Column #682 Howie Reed – The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met

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Thursday, April 10, 2025
Column 682
Howie Reed – The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met 

This may be the most difficult column I’ve ever written…

The crazy thing is that the “plan” was not for me to write it.  Over the years, Howie and I often discussed this effort and reached the conclusion that no one could do justice to Howie’s life better than Howie himself.  Sadly, it didn’t work out.

Howie did make a start – and it was pure Howie.  Time just ran out before he could finish…

“Very seldom is a person allowed to write their own obituary. I was asked to do so before I took a dirt nap. Howard Hartwell Reed II was born Monday October 3, 1938, in San Diego’s Mercy Hospital at 8:24 a.m. with Dr. Holder doing the honors. She was also responsible for my circumcision a few hours later, which I answered with a stream of yellow fluid.”

(Perhaps the above contains a bit more information than anyone needs to know but, knowing Howie as so many do, it’s not surprising that even as a newborn he managed to get a woman to touch his willy!)

On April 10, 2025, at 3:30 p.m. Houston Hartwell “Howie” Reed II, aka Mr. Wonderful aka the Old Dart Coach, joined old friends Eric Bristow MBE, Stacy Bromberg, David Brook, Phil Jones, Dave Kelly, Rick Ney, Bill Nicoll Sr., Leighton Rees, Jocky Wilson and so many others at the great dart hall in the sky.  As you read these words, he’s no doubt sipping a Miller Genuine and calling someone an asshole.

As anyone who knew Howie can testify, he was intensely patriotic, didn’t drink or ogle the ladies and never – not ever – used a bad, bad word.  Well, he did once – the day we met at an old North American Open…

For years, I’d read Howie’s writing in Bulls Eye News.  Jay Tomlinson pointed him out to me, and I walked across the hall to introduce myself. Howie was talking to someone and I politely interrupted, extended my hand and began, “Don’t let me interrupt… I’ve read you for years and just want to say…”

Howie cut me off immediately.  “You are interrupting, asshole. Fuck off. Go away.”

And that was the end of that… and, somehow, the beginning of a 25-year friendship.

Yep, that was the endearing Howie Reed – a one-of-a-kind crusty, charming, colorful, curmudgeonly, teddy bear of a character – a loyal friend to anybody that appreciated straight talk (except perhaps the current and all former presidents of the American Darts Organization).  He had a gargantuan gift for gab. He was the wizard of wit. He had a humongous sense of humor.

Howie wore a Hawaiian shirt better than Wayne Mardle. He had a steel trap memory – his recall of literary quotes and music verses was second only to Sid Waddell. He loved Rod Stewart.  He was an unabashed supporter of Donald Trump and ardent opponent of biological males competing against women in sports. He was a man’s man – always ready to debate politics, talk sports of any kind and commiserate about the fairer sex.  He advised me on a college football pool. Last year we won.  This year we should have, but Oregon screwed us.

Howie and I collaborated often – I edited some 450 of his darts columns and a couple hundred boxing columns. I edited his book “One Night, While Out Drinking with the Fat Swede,” created the cover and got it published.  Not a bad record of writing for a guy who couldn’t spell and flunked English in college – twice.

I helped with his first Stacy Bromberg Senior Open. We traveled a bit – to Thailand. And when necessary (this was difficult), I fielded calls from the likes of Jennifer Aniston when Howie was preoccupied with Halle Berry and others.  I am pretty sure Howie had a thing for Julia Louis-Dreyfus but never acted on it because she was a liberal.  The same goes for Hillary Clinton. “I have no eye-dear why you would write that,” I can hear Howie saying. “Shirley, you jest.”

On one visit to Thailand, after a night out with Stefan Lord, we were having breakfast at a table outside Howie’s hotel.  A couple of tables over a group of 5-6 guys were talking loudly, very loudly, and Howie was pissed.  He walked over and up to the largest of the guys and said, “What the fuck – we’re trying to have a quiet conversation over there.”  The guy looked up at Howie, mystified.  Howie continued, “I should beat your ass, and I would if I wasn’t old and fat.”  That was Howie – and in a moment and for hours we shot the shit with newfound friends.

Howie lived an incredible life. Without question he is recognized as one of the most knowledgeable, prolific and widely followed commentators the world of darts has ever known.  He was also one of the world’s best known and most read purveyors of pugilistic phraseology.

