darting about

— January 25 —

Well, I promised you a darts story, I’ve got one.

I’ve played darts a total of four times in my adult life, including today. (As a kid, we had one of those cork dartboards in our basement that was shaped like a baseball diamond. I never understood that game then, I doubt I’d understand it now. I think I threw a few darts at the corkboard once or twice, but nothing I even remember.) Each time I’ve played in the past year, I was a sub for someone who couldn’t make it. Basically, I was the difference between the team getting to play and having to take a forfeiture. But each time I’d play, my contribution to the team was appreciated. Last time I played, with brand new darts of my very own, after two games learning curve I started doing VERY well, and won two games for the team.

Well, tonight’s game I was playing under a bit of pressure since I had (unexpectedly) done SO well last time I played, I’d set the bar high for myself. Tonight we played an Away game.  I played Okay, but not as well as last time.  I guess I was having kind of a hard time focusing. Or maybe it was because the other team kept going out in three or four rounds, and I didn’t get much of a chance to shoot at all.. I got one bull, maybe one low ton (I can’t remember), and a bunch of “good points!”

Well, in one game round about halfway through the night, I was playing particularly well. I dropped my score down to where I just needed fifteen to go out. The rotation went around without anyone going out, and then it was the guy ahead of me’s turn. In two darts he took himself from 74 down to 8. He was going to go for it on the third dart, but his team members, especially one very vocal one, pleaded with him to stop there. I guess they worried that if he’d bust, he’d be back up at 74 again. I could tell the guy really wanted to go for it, but after about a minute of intense, loud pleading, he stopped.

Then it was my turn.

All I needed was fifteen. With the vocal support of my team, I took the line. I aimed. I focused. The creamy “fifteen” field swelled and expanded in my field of vision until it was all I saw. I aimed. I focused. I threw.

And I hit my mark.

It was a spectacular win, made more so because the other guy stopped more or less against his will. I doubt they thought I’d produce, as I hadn’t played particularly “well” all night (though I didn’t play badly, either.)

It was SO much fun. 😀

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