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In 1987 I got dartitis, a psychological condition which means you can't let your darts go properly. For a time, I wondered what the hell I was going to do if I didn't recover. But I remained positive and, thankfully, got over it. It occurred during the Swedish Open when I found I couldn't let the darts go.

Ever since I've been 16, 15, that's all I've been doing: playing darts.

Hopefully I've given something back to darts, which has been brilliant to me. Hopefully I made it a bit popular when I first started; I was part of the breakaway, and I also created a monster, so I think I've done a little bit.

Quite frankly, I'm tired of taking insulin and pumping my stomach every three days and pricking my finger and drawing blood out of it every day - it's a tedious, meticulous, annoying disease that never goes away. And I want to get rid of it like everybody else does.

I used to go away for weeks in a state of confusion.

I was born at the right time. I was a freak - the only young player when darts took off in the 1970s.

I'm just the same as anybody else now. To get TB again, I'd have to go out and catch a whole new case of it. Let's forget about it. I'm a ballplayer.

Something went wrong with my right arm. I no longer could throw hard, and it hurt like the dickens every time I threw.

I played a lot of other sports at school and just one day the golf bug bit me and I started playing serious golf from when I was ten years old.