Stephen Bunting calls death threats and social media abuse ‘very hurtful’ as he addresses Luke Littler’s rise

Definitely," Stephen Bunting says, reflecting on whether the relentless effort required as a darts player on social media feels like a deal with the devil. Following Luke Littler, the prodigious teenage world champion, Bunting is darts' most heavily marketed figure. Yet over the past year, his success on and off the oche has been accompanied by vicious abuse.

Bunting has received death threats, and he recently moved his eldest son Toby to a private school to end bullying that had hounded the 14-year-old, who often shares his social media space. Remaining amiable, Bunting reflects on his Faustian pact during a lucrative rollercoaster through darts.

On a quiet Thursday in St Helens, in a friendly bookshop, the conversation steers clear of "Bunting Mental," as one famous chant always promises. His walk-on song, Titanium, is briefly on pause as he considers the downside of fame.

"We found that out more from X. It's a very toxic platform, and it doesn't take long for one dart to go wrong before people say: 'I want my £50 back for my bet.' So we came off X. I'm still there as a presence but not messaging. Instagram and TikTok have been brilliant, and you very rarely see any toxicity there."

Promoting his new book, Bulletproof: From Pub to Palace, My Life in Darts, Bunting is trailed by Jack, a young man with a video camera. Asked if he's happy to be filmed for Bunting's YouTube channel, he declines politely, preferring to focus on the interview.

A consequence of relentless exposure is that Bunting is increasingly recognisable. "We did a book signing in Blackpool yesterday," the 41-year-old from Merseyside says. "By the time we got out of the car, three or four people were saying: 'It's Stephen Bunting. What are you doing here?' It was crazy. In New York, a policeman stopped me and said: 'Oh, you're the guy with the walk-on.' Not: 'You're the dart player.' With ESPN signing a five-year deal in America, and the sport growing in China and Japan, it's important to showcase darts worldwide—and I'd love to be part of that."

Life has changed radically. "I definitely get stopped quite a bit. When I go round the Trafford Centre with my family I've got 10 or 15 kids following me. The missus and the lads don't mind as long as we're not eating. If you're in a restaurant and people come over, it can be quite annoying. Apart from that, I embrace it all. It shows I'm doing something right, and yes, the socials are part of that. I do this for the fans as well as my family."

In today's online world, some fans are capricious and cruel. During last December's world championship, after winning his first-round match, Bunting was asked how he'd cope with opponent Nitin Kumar, who has a big fanbase. "I said: 'Well, I'm the people's champion,' as I've been called that by Sky, ITV and other channels—that was a tongue-in-cheek comment, but my socials blew up."

That vitriol darkened after beating Kumar, when he suffered a shock third-round defeat against then world No 63 James Hurrell. "We had death threats being inboxed," he says. "It was horrendous. Still to this day, we can't understand how it all came to that."

The online attacks also targeted his son, who resembles him. "It was very hurtful because people were saying so many nasty things about Toby. With me not doing so well he was also being bullied at school. So I ended up putting him in private school and he's flourishing now. But I'll never mention the people's champion again."

Bunting laughs ruefully but still believes in social media's power. "Toby takes things to heart but he's a lovely kid. When I was playing in Australia, people were saying: 'Oh, have you brought your son with you? We're big fans.' I don't think Toby realises how many fans he's got for doing YouTube stuff with me. I tell him to be more social on socials, but obviously we keep an eye on the comments, or turn them off."

Toby shows promise in darts, and Bunting says: "I would like him to become a professional but I won't push him. I'll be a mentor."

The threat of hostility remains. I ask how he'd cope if online abuse spills into the booing that often stalks Gerwyn Price. "There hasn't been too much hostility," Bunting replies, "but it's not nice. I remember a match years ago in the Premier League in Glasgow against Peter Wright. He was wearing a Scotland shirt and I ended up drawing the game six-all after I'd been 6-1 up. I've never heard anything like it. My chest was literally beating with the boos and it was horrendous. I just wanted to get off the stage."

