Thursday, December 22, 2005

WRITE UP FOR WEEK # 13: GOING OUT ON A HIGH NOTE

CAPTAIN'S LOG: DART DATE 12-20-05

NOTE: This game was actually played on the orginally scheduled date, in the middle of the transit strike...

The Captain sounded his conch shell from the rooftop of his 73rd Street Apt. And the Dartbags answered the call. RJ fought the traffic in from Jersey. Cuppa Joe began his slow trek across the Brooklyn Bridge. Pike boarded the train from Connecticut. Big Friendly left his Fortress of Solitude in Ottawa, Canada to fly in. From all across the tri-state area and beyond, the Dartbags journeyed to Gaf East.

A transit strike had paralyzed Gotham City. But that didn't matter. There could have been a transit strike, a blizzard and an army of C.H.U.D.'s emerging from the city's sewers to dine on the flesh of men... it still wouldn't stop the Dartbags from finding their way to Gaf East for their rematch with the Who's Gerald Liefer? (aka, the Fockers).

This was about Dart Night. It was also about rallying around friends. And -- after the 22-2 beatdown we suffered last time -- it was about self-respect and the opportunity for payback.

With a near full contingent (only Lou could not attend) the Dartbags (Most Drinkin'est and Friendliest Dart team in the NYDO TM) would do battle against their nemesis. Though, as far as nemeses go, this is as good a bunch of guys as you're going to find.

Usually, the 'Bags start out with Pike first to, in the words of Ebbie Calvin "Nuke" Laloosh, "Announce our presence with authority!" But Glenn was in Grand Central Station. So Frank went instead, against Craig. The last time Craig and Pike locked horns there were a couple of 7 round humdingers. This time was a much more modest contest. Frank made it interesting in game one by dropping from 123 to 32, but Craig took out a double 8 for the W. In round 2, Captain Furious, stayed close and sunk a double 10 to even the score. 1-1 after the first set.

Of course, it was 1-1 after the first set last time. And Jay Leno was doing his monologue before we got back in the win column again.

On a side note, the question needs to be asked. Is Craig Nobbs doomed to suffer the same fate as look-alike and former Met Hero, Jeff Reardon? Falling from accomplished star riding high in the sport he loves to a desperate man turned to a life of crime? We hope not.

Up next Marty faced off against Mark. Farticus dropped the first in an uninteresting match. In the second, he hung tough. With a 29 left, he hit a 3 on his first dart. Dart number two.... just wide of the double 13! He almost brought the house down with that one. His last dart was wide as well and Mark didn't miss his chance to seal the win for the Liefers. So Farticus didn't quite upset one of the league's best players.... but it was fun to give him a scare. 1-3

RJ faced off against Captain Carlos in set 3. Arjay dropped the first. But then a voice came over the intercom.... "Paging, Dr. Morrow. Dr. Morrow... you're wanted in the OR."

Enter, the Surgeon.

Okay. That didn't really happen. In fact, I don't think the Gaf has an intercom. But thanks to our failsafe motivational tactic reseved only for RJ (i.e., saying "You suck!" repeatedly to him between throws), he seemed to recover his game. A pair of 95s and a timely double out sealed the deal and got the 'Bags back in the win column. 2-4

After the win:

Glenn: You still suck.

RJ: Thank you.


Who is GL? is a team of 6 Grenades. But to be fair, Neil is probably a little more like C-4 Plastic Explosive. Vince would face off against him in set 4. 'Cenzo shot well enough to earn a point against most people. Not this time though. 2-6.

Glenn and Julio squared off in Rnd 5. Good friends and great shots, this would be interesting. Pike extended out to a lead to put himself on 72- a nice out. Dart #1... a 5.... causing couple of dropped heads. (Oh, ye of little faith.) Next dart -- 17. Time to run down the checklist:

Shoulder waggle -- check. Arm shake -- check. Double Bullseye -- CHECK!

First class darts by Glenn.

In the second game, he put himself on 80... and climbed the ladder 20, 20, 40 to score another point. Great stuff. 4-6.

Tim hadn't yet arrive, so we moved on to cricket. The 'Bags sent RJ and Marty out in the first set in a diversionary tactic much like the one employed by Aragorn when he led the Army of Gondor to the gates of Baradur to occupy the forces of Mordor so that Frodo & Sam could destroy The One Ring in the fires of Mt. Doom.

Well, that's how I thought of it anyway.