A former TV/advertising executive, professional cowboy (steer wrestler and bull rider), Howie first picked up a dart in 1976.  The dart world was never the same. In 1978, he began writing about the sport for the Northern California Darts Association.  In the early 1980’s his column, “Howie’s World” (then “Toeing the Oche”) became a staple in Bulls Eye News.  He did a stint with Darts World in the UK and the Challenge of Champions on ESPN-TV with Chris Berman.  Also, during the 1980’s Howie captained the American Pacific Cup team, the Singapore team at the Asian Cup, assisted Canada at the Pacific Cup in Melbourne and ran the Canadian National Dart Championship for several years running.  He produced the Pacific Cup in 1994 in Vancouver.  In 1990, Howie (as the Lord of the Manor) began to write about boxing – first for Ring Sports, then the Pattaya Mail (1992 – 2008) and the Pattaya Times (2009 – 2010).

Along the way Howie worked in an oil refinery, dealt casino games, tended bar, owned a bar and card room, was a rodeo cowboy (“wrestled steers, rode or tried to ride a few bulls”), announced rodeos, produced rodeos, produced a syndicated radio show on rodeos, started a company that licensed gear for professional cowboys, manufactured boxing gloves in Thailand for import to the USA, judged world championship boxing matches in Hong Kong and was a ring announcer for amateur boxing in northern Nevada.  In college he played football and baseball (hitting .346!). He also competed at a high level in high school athletics but admitted spending “most of my time in detention.”

For many years, Reader’s Digest was the best-selling consumer magazine in the United Staes and for almost 30 years the most popular series in the magazine was called “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met.”  All of these stories had one thing in common: “…somehow, each of the characters featured struck home in the memory of the storyteller. These characters enriched lives through humor, wisdom, adventure and affection, each possessing a unique regard for humanity, each a gem reflecting its own light.”

Howie’s long-time friend, the late Davd Brook, once asked Howie how he would wish others to remember him, and he replied, “He made me laugh, was always true to his friends and he exceeded his limited abilities.”  Mission accomplished.

Yes, indeed, Howie is the most unforgettable character I have ever met.  I have no doubt that many would say the same, much like several of Howie’s friends who so fondly remember him below.

Rest in peace, my friend.

Dartoid

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Ron Beach – I met Howie in 1979, my first year of darts. We hit it off immediately. Traveling back and forth from the Bay Area up to Portland, Oregon, he never failed to get a speeding ticket as we would be going through Yreka, California. I remember the officer had him outside of the car talking when he noticed a sticker on the car mentioning darts. He told Howie that his brother played darts. Well, being the diplomat that only Howie could be, he said, “I don’t really give a fuck about that. I have to piss. Don’t suppose I could stand over here and relieve myself, could I?” We could have gotten out of that one, but instead the officer proceeded to write him a ticket. I laughed so hard. Leave it to Howie. But that was Howie. He truly is my brother from another mother. For 46 years, he has remained my close friend. No other like him. 

Frances “Frankie” Britton – The day I met Howie was June 10, 2007. I recall the exact date, as it was my daughter’s 14th birthday – she had a sleepover, and her friends decided they wanted pizza. So, I drove to a local bar that had a great pizza kitchen. As I sat chatting with the bartender, who I knew, about another bar that I was working at, an old crab ass yelled across the room, “You work at that dump?”  I worked at an older bar a little further north from where we were. So, me being a hot-tempered redhead, told him a few things about that “dump” and invited him to the bar the next night for a benefit for a coworker that had taken ill and was unable to work. Well, Mr. Wonderful showed up in all his glory, wearing the loudest suit jacket I had ever seen. He drank cheap Bud draft and smoked a stinky cheap cigar.  He brought with him Young Tommy and another friend and by the time the night was over he had made a few friends, donated to the cause and promised me I would see him again. Howie then followed me from bar to bar, and almost every Tuesday for close to 5 years he brought me Popeyes chicken so we could have lunch together. It took many years for me to be able to even smell Popeyes let alone eat it again. These past few weeks sitting with Howie in the hospital I will treasure for the rest of my life. He always loved me and my “little darlings” (my daughters who he adored even when I didn’t). When I moved to Florida in 2017, I was so afraid I would never see him again as he was not getting any younger, but I came back to Las Vegas often and every time I did, I would let Howie know, and we would meet for dinner or drinks with friends. He came to my eldest daughter’s wedding during Covid and was such a hit – he made a few more friends, but that is Howie. He was a friend or a pain in the ass to all who met him. They don’t make them like Howie anymore, and I am forever grateful that our paths crossed so many years ago and that this was all God’s plan to make sure Howie was not alone and had someone to be his voice when he could no longer speak. 

