My Dart Season: A Bust. Or Was It A Miss?
Somewhere between rewarding and wanting to strangle kittens.....
My first season as a competitor in the Windy City Darters has come and gone. In a word, it was a bust. Or was it a miss?
Here’s what I discovered. Just throwing darts occasionally, or when you hang out with your college buddies does not make you a competitive player.
My season in a nutshell: I went 0-6. I lost to the three other competitors in my division twice each. But I was competitive in 5 of the matches, losing 2 sets to 3 sets. In one match, I was swept 5-0. I’m not sure if that classifies as a miss, or, like many of my matches in which I could have won with one precise dart throw, a bust. Part of joining a league for the first time was getting familiar with the terminology of dart matches.
I also realized when you’re bad at cricket, you’re going to struggle in competitive darts.
Here’s the good news. I stacked up against everyone else in 301 and 501 games, actually showing a better ability to “double in” or “double out” most times. (My ’01 issues came, like cricket, in hitting precise numbers with consistency). I got better with each match and I pushed my opponents, I hope making them better players.
As I progressed through the season, I experimented with different darts, different grips, finding a comfortable and effective routine and form. It all led to a frustrating final match, in which – among other shots – a triple 20, triple 19 and 2 single 20s fell off the board during a cricket match, creating an insurmountable challenge to beating the opponent who previously swept me 5-0.
When that happens, you realize what a mental game darts is.
(Have you ever seen that? Well I managed it….)
And that, I realized, is my biggest challenge.
When I was 5 years old at my own birthday party, I struggled at a silly game my mother invented that involved dropping clothes pins into an empty milk jug. I mean, who could be expected to be good at that. I guarantee that none of the other kids had ever attempted placing clothes pins in anything, much less plastic milk jugs with narrow openings.
But as I struggled to get even one in the jug, my frustration overtook me and out of something feeling like embarrassment and shame, I ran off to my bedroom. I probably cried.
Not a good look.
When the triple 20 fell out – after already losing my triple 19 – that internal feeling struck me. Forty-seven years later. I was able to play well, but not greatly, after that. But the frustration was real. Especially for a very stubbornly self-competitive guy, I had to fight the feeling that made me want to strangle kittens.
Maybe I exaggerate. A little.
Here’s something you need to know about me. I do not engage in activities at which I am not good. You will almost never see me dance at a wedding. You can forget me ever singing karaoke. Drawing and painting is out.
So when I was talking to my wife about my dart results, I told her it left me with plenty of time to practice before the next season starts, probably in early-to-mid-May. (The good players have weeks of playoffs and the team leagues have a longer season.) She was a bit surprised I was planning on continuing.
More than anything, darts has been fun. With apologies to my final opponent against whom my frustration was visible, it really has been a pleasure to meet, play against, and to get to know three others who pushed me and made the experience so much fun.
Once or twice a week I’ve escaped life to quiet bars to throw a few hundred darts at a round cork board and enjoy a couple, but not many, beers before returning to regularly scheduled life. Practicing my darts allows me to similarly duck out to a local bar to play with my grips, stances, and darts of various weights.
Maybe rewarding is the wrong word for a middle-aged guy who went 0-6 in his first foray into competitive darts. But learning a little bit about yourself and expanding your universe to new people, new places, and new experiences --- yeah, I’d say that’s a nice reward.