You’ll Never Believe What Fallon Sherrock’s Parents Did Behind The Scenes — The Hidden Sacrifices That Made A Darts Legend
From Pub Nights to Worldwide Fame — How One Family’s Sacrifice Forged a Champion
It started in a modest home in Milton Keynes, where darts weren’t just a game — they were a family tradition. Before the glare of arena lights, before the roar of fans, and long before becoming a global sensation, Fallon Sherrock was just a kid watching her parents, Steve Sherrock and Sue Sherrock, throw darts in county-level clubs. Sky Sports+2ESPN.com+2
Steve fixed wires and lights as an electrician, and Sue worked as a cashier — everyday jobs that didn’t hint at the darts heritage that lived inside their home. ESPN.com+1 But it was their shared passion for darts that quietly shaped Fallon’s childhood. Week after week, in local clubs, community halls, and smoky pubs, the Sherrock household nurtured a love for the sport.
Fallon didn’t grab a professional dart until she was 16 — but by then, the foundation was already laid. She and her twin sister, Felicia Sherrock, threw arrows alongside their parents, mimicking their style, learning the rhythm, building muscle memory. This wasn’t a weekend hobby. It was a family ritual. ESPN.com+1
But life had other plans. At 20, Fallon became a mother — giving birth to her son, Rory Sherrock. Soon after, she was diagnosed with a serious kidney disease. Medication caused painful side-effects, even swelling in her face. It was a cruel twist: the same body that had thrown thousands of darts, built endurance and aim, now betrayed her. Sky Sports+2Sky Sports+2
And yet — through sleepless nights, hospital visits, and endless doses of pain and doubt — the quiet encouragement of her family remained unwavering. Her parents watched, her sister cheered; the same small hands that once threw playful arrows now reached for hope.
When Fallon finally stepped onto the grand stage of the PDC World Darts Championship — becoming the first woman ever to beat a man at that level — it wasn’t just a personal victory. It was the culmination of years of family sacrifice. The countless Friday nights her parents spent in pubs instead of relaxing at home. The twin-sister rivalry that pushed Fallon to perfect her game. The strength it took to raise a child while battling illness. It wasn’t overnight magic. It was a lifetime of grit, love, and uncelebrated work.
Today, she stands as a symbol of thousand silent supporters — the parents teaching their kids in dusty halls, the sisters picking up darts after school, the mums balancing work, childcare and darts practice. Fallon’s trophies and headlines aren’t just hers — they’re theirs.
Her story reminds us: greatness often has humble origins. And behind every superstar, there might be a kitchen-table conversation, a midnight practice, a parent quietly cheering — building more than skill. Building destiny.