Larry Butler – I didn’t know Howie as well as many others as I started traveling to tournaments just after he stopped.  I did enjoy reading his commentaries.  He was certainly very talented.  The biggest single event that stands out in my memory of Howie (and when I learned how brilliant he was) was when he gave the eulogy for Bill Nicole Sr. I was close with Bill and appreciated it a lot. 

Pat and Rose Carrigan – We never got a chance to meet during the Golden Years of darts as Howie called it.  I only started playing in 1994 and Rose moved over from England shortly after that.  I remember seeing Howie at the last couple North Americans at the Sahara. Who could miss him with the hat and those shirts?  Howie was dart fashion long before the generic dress codes came along.  We got to know each other a bit when the PDC started coming to Las Vegas. The PDC – Dick Allix or Tommy Cox – would always send Howie over to see me to get whatever he needed. I was the American go-between since I was producing for the CDC.  Over the years we had more chances to meet, mostly through Stacy Bromberg or Dartoid, and it was always entertaining.  Never short on opinions of the world of darts, or the individuals running the darts, Howie was a refreshing voice because he didn’t hold back. People may not have always agreed with Howie’s opinions, but he never forced them on anybody.  Howie may have been the only person I have known with 3 phones. I’d call one, get no answer and then he’d call me back and ask me to call him back on another one. I asked why one time – Howie’s response, “I’m in hiding.”  Near the unfortunate end of Stacy’s Bromberg’s life, Howie and I became closer.  Stacy was always helping Make-A-Wish and Howie was there for support and donations, and I got to deal with everything else except her trips to Easter Island and Machu Pichu with Dartoid.  Upon her passing, you set up the old timer darter shoots with us at CD’s and although we didn’t get many entries, the donations and good times were shared like a good pint of lager. Thank you, Howie, for your friendship, albeit later in life and keep up the good fight wherever that may be.

Neil Dickson – I spoke to Howie during this difficult time, and it was a great pleasure… and I also spoke with those who were at his home/bedside and was pleased to lean that his spirits were high. I extend my love and gratitude to those who cared for him… and to those many who ventured to visit and phone him.  Howie was certainly one-of-a-kind, and the opinions expressed in his articles are for the ages… some were hysterical, while others were serious commentary – to the point, sparing no quarter – yet offered a well-constructed and written statement on our beloved sport. And his references to sports figures from boxing, football, baseball and more as examples and entertainment for his huge readership were a testament to his love of all sports, not only darts. RIP, Howie mate.

Linda Duffy – “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met” is such an appropriate title for Howie.  We first met on my inaugural trip to California for the LA Open, NAODT and the Golden Gate Classic near Howie’s hometown at the time of Vallejo. Howie was unmissable – he was wearing white jeans, pointed-toe cowboy boots, a very colorful (cherry red) jacket (maybe the 49ers) and a massive cowboy hat. From that day on I thought this was how real men dressed! We became firm, close friends.  I stayed as a guest at his house, and he spent Christmas’s at mine. He also let me “crash” his truck one day – I bet he still remembers.  Almost 50 years later we are still in touch. Howie (or Coach as I prefer to refer to him) and I are firm, long-time friends. He surely is “The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met.” 

Bobby George – On a trip to Canada, I played Bob Sinnaeve in a big show. Howie was the caller on the night. I scored and asked what was left.  Howie said 87. I said check.  Howie said 85. I said check. Howie said 80 and let’s call it quits!  I roared with laughter and won the game!  I knew what was left and that it was all just a wind up but didn’t expect Howie’s quick wit.

Catherine Haycock – I met Howie back in 1993 at the Canadian Open in St. John’s Newfoundland, Canada. The event was in an arena and full of laybacked Canadian darts players. Once the stage play started Howie appeared on stage in a dazzling hot pink tuxedo as the Master of Ceremonies – I will never forget that day! Howie then did the entire production for the Pacific Cup in Vancouver later that year and what a production it was! I was honored to be a part of that as the official caller. One unforgettable moment for me was at the Canadian Open in Toronto. TSN (Canada’s equivalent to ESPN) was there providing TV coverage and Howie was there managing the whole production. I am proud to share that Howie was instrumental in making this happen: the women’s staged singles was an entire crew of women. I was the official caller, we had women chalkers, women scorekeeping, etc. It was history making! That’s what Howie did best. He poured his passion into everything. As I got to know Howie over the years he became like a father figure to me. Many laughs and good times… Howie, as always, there if I needed him.  As Howie moves onto the next stage of his life I will miss him greatly. The outpouring of love and support worldwide has been incredible for this man. One last THANK YOU to Frances “Frankie” (Britton) and Linda (Endo Medved) who cared for Howie night and day to help him move through this journey. You ladies are angels! Thank you for taking care of our good friend Howie, God Bless you both.

