Monday, December 1, 2025
Column 701
Confessions of a Dart-addled Mind
There’s no known cure, and frankly, I wouldn’t take it if there were. Once you’ve thrown enough darts, the world starts to look… well, different.
A round dinner plate isn’t a plate – it’s a dartboard. A wall clock? Stop sign? Hubcaps?
Dartboard. Dartboard. Dartboard.
And what about Target stores? What player can possibly drive past one without admiring their perfect red and white logo? That’s a dartboard, folks – marketing genius. Somewhere in Target’s corporate backroom a dart player must be claiming royalties.
This “affliction” even follows you into the doctor’s office. At a certain age, they make you take a cognitive screening test – simple stuff, meant to see how sharp you still are (think Trump and how he “aced” the five-word part of this test by remembering the words: person, woman, man, camera and TV).
Another part of the test requires you to draw a clock. A word to the wise: some doctors aren’t amused when you draw a circle and write in dartboard numbers instead.
I can’t help myself.
And it’s not just dartboards that I see…
Somewhere along the line, my brain rewired to think in terms of checkouts. (I can think ‘em – I just can’t hit ‘em). My wife once caught me squinting at the microwave timer and mumbling “tops for the win” when it hit 40 seconds.
When I see $32 on a gas pump, I automatically think d16. When I’m driving and the speedometer hits 57, I instinctively calculate 17, tops. I’ve ruined grocery shopping forever – every price tag is a finish. “Look, honey – Raman noodles, just 76 cents – that’s t20, d8.” (NOTE: it may not be by accident that I’ve ruined grocery shopping.)
And it’s not just round objects and numbers…
At a restaurant I once caught myself trying to “group” three crumbs on the table. I sometimes practice throwing when I’m brushing my teeth (the toothbrush makes a perfect tungsten substitute – right up until the toothpaste splatters across the mirror).
People who don’t play darts can’t possibly understand this harmless, incurable condition – “dart brain” – where every circle is a target and every number between 1 and 170 is a chance for glory.
Just this past weekend, I was back (oh horrors!) in line at the grocery store (a favor for my wife – to pick up milk and eggs but which also ended up including donuts, potato chips, two bags of Reece’s cups and a frozen pizza). The total came to $90 (who says grocery prices aren’t absurd?). At the checkout I blurted, “t18, d18!” The cashier stared at me. The lady behind me clutched her purse.
So yes, I suppose the world thinks I’m crazy. But that’s okay. Normal people see the world one way. Dart players see it correctly.
Stay thirsty, my friends,
Dartoid
Crazy but really true!
Years ago teaching the young guys their outs going down the Interstate at tiny bit over the speed & 5 or 6 trying to be first & then in 45 seconds a new one comes. Going down was easier than going up from 2 or 3 took forever! And to be honest the mile marker Did Not say 3 I said it! Did! Mile marker said 302 then 303. They to do 2 sets of math!
Then with a fire Chief in the van 3 miles until we got to 170, everybody told how close they had come! But as the sign came in view I said “well we’re taking it out tonight”. And proceeded to dig it out & so 5 of us took a 170! Mile marker out together! Proudly displayed for many years at the DARTBoRRd in Denver!