Russ Bray has seen it all in darts. From on-stage bust-ups to magical nine-darters, his unmistakable raspy tone has been the accompaniment to the sport's most iconic moments since the PDC's formation and the sport's TV boom.

Throughout his legendary career, Russ grew close to the game's biggest names and one of his closest friends became the late Eric Bristow. And in his new book 'All About Darts - The Ultimate Guide to the World's Greatest Sport', Russ reveals how Bristow's Crafty Cockney surname was not just a gimmick.

I loved Eric, and I got really close to him. First of all, though, same as everybody else, I was overawed by him.

Shortly after I met him in Big Cliff Lazarenko’s hotel room in Denmark in 1990, I bumped into him again when we were both playing at the Canadian Open.

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I was sharing a room with a good Scottish thrower called Jamie Harvey, who went as ‘Bravedart’, and Eric was in the next room with Mike Gregory. They had a load of beers stacked up in their room, so we were going back and forth to help them drink them (we were good like that).

It was the first time I’d talked to Eric properly. And he asked me a question. ‘Do you play pool?’

‘A little bit,’ I told him. ‘I’m not the best.’

‘Come on, let’s go and have a game,’ he said. ‘Just me and you.’ Well, like I say, I was in awe. Bloody hell. Eric Bristow wants to play pool … with me?

We headed off down the street and found a pool hall. I can remember the tables were blue, not green: it was the first time I’d ever seen that. Eric went straight over to two local guys who were having a game. They looked pretty good. ‘Hello, lads,’ Eric said. ‘Want to play?’

‘Yeah,’ one of them answered. ‘Twenty-five dollars a corner.'

‘Great,’ said Eric, slapping down a bill. And I thought: Gulp. I was not flush in those days. I was still a scaffolder and driver who could barely afford to enter tournaments.

In fact, my mum and dad had bought my flight to Canada, and I’d paid the entry fee. I barely had $25 on me. ‘I’m not sure about this,’ I said to Eric. He grinned. ‘No worries, Russ. I’ve got it covered.’

We played the game and lost. Eric didn’t look much cop. Uh-oh. The Canadians wanted to go again. I didn’t. But Eric banged his money down … and then he got going.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Balls were flying into every pocket. Christ, could he play pool. He was a total hustler. Losing the first game had been a scam. I walked – well, floated – out of that pool hall $400 up. It invigorated me.

I threw some good darts in the Canadian Open. I even got to the last eight and led the number two, Peter Evison, 2–0 before losing 3–2. I’d gone to Canada with $100 and flew back with $2,000. Fantastic. And on the plane home, Eric dropped another bombshell.

‘Are you doing the Norwegian Open next week, Russ?’ he asked me. ‘No, I’m not.’

‘You are now. Come out, and I’ll play pairs with you.’

Well, it was another of those Wow moments. Playing pairs with Eric Bristow. We went out to Norway, roomed together (credit where it’s due: Eric was a very clean and tidy roommate) and we won the Open pairs.

As I’ve said, I never had any illusions I was one of the top, top players, but that was a real career highlight for me.

All About Darts: The Ultimate Guide to the World’s Greatest Sport by Russ Bray (Ebury Spotlight, £16.99) is out now.