Deta Hedman – Memories of Howie! Mainly for me was around the Winmau World Masters – it’s safe to say Howie was no shrinking wallflower, larger than life with a great passion for darts. I didn’t always agree with Howie as life would be boring if we agreed all the time but his honesty and passion for darts was second to none. I will always have fond memories of Howie, a true man of darts and life.

Julie Nicoll Jennings – Howie was a good friend to me and my family for many years. He spent time at our home in Dayton, Ohio, and at my mom and dad’s Dart Board Shoppe. He played on our league dart team, and it was always a barrel of laughs. One of the sweetest things he did for me was in 1995, the first year I attended the World Masters – when I got to my room, he had sent me a bouquet of pink roses and a beautiful note wishing me “Best of Luck.”  Another memory… Howie invited me to see Siegfried and Roy. I got all dressed up in my little black dress and high heels. Howie picked me up dressed in his blue tux jacket, black slacks, and Mickey Mouse tie. As we were walking through to the show, people were stopping us and pushing me to the side to take pictures with Howie. They thought he was a famous person, little did they know! It was a wonderful show and a beautiful evening. 

Anne Kramer – The first time I had the pleasure of meeting Howie Reed was back in 1985. I had just recently moved in with Mr. Kramer at the house in Laguna Beach. JK’s mixed doubles partner had mentioned an all-ladies tournament that was being held in Northern California and asked if I wanted to drive up there with the crew of ladies packed into a van. Well, of course I did. What an adventure! We drove all evening and well into the early hours. When we arrived, I found out we were all staying at Howie’s house. I was so tired that I just wanted to sleep. They put me out in the guest house to sleep and the rest of them went on to party all night in the house. I was 19 and didn’t drink, so this was fine to me. Back then, I could sleep and sleep and sleep.  Well, when it came time for all of us to go to the tournament, they did a head count and realized I was missing and still sleeping in the guest house. Ever since then, I have been known as the Sleepy one. Every year after that, we would receive a Christmas card from Howie addressed to JK and Sleepy. That was how my old nickname and screen name of Sleepy Kramer was born. And Howie has been a part of our lives ever since.  

Russ Lopez – I first was introduced to Houston Hartwell Reed in 1985 at a Southern California dart tournament. We shook hands and made exchanges of who we were and what we were doing. As for me, I mentioned I was in the military and stationed at Vandenberg AFB near Santa Maria, California. Howie told me he wrote stories for Bulls Eye News and was from Martinez, California. I will never forget what Howie was wearing – a pink and yellow flowered Hawaiian shirt. Very elegant – it was a very loud colorful shirt. I was new to the dart scene – I had only been playing for maybe 6 months. I watched Howie talk to all the good dart players and was amazed at how he seemed to really know everyone! As he walked up to the different players, he would say something funny or jokingly about that person, male or female.  As time went on, tournament after tournament, we became good friends, Best pals. He gave me a nickname, started calling me Slopes – I don’t know why, h-aha, but he did. Once he sent me a postcard from Thailand – it was a picture of a big rock, and the shape was like a penis and two testicles, ha-ha. I also remember another dart tournament in Reno, Nevada – Howie called me up and asked if I was coming to the tournament. I said yes. And Howie says, “You can stay with me, and we can drive over to the tournament together.  I said that sounded great.  So, I got to Howie’s house in Reno, a 3-story house with really nice windows everywhere and stairs going up and down to the different levels. Howie was doing some remodeling, walls in the basement room of the house, so he proceeded to ask me if I would mind taking some 4’ x 8’ sheets of sheetrock down to the basement. “I am having it redone.” I said for sure, of course. Wow, I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into but ended up getting most of the sheets down to the basement room. What a chore! Needless to say, I never again accepted an invitation to stay at Howie’s casa again. I always stayed at a hotel where the dart tournament was being held. A lesson learned LOL. Howie has always been a good friend of mine. We have laughed and drank together in Chicago to the World Cup in the Netherlands, where Howie, John Lowe and I ate breakfast together. I chuckled the whole time eating breakfast. Such a treat. Howie’s my best dear friend.  It’s sad as we get older and our health starts to deteriorate, but Howie and I will always have the memories. I love my dear friend! God bless you!

