DART IRRITATIONS

Dart players have become my people, my friends, and the group I prefer to spend my leisure time around. Much of my writing has focused on criticism of tournament and league organizers. Bitching about league schedules and mathematical formulas. Many of my ideas have since been tried – some are successful and others failed miserably. Now I am turning the spotlight onto dart players. I have some experience as a league coordinator, but much more as a player. You may be my friends, but you still irritate me. It is about time I list the behaviors we all should avoid.

Never tell me what to shoot at. Unless I am too drunk to read the display, there is no reason on Earth to point out the exceedingly conspicuous to me. To do so does nothing but encourage me to hit something else in defiance, very likely costing us the game.

Who started this knuckle-tap thing? Am I the only one getting tired of this shit? I find it particularly irritating when someone gives you a tap after a two-mark. Are dart players really so insecure that we need validation after pegging a lousy two-mark? Why a fist tap? Why not a cheer, hand clap, head butt, thumbs up, or two-taps to the bill of your baseball cap while balancing on one leg and patting yourself on the back with the other hand. Hey, at least if you make the celebration this complicated maybe these idiots would wait for nine-marks and hat tricks before offering a congratulations. The anticipation of seven drunks trying to simultaneously pull off that dance might just be enough to inspire me to toss an occasional White Horse.

When I ask, “Did you win that?” please just answer the question. I do not want a dart-by-dart recap of your entire game. Don't make me stand there for ten minutes waiting for a one-word answer. I did not ask how far ahead you once were, how many times you missed the bull's-eye, how lucky your opponent is, how many darts bounced out of the fifteen, how many drinks you've had today, or your opinion of who ‘should have' won the game. Why didn't I ask these questions? Because I don't fricken care! A simple yes or no will suffice. Why do dart players feel the need to go into such meticulous detail when asked a 'yes' or 'no' question?

This phenomenon multiplies exponentially when describing the results of a race to three. “Did you win your last match?” Well I was up 2 to 1, and I had the 20's and 19's closed when he lucked-out a 7-mark on the 18. Then I had two darts bounce right out of the trip-seventeen . . . “HEY! Get to the point!” At the MOMA tournament I asked a friend the results of his last match. The timeline of his answer started at breakfast. Before even getting to the description of the match I learned the content and quantity of every meal he had the entire weekend. Here is a little piece of advice – if somebody asks you the results of your match and your answer includes the precise time of your last bowel movement – you have offered too much information.

Another group getting on my nerves is the disappearing dart players. These are the ones getting a drink, in the bathroom, playing touch screen, or simply just disappear off the face of the planet whenever their turn arrives. I have been searching for the trap door they slip through – what the hell is over there? Free beer? Nude dancers? A board with no one's or five's? Whatever excitement they find over there must surpass anything going on in this room.

Then we have the double-or-nothing crowd. I learned not to get sucked into these deals years ago. Instead of prying cash out of his wallet these guys shout out ‘double-or-nothing' after every game they lose. It is a total waste of time to continue playing games against a guy with no intention of dishing out some jing. Eventually the cheapskate will win a game. Why should you beat a player five games to one and still break even? As soon as you hear ‘double-or-nothing' demand the cash and quit. You will thank me for this suggestion later.

Handicap Cricket leagues are a good idea – but frustrating when opposing players grow angry whenever you gain more than a fifty point lead. A commanding point lead is no less important in ‘C' level darts than it is in ‘A'. Understanding this could immediately improve the game of ‘B' and ‘C' level players. Unfortunately, they would rather spit venom at the player who pounds points then learn from him. An Engineering degree is not required to simplify this equation. Trip twenties are worth more points then triple fifteens. This would be the reason players do not start out at the fifteens. If you've got it, flaunt it. When your handicap darts close out the twenty and nineteen before your opponent has an opportunity to shoot – expect them to point the eighteens. Do not get angry if you fall 72 or 108 points behind . . . point them back! Don't let your emotions lose the game for you.

While on the subject of emotions – let me ask - when do we start anger management class for pompous dart players? Does it really come as such a surprise to miss? I write this in an attempt to save unnecessary dartboard abuse. Few actions demonstrate ignorance better than a 2.5 mark-per-round (mpr) player punching the board after tossing a three-mark. It is time for a little reality check, partner. The reason you did not stick any triples is because you are really not that good. You should be thankful for any round that exceeds your average – since it only happens half of the time. No player at any level should be angry after improving his/her average. Until I meet a 9.0 player, I am convinced that everybody misses some shots. For those who cannot help uttering a few self-deprecating words after a zero-mark, go right ahead. But please do not exhibit your stupidity by assaulting the dartboard.

If you do lack the ability to suppress your emotions – and must pitch your darts across the bar – let me offer some advice. I say this from past experience; so do not take my words lightly. This is just one small thing for you to remember – at the moment you are just about to launch your darts into the atmosphere – is how embarrassing it will be when you have to ask for help finding them afterward. Your darts could stick into the walls or ceiling, and now you have to get the bartender involved, asking for a ladder to retrieve them. Darts tend to end up under table legs, video games, and cigarette machines. As the bar manager is strapping a two-wheeler to the thousand pounds of metal your dart slides under – the only more degrading moment is when the question is asked, “How did your dart get under here?”

Those who think they can get out easy with the stool kick; you will not be so lucky. Stool kicking is an art – not intended for amateurs. You can't have a stool slamming down and rolling around the floor. This leaves you looking like an imbecile. Making a loud noise is not good enough and the chair must remain on its legs. Distance is the key, but the stool also must not impact other objects . . . unless that object happens to be your opponent in that game. Before even attempting a stool kick proper techniques should be studied at the Jarrod Walker State University of Chair Kicking Standards – better known as J.W. SUCKS. I once saw Professor Walker slide a stool 150ft across a dance floor stopping just inches away from turning his opponent into a soprano. That is a textbook kick. It takes millions of errant darts to achieve that level of chair-chucking ability. Anything less will only embarrass you.

For those who are guilty of nothing from the above list – rest assured you have done something else that pisses me off.  This is merely a start. Then again, it is all these behaviors that break the monotony of straight dart shooting, and add some extra entertainment into the evenings. So go right ahead dart players, keep supplying me with writing material.

Darrin Barker

May 18th, 2003