Thursday, December 19, 2024
Column 676
When a friend betrays (or the reason Darts in Paadise was “CANCELLED”)
“A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.” This is the West Point Code of Honor. They always said that in the civilian world the difficult part would be the last four words.
How right they were.
“Consider yourself fortunate if you can count five true friends in life – people you can trust implicitly, who you will do anything for and who will always be there for you.” This was what my mother told me.
How right she was.
Over the past year, these two guiding principles of mine – the West Point Code of Honor and my mother’s advice – collided with unsettling force. The actions of an individual I considered among my closest friends starkly contradicted the values I hold dear. He was my partner in Darts in Paradise.
As I write this, I think the tournament is cancelled – or maybe it is just postponed. My partner was asked directly by text on August 17th if the tournament was off, and his response was “Yes.” Then, on August 19th I received this: “… I think we must place the current event on hold until such time as we can align with partners who have a larger active database.” This followed a more or less confidential heads-up from one of his staff that they were “looking for a way out.” What all this actually means is anyone’s guess, but two things are clear: 1) the decisions were made unilaterally despite the “partnership” and 2) there is some thought or effort to “align” with a different partner. So, there you go. It seems I was dismissed.
I have heard nothing in four months. The Darts in Paradise website is down. Or gone.
My partner in this venture was responsible for all money-related matters – ticketing, payments and payouts, etc. I had agreed with two of our darts celebrities (my partner was well aware – plus there was an agreed budget) to provide their airfares as soon after June 1 as they became available to book. I tried and tried many times to get the tickets issued. August 17th marked one month since I first made the request. I followed up and followed up and was assured repeatedly that they were being “processed.” Nothing.
During the same period weekly meetings abruptly ended. A long agenda, covering everything you might imagine is required in planning a tournament, languished. The billing section of the website went down – we were told it was just a “glitch.” It never returned. The website has vanished.
During this period, and before, some startling things were discovered…
Among them, I learned that the hotel in Costa Rica (Crocs) was not more than half-sold for Darts in Paradise (which was what I was told necessitated the move to Cancun), and that there was no contract with the hotel.
I was dismayed to learn (again from one of my partner’s staff) that my partner’s website, which listed several exciting events and said they “program distinct immersive experiences 52 weeks a year,” was just a “concept” and none of the events displayed had been produced. One of the events was attempted, postponed and finally cancelled. One of the main organizers quit due to “irreconcilable differences.”
I was told that no events have been held since 2020.
Despite numerous warnings over the years from various people who viewed my friend with suspicion and disdain, I chose to ignore the red flags until they smacked me square in the face. I heard the stories, dismissed the criticisms and remained resolute in my loyalty. I believed my judgment could discern the difference between harmless exaggeration and deceitful dishonesty.
How wrong I was.
In 1997, when confronted with a choice between maintaining this friendship or safeguarding my job, I chose the former. It was an easy decision – I believed my friend’s flaws were minor compared to the value I placed on loyalty. I was steadfast in my belief that the integrity of friendship outweighed professional risk.
I lost my job.
Still, and until relatively recently – and despite how many others ended their relationships with my friend – I remained steadfast.
I perceived this friend as a mere “bullshitter” – someone who exaggerated or told tall tales without malicious intent. I had known similar characters in my youth, like an old poker buddy who would spin tall tales for amusement. His fabrications were harmless, intended to entertain rather than deceive. This distinction left me blind to the insidious behavior of my friend.
We all know bullshitters. My high school poker friend was just an innocent bullshitter. He’d arrive late for games, always with a similar excuse. “I’m sorry I’m late – I stopped at Arby’s and met a 20-year-old girl”. Years later, when we were all in our fifties, he showed up late for a game. “I’m sorry,” he said, laughing, “I stopped at Burger King and met a 20-year-old girl.”
Yes, he was a bullshitter, but there was no malice, no design on some sort of personal gain. Of course, he wasn’t picking up 20-year-old girls – not at 15 and not at 50. He knew it, and he knew we knew it. He was just messing with us.
As time passed, the reality of my friend’s actions became inescapable. The façade of seemingly harmless exaggeration crumbled to reveal a near pathological pattern of double-talk and untruths. The betrayals were manifold: a steady stream of lies and manipulative stories told, evidently, for personal gain (and at my expense) and a blatant disregard for agreements and financial obligations. The list is long. I could no longer trust a word I was told.
For more than a year I invested my heart, my soul, my money and time into Darts in Paradise. I pulled many friends into the venture – Rocky Wilcox, John Lowe, Russ Bray, Keith Deller, Paul Lim, Howie Reed, Trish Grzesik (and others who were to be announced). I recommended it to countless others. I wrote two dozen Dartoid’s World columns promoting the event.
Again, in August I was informed that the tournament was cancelled, then postponed (who really knows) by my “friend.” I was, I am, powerless to do anything about it. There was no discussion. This is not to say that I did not share concerns along the way, literally beginning the day I was approached about the partnership. Foremost among these concerns was the cost. I strongly opposed the move from Costa Rica and only acquiesced when told the Costa Rica hotel was more than half-sold. Essentially, all my concerns were dismissed. Never did I expect sales to accelerate until mid-fall or after the world championships.
Yes, I had long believed there was a significant difference between bullshitters and liars – that bullshitters exaggerated just to get a rise or impress while liars told lies for personal aggrandizement. Maybe I was wrong – perhaps I even had my definitions wrong – but I just didn’t see a bullshitter as inconsistent with my Code of Honor.
I was wrong.
And yes, repeatedly, I was told that I was oblivious to what was in front of my eyes – that I was being taken advantage of, blind to the stream of lies, and more, that my friend was promulgating for personal advantage.
Gradually I saw the light. When it struck, it struck me hard.
Revelation after revelation. Lie after lie – exposed.
I was weary. Physically drained.
I am mortified.
The contrast between my misplaced loyalty and my friend’s duplicity was shocking. My adherence to a misguided sense of fidelity had enabled some of his behavior and allowed him to perpetuate his deceit, impacting many of my acquaintances. The loyalty I had extended was, in hindsight, undeserved and misplaced. I should have listened as others once close to this person saw the truth and removed him forever from their lives.
I was a fool.
As I accepted that my friend was not a friend, the burden of my earlier misjudgment became a source of profound guilt. Putting my reputation on the line I had vouched for him, defended him and stood by him when others had rightfully distanced themselves. The consequences of this misplaced trust – both personal and professional – are lessons I will carry with me forever. I must live with the stain, the guilt, of having vouched for him with so many others.
I can only hope that this same sort of betrayal never happens to you.
To those in the darts community who may have been affected by my erroneous judgments, I extend my most sincere apology. The trust I once placed in this individual, and the subsequent endorsement of his character, was a grave miscalculation. I hope my experience serves as a cautionary tale about the complexities of trust and the importance of discerning true character from superficial charm.
I thought I was dealing with an honorable person. I was not.
Not long ago (February 26 in Sarasota – I memorialize everything), my former friend told me: “I can talk anybody into anything.”
Perhaps, but not me – at least not forever.
From the field,
Dartoid