Stefan Lord – Howie and I were best of friends. Pattaya, Thailand, was a second home for both of us. No doubt most people will have a crystal clear memory of when they first met Howie. It’s not that I don’t – I have so many memories of the great times, the drinks, the laughs, the arguments that we shared. I could write for ages. What comes to mind most immediately though is a memory of one of the last times we were together. We were on a baht bus going from somewhere to somewhere (I don’t remember from where or to where – probably another bar – but we never got there). An argument ensued – again about what I don’t recall. But in the moment it occured one of us called the other an asshole – and Howie leapt out of the vehicle and disappeared into the night.  But all was forgotten as quickly as it happened and at breakfast in the morning we were back to being the best of friends. That was Howie – he had as many opinions as he did flowered shirts but he never dwelled on a disagreement. He was a good guy, a friend to everybody and would do anything he could to help anybody. There has never been anyone quite like Howie Reed and never will be.  I miss him.

John Lowe MBE – “Fancy meeting you here.” Those words are used so many times, none more so than when Houston Hartwell Reed, better known to thousands as Howie Reed, and I met up, as we did many times around the globe, too many to list. Whenever we met, we engaged in timeless chat – but our love of darts was always number one. Our lifetime passion for the sport of boxing was not far behind. I will always thank Howie for introducing me to Joe Frazier, Leon Spinks and many more champions in Las Vegas. Howe’s knowledge of pugilism was second to none – even though we may not have agreed all the time who was best, he would always say, “Mr. Lowe, you are right, but maybe wrong.”  My friendship with Howie spanned over five decades.  He would often message me asking for my thoughts on the sport of darts and the people involved.  He had an honest approach, meticulous in its research when writing his many articles.  In short, Howie was “one of a kind,” – probably The Most Unforgettable Character I Ever Met. It was a pleasure sharing a part of Howie’s life – one can honestly say it was enlightening.  RIP my friend. 

David Miller – Howie “the Coach” Reed was my friend, a true and loyal friend. I first met him in 1976 when we went to the Golden Gate Classic.  I was traveling with Linda Batten (now Duffy) and some of the other players from England. Howie regaled us with hilarious stories from his days on the rodeo circuit and his exploits in college at OSU and San Jose State. Within the darts community Howie was well known around the world – as well known as any world champion, in the early days or since.  But what struck me most and what I appreciated most, back then and now as I think back, is that Howie found time for me.  We had countless good times and so many hearty laughs – right up until the end.  I am heartbroken and I will dearly miss our weekly chats.  Stay thirsty, Coach – I’ll forever be one of your biggest fans. 

Doit and Julia Miller – When you walked into a room, Howie’s presence was unmistakable. His bright personality and bold Hawaiian shirts made him impossible to miss. He effortlessly drew people to him, surrounded by a crowd of friends who adored him. As the MC for the Roadrunner Finals, Howie’s passion for darts and the players shone through. His love for the game was only matched by his love for the people around him. Now, he’ll be watching over us all as a guardian angel, his spirit as vibrant as ever. 

Ed Oliver – I first met Howie was in 1985 at the WDF World Cup in Australia. Howie was managing the American team at the World Cup in which the USA men’s team beat the England team. This was a shock to the dart world, an unheard whitewash! Howie went ballistic in happiness. I will never forget that time! In New York, at the Penta Hotel event by Jay Tomlinson – exhibition – John Lowe vs. Eric Bristow for $10,000 – Howie was John Lowes’ buddy, and I was Eric Bristow’s buddy. We each had such respect for both players, and we did not let any controversary get between us. Howie did the color commentary for ESPN. He was quite the showman with his flashy outfits and his bow ties. You could not miss him! I got to know Howie further through various darting events and we became like brothers. Over the years we had our spats, but the love was always there. I was fortunate to travel the world and no matter what country I went to people asked me if I knew Howie. Everyone knew Howie! When I needed Howie the most, he was there for me. His undying dedication is second to none. We were very close, and I loved him dearly. He will be truly missed, and he will never be forgotten.

