Fractured Thoughts

IT’S A BUTT TRICK NIGHT

Last night I played darts. I’m a sub for a friends team at a local sports bar. Every couple of weeks I get a call to fill in for someone. What do I know about darts? Absolutely nothing. I’m bad. Really. While the rest of the team is yelling, “go for a triple 3″ I’m practically closing my eyes and praying I hit the board…anywhere on the board. I had no idea people took this game so seriously. Some of them spend hours practicing and actually follow tournaments across the state.

When I was first asked to play I watched a couple of teams compete before I gave them my answer. At first I said no. Hey, I didn’t want anyone yelling at me. And yes, these guys get depressed when they lose. But they talked me into it and so every other week night or so I’m off to dart league. Since playing darts I’ve added several new phrases to my vocabulary. Anybody care to define “butt trick?” Me either.

I don’t know about other small towns, but this dart competition is serious stuff here. And the five bars hosting the leagues (yes, five bars in this small town of 3,000 people…no make that seven bars) have standing room only on dart night. People that don’t play darts jam the bars just to watch the boisterous antics of some of the players. Most players are there for fun and an evening out, but you also have the die hard competitors that question every throw and end the evening yelling and arguing about stats and unfair throws. Tempers flare, games are forfeited and rescheduled. I have to admit it can be entertaining. I haven’t seen anyone go to blows yet, but I’m thinking it’s just a matter of time.