of thunder and stomach-scouring bursts of synthesized guitar, the combination of which sounds like someone trying to start God's lawnmower in a storm. True, the Power tends to relate in interviews that he is bored rigid by this routine, but some things are immutable, I'm afraid, and he is stuck with it.

Raymond van Barneveld, too, looks set to go the distance with Survivor's Eye of the Tiger, the walk-on music he brought across from the BDO when he switched codes in 2006. Many would say that there is only so much Eighties pomp rock they need to hear in any given evening, but the riff is indestructible and clearly, for the Dutchman, a source of considerable private strength.

We worry, though, for Andy “The Hammer” Hamilton, a player of undoubted grit and ability whom many are tipping to go all the way this year. Yet it is his unfortunate destiny to come before the public to the strains of U Can't Touch This by MC Hammer, the Milky Bar rap artist. Nobody should be expected to endure that.

Of course, a certain amount of mystery surrounds the appointment of these themes. Rumour has it that television producers tend to be deeply involved - and that, moreover, a television executive was once famously overhead saying, “If we let the players choose their own music, we'd never play anything but Queen.” (In fact, only Ronnie “Rocket” Baxter among the high-profile players slips under the net as a Freddie Mercury disciple, arriving to Don't Stop Me Now.) But whoever is behind the selection originally, there is no doubt that the players come to own their walk-on themes, in a way. Most darts players are no more willing to switch their music than they are to change the weight of their darts at short notice.

This, inevitably, results in a certain amount of stasis. Dennis “The Menace” Priestley still comes on to The Sweet's Hell Raiser and there is little sign of darts walk-ons adapting to reflect the charts, let alone the new musical demands of the MP3 generation. There is no sense that anyone has downloaded their walk-on music, moments before appearing, according to his mood. And we have yet to see a darter play his own walk-on music, accompanying himself to the stage on guitar or, perhaps, on a home organ on wheels. Again, there is so much room for exploration and innovation here.

Meanwhile, though, a word of admiration for Michael Barnard. The former world youth champion fell in the first round, like One Dart, but not before appearing to the hair-raising thrash of London Calling by The Clash - which, as any darts fan of long-standing will tell you, was the walk-on music of Eric Bristow. Some would celebrate this as a formidable statement of intent by Barnard. Others would say that when the “Crafty Cockney” hung up his smock they should have retired his walk-on music. No faulting Barnard's chutzpah, though.

It's difficult for the young players, of course, when most of the best pieces of walk-on music have already been taken. Maybe it would be better if you got to inherit, should you so wish, the walk-on theme of the player that you defeated. One Dart would still be out, but at least Tony Christie would live to see another day. It's something for the authorities to consider.

Fellaini theory is less rounded

According to Steve Round, the Everton assistant manager, Marouane Fellaini, the club's tall, Afro-wearing striker, gets booked so often because he is “quite recognisable”. “I think referees maybe need to take a look at him and book him on merit, rather than because it's big Fellaini,” Round suggested.

This must be one of the most innovative theories yet devised to explain the mystery of a poor disciplinary record. The implication is that referees are apt to get the cards out not simply because a player has tripped someone up or knocked someone over, but in the way that schoolchildren pick on the kid who is “a bit different”.

And given that referees themselves often strike one as the kind of people who had an unfortunate time of it in the playground, one can certainly see how those experiences might play out as learned behaviour in later life. Accordingly, when Mike Riley reaches for the card to caution, say, Anton Ferdinand, we are seeing not just the simple workings of cause and effect, but rather the enactment of a complex narrative of vengeance, rooted deep in the official's past.

It's a promising piece of thinking altogether from Round, and one that the elite-list referees will no doubt be keen to explore on their next get-together at Staverton. In the meantime, players should probably concentrate on making themselves less recognisable. Otherwise the small and distinctively tattooed Craig Bellamy could soon find himself saddled with a reputation for indiscipline.

Celebrations on hold for virtual stars

We worry for football's future in a world where so many children are exposed to Pro Evolution Soccer 2009, the football game for PlayStations and Xboxes. It's not the fact that “diving” is listed among the “tricks and skills” options, just after the stepover and ahead of the drag-back. (It's L1+L2+R1 on your controller, if you want to try it.) What really has us shaking our heads in despair is the way the game offers 61 different programmable goal celebrations.

Yes, only 61. Talk about a crude reduction of this limitless form of human expression.