John Part – A man whose passion for a game, and larger than that, for an age of purity in that game, was a living beacon for all things wonderful and inspiring about that game. While the game evolved, or didn’t, his sense of honoring those who came before at the same time as those who followed, exemplified his fierce loyalty to the ideals of friendship, kinship and community that for many who play, organize or just watch, make the game so worthwhile an endeavor. He couldn’t throw straight. He often lost count, especially while drinking. He was the original eyesore in the world of darts rooms. All very endearing qualities but all combined could not equal his sense of humor. It could be self-depreciating, or wickedly pointed, but it was ever-present. His gift to our world of darts. He slipped much wisdom and opinion into his writing and conversation, but his need to smile and create smiles ruled above all. He was a man who cannot be replaced. A defender of the faith, whether you agreed with him or not. His passion now lives in all of us that knew him, and we carry that joyful burden forward for him. Honor the history, honor your friends and peers, and always question the next step, yours and theirs. Stay thirsty, Howie. 

Jessie Nicoll Sullivan – Mr. Wonderful, as we fondly called Howie, brought a sparkle of wit, charm, and a bit of magic into our lives. I knew Howie my whole life – and honestly, I have so many stories, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. He wasn’t just a friend; he was my family. He was a seasoned soul who carried mischief in his smile, wisdom in his words and warmth in every story he shared. He was the light and laughter wherever he went. Darts were more than a game for Howie; they were a way of life, a chosen family. He poured his heart into every throw, every tournament, and every person he met along the way. His passion made even us “young pups” feel seen, valued and capable of more. His legacy isn’t just in the game – it’s in the way he believed in us, cheered for us, and made sure we laughed a little louder, loved a little bigger and never took ourselves too seriously. Thank you, Howie, for teaching me that a well-lived life is one filled with adventure, connection and the courage to believe in each other’s magic. 

Jay Tomlinson – Howie Reed and I were, at best, colleagues who loved the sport of darts, loved the players competing in tournaments, and respected each other for what we both did to advance the sport in our own ways. Our paths crossed a few times, but we walked the same path most of the time on our journey. Howie came to my attention early on in my career as a darts promoter and publisher of a darts magazine called Bull’s-Eye News. He was a gifted writer, able to tell it like it was, whether the written words were favorable or hurtful, but always with the ring of truth.  His pen name, The Old Dart Coach, implied he knew more about the sport of darts than the players who played the game.  I think that was true.  He is – was – a true character of the global darting world. He reminded me of Howard Cosell, and perhaps, Howie styled himself a little like Cosell because he had the same namesake. Howie helped Bull’s-Eye Marketing, Inc. MC the famous exhibition matches in Columbus, Ohio, between Rick Ney and Tony Payne back in the later 80’s.  Howie joined our television crew as the color person working alongside ESPN’s Chris Berman at the first event televised Lucky Strike Filters Challenge of Champions held at the New York Penta in New York City across the street from Madison Square Gardens.  I think that invitation solidified our friendship for life. Howie and I were – are – both members of the Royal Hawaiian Allstar Darting Team (RHADT), formerly known as the Royal Hawaiian Allstar Drinking Team. The name was later officially changed for political correctness reasons much to the chagrin of Howie, I’m sure. The first Citizens Watch Royal Hawaiian Dart Tournament was first held in 1984 and Howie and I were there 41 years ago when the RHADT was later founded.  You could always find Howie in any tournament hall wearing his brightly colored Hawaiian shirts or his RHADT embroidered shirt at a table surrounded by his many friends.  He is – was – a true supporter of the sport of darts.  He will be truly missed.

Jerry and Gloria Umberger – I remember once at the Royal Hawaiian a nice-looking lady told me she would like to go out with Howie, and I introduced them. Howie told her he wouldn’t go out with anybody that would go out with him. That was pretty funny. Howie was our coach for the World Cup, I believe it was Australia, and I called him “Coach” and that nickname stuck from then on. Another thing I remember… Howie bought a shirt with flowers on it in Australia. Howie, Gloria and I were walking downtown when a guy passed us walking the other way said something to Howie – and Howie responded with “fuck you.” I asked him what the guy said, and Howie said he asked, “How about a date, mate?” I had a big laugh at that. At another Royal Hawaiian somebody told me they were going to get me up on stage to do the Hula. I hid in the men’s room so they couldn’t do it, but they got a replacement – it was Howie, and he was amazing on stage.  There are thousands of stories about Howie, and they are all hilarious.  RIP, Coach.