Throwing darts at home yesterday, I did much better than in my previous practice sessions. The main improvement was being more consistent in my throws, with even my misses being close to the intended target. So, I was feeling pretty confident when I headed out for the Tuesday tournament at Alley Cats. Alas, when I was doing my warmup tosses, it was back to being all over the place. No idea what was up with that.
So, there were enough players to hold a doubles tournament, and I agreed to participate. Almost hilariously, the partner I drew apologized before I could, and then we both agreed just to let the darts fly as they will and have fun. So, in the first round, we played Alley Cats owner Dean and the waitress Mengie. We had a shot at the out in 501, but couldn’t hit our number before our opponents did. The next round was cricket, and Dean was on fire. We were dispatched to the losers’ bracket in short order. When our turn came up in the losers’ bracket, we once again had our asses handed to us in both legs. So, that made it a 0-4 evening of darts. I’m not giving up yet.
There was a guy at the bar I didn’t know wearing a shirt that caught my eye. It’s unlike me to talk to a stranger, but I approached him and asked if he’d mind me taking a pic of his shirt. He shrugged, introduced himself, and said, “Sure.”
After darts, we moved up the highway to Green Room. I used my Sit-n-Bull discount coupon to order a roast beef dip sandwich and had it delivered to my table. Another beer or two later, and it was time to go home. We’ll see if it goes better for me at Friday’s tourney.
Here’s a random shot of my ballcap wardrobe:
Facebook memories was once again full of photos I’d posted from the distant past:
It’s October 2017 in the LTG archives, and I’m making my first and last visit to Boracay. I helped my tour guide/caregiver, Loraine, celebrate her 50th birthday there. There were clues about what was to come on the horizon, but I foolishly ignored them.
I can’t seem to shake this feeling of impending doom, so today’s YouTube video about how Buddha saw death caught my eye. There was nothing concerning the do-over I fantasize about, but it sounds better than nothing. Or maybe he meant that Nirvana is nothing. Or something.
Let’s end this with a smile.
Now to get back to livin’ while I still have time.
Graduated from high school in 1973.
What was your high school’s Latin motto?
Sorry to hear about how the game went, but an alternating crests-and-troughs pattern of wins and losses is more or less to be expected as long as performance is inconsistent. As you know, to get good at anything, you actually have to dedicate yourself to that thing. Half-assed effort = half-assed results, whether it’s darts or finally learning to hyphenate phrasal adjectives and to use commas correctly.
Quite the collection of hats. Do you favor one over the others or just randomly grab one each day?
(Random hat thought. I remember as a kid, one of my parents absolute rules was “no hats in a restaurant.” among other places. That definitely got ingrained in my brain, as to this day, I never wear a hat in a restaurant.)
Brian, yes, I have my favorites and also try to color-coordinate with my outfit.
No rules about hats here (even in the topless bars), but back in my days on the Army base, I respected the no-hats-indoors rule.
Kevin, if I ever knew my school’s Latin motto, I’ve long-ago forgotten it. I did check the WHS Wikipedia page, and it says the motto is “One Family, One Pride.”
I was shocked to see the current demographics, with only 5% of the student body being white. When I attended, I would estimate my classmates were 70% white, 25% Latino, and 5% other. My, how times have changed in my old hometown.
But isn’t a half-assed effort better than no effort at all?
I checked your school, too, and saw it never had a Latin motto. I guess I just assumed that, since my high school had one, all high schools did. Silly me.