The plan worked! They drew Neil and Mark. And they got crushed. Though, RJ threw some heroic darts -- much like the way Boromir in a valiant but vain attempt to fight off the Uruk Hai before eventually falling to the Uruk Hai Chieftain. (Okay. No more Lord of the Rings analogies) 4-8

Vince and Cuppa Joe faced off against Carlos and Julio in the second set. After dropping the first, the twoheaded monster known as Cuppa'Cenz (or VincenCup) roared back to take the second off of a very tough pair of opponents. That's how far we've come as a team. We are actually earning splits against the top players of the league without using Pike. 5-9

The 'Bags went with a rare teaming of Pike and Frank in the last set. The plan worked to perfection. Frank was competent and Pike was vicious. (R-7, R-6 and who knows how many R-5s). They took two off of Craig and Tom. And all of a sudden, the gritty, gutty Dartbags were trailing 7-9.

And there was a chance to actually even the match if the newly arrived Big Friendly Tim could take a pair off Tom. Unfortunately the lingering effects of jet lag, stop and go traffic and Canadian cuisine (Damn their circular bacon and elk meat!) was too much. He dropped a pair. 7-11

So we headed to the last round of the season. If the 'Bags pulled off a miracle 5 points... they could walk away tied.

RJ and Frank faced off against Neil and Mark. Mark started it with a 105-On and Neil finished it with a 140-Out. But in the second, RJ got the 'Bags in right away and both players shot well. In fact, they a shot at an out before letting the Fockers snatched the victory. A bitter loss. A "bile-inducing, f-bomb generating, "try to remember to use your left hand when you punch something" kind of loss. 7-13. Damn.

In making out the line up for the last round, the following exchange occurred.

Frank: Do you want to play?

Colin: Umm... Yeah. Okay. I have my darts with me.


Indeed he did. The two regular 23 Piranhas... and the third dart.... Ol' Rusty.

Thor had Mjolnir. Arthur had Excalibur. Colin has Ol' Rusty. Each a weapon imbued with magical properties causing them to strike for more damage/frequency then the laws of nature should allow when wielded by their owners.

Ol' Rusty was born on a cool March evening in 2004 when Piranha number 3 disappeared into the blackhole behind the radiator at Colin's 73rd Street apartment, never to be heard from again. (The Dart Gods work in mysterious ways. Never question them.) He reached for the only object around, a battered old bar dart that had been sitting on a shelf for untold years. Since that time Ol' Rusty, the misshapen brass bar dart used to complete his set has become a legend. A charmed third dart at the center of historic Dartbag events -- much like a cross between Billy Barool and Forrest Gump .

Some of the legend is pure myth (e.g., Ol' Rusty cannot physically be resheathed until it has tasted bullseye.)

Some of the legend is absolute truth (e.g., Ol' Rusty glows blue when McCarthy's people are near).

So with Colin having the foresight to actually bring his darts with him to dart night, the 'Bags put him and Pike together and sent them out to face Tom and Julio.

Some fine darts by Glenn (including a 95) kept the 'Bags in it. But their backs were to the wall. With Colin on 70 and Julio poised to take out 32, this represented, for all intents and purposes, a last chance. First dart... a double 10... that's 20. So far so good... second dart... 10. That leaves 40.

And behold! Colin produced Ol' Rusty and held her aloft in the pale Gaf light. Beaten and battered by wars gone by, she had lost much of her lustre... but none of her bite. Colin let out a deep breath and with that peculiar follow through (like a person shoving open a heavy door) he let fly. And Rusty, true to the mark, sank her teeth into the heart of the Double 20 and held fast! Victory is ours!

And the jubilant cries of the Dartbags sounded across the city waking the ghosts of the Mucky Skippers, Zulu Dart Kings, Dart Vaders and all others who tasted her bitter sting before!


But that was only the first game. In game 2, Glenn failed to get in on turn 1 and like that, we were in the hole. But Colin got the 'Bags in and we had ourselves another dart game. This was a well-played crisp affair. Another nail biter. This time, Colin was looking at an 80-Out. And like, Glenn did earlier in the evening, he shot 20s, sinking a single, a single and Ol' Rusty pierced the double to take another stunning victory. Unbelievable darts by The Microwave, notching two wins and adding a chapter to the legend. And, it should be said, some great coaching by Glenn too -- (i.e., "I'm having him shoot for 10s", brilliant)

Personally for me, this was about as big a highlight as we've had all season. There are others, but this has to be right at the top.

Riding high on the sweep the Dartbags sent out VincenCup for the final set of the season. (Next week is bye). They dropped the first to Craig and Carlos. But, just as in cricket, Vince and Cup came back strong. Some manly darts by Cup (127, 133 along the way) paid dividends and with the Liefers already having missed a shot an out it was do or die time. Vince came up big by hitting the the double 4 to earn the split and with secure 10 points for the Dartbags.

