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     Darterís Limbo

    General Dart Topicstaechon writes "Darterís Limbo

    Not being religious, but still praying for a dartboard to open, I sat watching a couple struggling through a game of Straight-down Cricket. She was in the lead and had everything closed but bulls. He was not far behind, needing a single 16, three 15s and bulls to close and win. The drinks on their table were nearly gone and I was sure that this was going to be the first board to open. I wanted to get in an hour or two of practice before the blind draw that was scheduled to take place at 7:30.

    She threw at the bulls and missed. He managed to hit a 16. She threw at the bulls again and missed. He threw at the 15s and missed. I ordered a cup of coffee and began to realize that I had just stepped into Darterís Limbo.

    There I was, sucking down a hot cup of coffee and wondering exactly how long this match was going to take. Fifteen minutes later, he had managed to close the 15s and she still had not hit a bull. I began to wonder what was in their drink that was causing them to have so much fun shooting darts.

    They would shoot, giggle and smile, hug, pass the darts to one another and miss the targets again. At 20 minutes, she finally slopped into a bull and I began to wonder how long it took them to finish 20 through 17. Had they been throwing since early this morning?

    At this point, I began to realize that even though they were due to finish their game soon, there was no actual guarantee that they would be leaving. What if they decided to shoot another match? Like an un-baptized soul waiting for a end and some sort of closure to the current situation, I waited. At twenty-five minutes, he slopped into a double bull. They both jumped with glee and then spent the next five minutes hugging and kissing and sipping their drinks.

    Finally, she wriggled back up to the oche and threw her darts, two of them off the board and the third someplace that probably never saw a dart before.

    I ordered another cup of coffee and looking deep into its swirling blackness, began to wonder what in the hell it is that attracts beginners to this sport. How in the world can someone spend an hour shooting a game of cricket and actually enjoy it? Even more strange to me was the idea that I may have started off this very same way. Why canít I remember my infancy? I looked up from my coffee to see her miss the bull three more times.

    At last, he managed to slip a dart into the final bull. The game was over. I pulled my dart case out of my jacket pocket, put it on the table, opened it, and began the preparations for play. There was a light in the distance and I was about to make my way to the oche, or so I thought.

    I looked up from my darts and realized they were still shooting. Something was wrong. Had they decided to shoot another game? No. They had not yet erased the board. What were they doing? Then I saw it. There, below the word ďBULLĒ on the whiteboard was a little triangle, the letter ĎTí and the letter ĎD.í Oh my God! (I told you I was praying.) They were playing Minnesota, Super Cricket, or Mickey Mouse (Whatever you want to call it.) These young fools actually imagined they could hit three in a bed three times, three doubles and three triples. And if I had another cup of coffee, I was going to be buzzing around the room like a little angel on go-fast medication. I went to the bathroom instead.

    Returning from my trip to the other realm, I notice that they were not throwing darts any longer. Instead, he was sitting in the chalkerís chair and she was leaning into him in a full lip lock. Perhaps one of them had actually hit a double and had a heart attack that now required necessitation. I thought to call an ambulance but before I could get to the phone they both upturned the final drops of their beverage into their mouths and began putting on their jackets. Fate had finally smiled on me; they would be leaving the dartboard soon.

    Now, with their jackets on, he sat back in the chair and had another heart attack. She pounced on his face with her own and displayed all the expertise of a well-trained emergency rescue worker. I ordered a coke and realized that I had been waiting for 45 minutes.

    At last they broke their lip lock but not their entwining gaze as they ogled one another and pretended to drink something from their long empty cups. I wondered if real Limbo was anything at all like Darterís limbo. God just opens the door now and again so see if people are still waiting. Perhaps he is just hoping that everyone will just go away and find another place to hang out so that he will not have to deal with the mess he himself has created. Whatever the logic is behind this waiting business, it sucks. I decided to go and knock on that door.

    I picked up my darts, walked to the oche and asked, ďAre you guys done shooting?Ē Obviously the triples, doubles and three in a beds had not yet been filled, but they had put on their jackets and it had also been about five minutes since either of them had throw a dart. To my delight, they picked up their empty glasses and move someplace behind the oche. The next hour of practice would be mine.

    And now I am left wondering, how did it all happen? What is it about myself, or those with whom I play, that has caused us to evolve? Surely we were once exactly like this young couple. Sitting in Limbo and watching them play, I could not even imagine myself enjoying such a game. I wonder if they could comprehend the enjoyment I receive from the way I play? I wonder, how did it all happen?
    "



    "Darterís Limbo" | Login/Create an Account | 5 comments | Search Discussion
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    Re: Darterís Limbo (Score: 1)
    by Scooby15 on Monday, January 07 @ 05:26:07 CST
    (User Info | Send a Message)
    Excellent! :)



    Re: Darterís Limbo (Score: 1)
    by Boddington_Paul on Monday, January 07 @ 06:47:08 CST
    (User Info | Send a Message | Journal) http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/qmaster2/album?.dir=5c3dre2&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//photos.yahoo.com/ph//my_photos
    I believe that there is a point in time that we lose the "Joy" of playing. Where you play to just play and mess up and enjoy doing it. When you start playing you really enjoy it and don't care how you do you just play. Until your first REAL competition whether it is tournament or league and you are actually competing for something that gets you serious about it IMO. then you have the 10-15 minute cricket play or the 1 hour play with the 2,000 points and only 20's and 19's closed. So now when you see people shooting for shooting's sake you get impatient cause you really don't get it, how they can be messing up and still enjoy it?



    Re: Darterís Limbo (Score: 1)
    by Charis on Monday, January 07 @ 09:05:19 CST
    (User Info | Send a Message) http://www.globaldarts.de
    Thatīs a great story, Tae!

    But I would think, they perhaps didnīt enjoy playing darts, but enjoyed to do it together and to be together.
    It doesnīt look to me they really focused on their darts.




    Re: Darterís Limbo (Score: 1)
    by Boddington_Paul on Thursday, January 10 @ 05:21:41 CST
    (User Info | Send a Message) http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/qmaster2/album?.dir=5c3dre2&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//photos.yahoo.com/ph//my_photos
    A good observation!! They just enjoyed playing darts together! we on the other hand just enjoy playing just for the competition of it!


    ]


    Re: Darterís Limbo (Score: 1)
    by 26er on Friday, January 11 @ 05:42:54 CST
    (User Info | Send a Message)
    The part you missed was the guy calling his wife telling her he would be home after his cricket match was over.



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