There may be plenty of drawbacks that come with being a freelance journalist (the lack of money, job security, sleep). But all of these are counterbalanced by one glorious thing - every January you get to watch the darts on TV while you're at home "working".
There are many sports I love watching, but nothing comes close to the darts in terms of pure televisual entertainment. And this year's BDO final may just have been the best yet. OK, so you might not immediately see the appeal in watching overweight men throw arrows at a board, but darts is about way more than the game.
In fact, it's genius theatre - a place where chain-smoking, bling-wearing, hollering hard drinkers get their moment in the spotlight (and that's just the wives). Darts is a fantasy world, a place where for a brief moment balding, overweight men called Ted can claim to be "The Count" and slightly seedy-looking blokes with dark-tinted glasses are referred to as "The Wolfman".
Virtually none of these men are in decent physical shape - darts is a celebration of the smoker, the drinker and the fast food eater. This year Andy Fordham (who weights 26st) was so unfit he collapsed and was rushed to hospital. At one point I swear one of the finalists told the commentator that he prepared for a match by ordering three takeaways the night before. But fitness is not the point. The PDC tournament on Sky One may be a more professional affair but the BDO championship has the real characters. After all, watching darts just for the sport is like going to see Babyshambles just for the music.
This year's final was a perfect example of why this tournament is vital viewing. First, there was the story. Martin Adams has been trying to win this tournament for 14 years without luck, whereas his opponent, Phil Nixon, was the ultimate underdog - he'd never even qualified for the tournament before. Then there was the agony of watching Nixon's face as he failed to trouble Adams at all during the opening sets. He looked close to tears as his wife squirmed in the seats. At the first break, Adams was six sets up, needing just one more for a whitewash. Bobby George, the lovable East End old-timer whose neck boasts more gold than Carl Lewis's, declared the match to be all over. All we could hope was that Nixon could steal a consolation set in order to save the blushes. This he did, to a standing ovation, then went on to surprise everyone by winning another. After pulling back two more sets the commentators had to consider the possibility of one of the most implausible sporting comebacks of all time. As Nixon levelled the game at six sets all, Adams' wife had to leave the Lakeside, her nerves shot to pieces. Thankfully, she was beckoned back in by friends to see her husband regain his composure at the last moment and take the final set for victory.
"If you've ever seen anything better, give me a ring and send me the DVD," frothed the commentators. Over on Channel 4, Teddy Sheringham's girlfriend was subjecting Shilpa Shetty to casual racism in the name of modern day entertainment. But this year's darts proved that good old-fashioned broadcasting can still provide magic moments.