Bunting feels confident that "everything has calmed down" since his people's champion comment and won't ease off on merchandising. "Most of my merchandise, like my darts and my shirt, is through Target. But we do little bits ourselves. Obviously I'll be selling the book on my website, and then I've got cups and T-shirts and these little plushies."

His manager, Mark Dean, notes that pre-orders are being used this year to avoid website crashes after items sold out in an hour last time.

Bunting is also launching a YouTube channel for his football card collection, with his son Toby involved. "I've got quite a big collection, and I think that channel will do well."

Amid a relentless playing schedule, Bunting is often away on the European Tour. He spent the past two weekends in Budapest and Prague, but it's endearing that, when he can, the world No 10 still plays local league darts on Tuesday nights. "I've not played a league game for at least a month-and-a-half," Bunting concedes, "because at the end of the Premier League I've been so busy with the book, exhibitions and other commitments."

The lowest moment of Bunting's darts career happened in humble local league surroundings. "I was so bereft of form and confidence that I lost 3-0 against an amateur. It was five and a half years ago. I remember being in the pub and when I get nervous I get really cold hands. This particular night my hands were freezing. I couldn't hit nothing and as soon as it was over I rang my manager and said: 'If I don't get help I'm going to walk away from the sport.'"

Bunting writes that, in despair, he would return from an event and: "I'd head straight up to my bedroom. I'd get into bed and lock the door. I felt completely useless. I was in my own dark world."

He also racked up £90,000 in gambling debts. "It was crazy. I was playing these online fruit machines and obviously you don't realise what you're doing. It's only £1 a spin—but there were a lot of £1 spins. When his partner Keila received the bank statement I thought: 'Oh no!' But I didn't realise how bad it was until she showed me. I was devastated. I've never, ever done that again."

Bunting had plummeted to the point "where I seriously considered giving up darts and getting a proper job". He says: "I was on the internet and looking in job centres. I could work in retail or go and work back at the council. I couldn't cope any more."

During his previous job at the council in his early 20s, he distributed incontinence pads to care homes. "I jokingly said it was a shit job but it was good. I was surrounded by nice people."

Five years ago a sports psychologist and a hypnotherapist helped rebuild Bunting's shattered confidence, and slowly he began to play well again. He still uses hypnotherapy—"sometimes twice a week if I'm going into a big tournament, or if things have not gone my way".

Life is very different now, but those past experiences help to ground him. He also pays tribute to his best friend, Drew, who works in a morgue. "He's been a real support but I don't think I could do what he does. Being around dead people is not my idea of fun."

Do they talk much about Drew's work? "Very rarely. He'll just say how cold it is in the room or how many dead people are in it."

Littler is another good friend, and with Michael Owen they own a racehorse named Bunting Mental. It's yet to make its debut, but the name prompts a question: is he sick of his walk-on routine to Titanium, the ubiquitous song by Sia and David Guetta?

"I hear it at least 20 times a day because it's my ringtone and my alarm. So it goes off a lot when I snooze in the morning. But it's still one of my favourite songs. Sometimes, when you're at the darts and you feel a bit flat, as soon as that music hits you're straight up for the match. You get on stage, do your orchestrating and the crowd sing it back to you. There's no better feeling in darts."

Will he always walk out with Titanium booming around him? "Oh, 100%."

But, as Bunting admits: "Darts is getting harder now. The calibre of play is better every year. You've got young kids coming through these academies, averaging 100 already and they're only 15. We're going to see a wave of Luke Littlers and it's going to be challenging."

Bunting still feels hopeful that he can play elite-level darts for another 10 years. "People don't want to just watch a load of robots with their back to the board. Obviously, everyone wants to see the big scores but it's really important to have a bit of character and personality about you. I think that's definitely why, over the last few years, I've gained so many fans."