What a great way to end the season. We earned a respectable 10-14 result off the same team that whooped us (shudder) 22-2 just seven weeks earlier. Not only that, we got everybody in the line up and we had a good time. This was one of those nights that --win or lose-- is what dartnight should be.

With 10 points we earned, we now have 128. With the 12 we get next week, we will finish with 140. So there will be no playoffs for us this season. But, there appears to be a very good chance that that there will be no relegation to B league either, which is what usually happens to A League rookies. It was definitely a different experience this time around. But we showed we belong. And we had a good time along the way. There were many highlights from this year that deserve mention. (We'll address that with a later post).

On a personal note, I want to thank everyone for offering their kind wishes, (manly) hugs, prayers and shots of whiskey. I appreciate them all very much. My situation is far from unique. On our team alone, six players have lost their fathers. Many of us have "been there" or will be there some day. So let's wish peace and happiness to those who are here and those who have gone before. Let's wish good times and good health for those we love; and a thankfulness for all we have -- including the ability to get together with good people on Tuesday night and have fun playing darts. I know I consider that a great blessing. Happy New Year, everybody.

-Frank

Thursday, December 15, 2005

For You, Dad - In Memory of Frank Murtha - by Cuppa Joe Gasparino

Tuesday was my father's birthday.

My dad passed away a few year's ago, losing a tough battle
with leukemia...one that pulled the rug out from under me,
leaving me and my family reeling from how suddenly
it all happened. I miss him.

Tuesday was also dartnight.

I woke up late, around 11 or so, and as I do every year,
was planning to call my mom and wish my dad a happy birthday
through her. I was also planning to text message or call
Frank, my captain, to tell him I was thinking about not
playing, partly due to my lack of enthusiasm from losing so
much lately, but also due to the overall malaise of missing
my father.

Then I read my email.

The one at the top of my inbox was from Frank, and it was
titled "some sad news". The sad news was that Frank's father,
Frank Murtha, had passed away the night before from a
heart attack. He was 67 years old.

How could this be?

I didn't know the man, but I know he was healthy,
and this was a complete and utter shock to everyone that
knew him, especially to Frank and his family.

How could this be? I live with that question every day,
and now, suddenly, my good friend has been thrust into
having to ask himself that same question.

I don't have an answer, but I know that there is something
greater and more powerful than we are, pulling the strings,
writing the script. I know Frank Sr. has moved on to a
better place, joining my dad...Vince's dad...Farty's dad,
who have also passed on, not too long ago.

Yesterday I celebrated life. The life of my dad,
but also the life of Frank Murtha, may he rest in peace,
and may God bless his soul and be with the Murtha family.

We, the Dartbags, celebrated the life of Frank Murtha...

...senior AND junior...

...in our own way...

...by KICKING THE SNOT OUT OF THE "KETTLE OF FISH",
IN CRICKET AND DOUBLES 501, IN WHAT CAN ONLY BE DESCRIBED
AS AN ALL-OUT "BUM-RUSH"!

13-11.

-----------------

Not really knowing what the plan was for darts after
reading the sad news, I stumbled into the office and saw Lou
practicing on the practice board we bought about a month ago.

Seeing me walk in, Lou said to me, "hey...I think I got my mojo back".

The mojo he's referring had been on the back of milk cartons
and on "America's Most Wanted", with the likes of Natalee Holloway
and Peter Braunstein.

It also allowed me to beat the pants off him, 14 out of the
last 15 cricket games we played, but I digress...

So I said, "you wanna test that swagger?", to which Lou laughed
and basically said "bring it on". Well, something else was inside
Lou, maybe it was his mojo, I'm not sure...but he returned the
favor, beating me 5 out of 6.

It's safe to say that something else was inside all of us
as we filed into George Keeley for what could be the last time
we do that as the original Dartbags.

The air was different inside, while the air outside was so
cold, when you spit, it was frozen before it hit the ground,
thank you Margo and Michael Timmins.

Lou and I got there first, and saw that a rather large group
of people had commandeered our usual table. But without
fussing over it, we simply set up shop in the corner section,
where the open mic used to take place. We didn't care.
We were loose. Obviously, the importance of things had
been put into perspective for us earlier in the day.

Lou ordered the infamous "dogfish head 90", throwing caution
to the wind. "I don't care if I miss the board tonight",
he said. In honor of RJ, I chose Guinness, after learning
that he wouldn't be making either, and that's his usual tonic.

Glenn Pike, aka IYH, aka the 'Dartbag alpha-male' joined
us shortly after, also digging the new setup. We sat, we drank,
we talked...we relaxed.

We learned that Glenn got a job. Something different really
was in the air...but again, I digress.

We didn't really practice, either. Ok, maybe a little, but not the
usual 'conga line' thing we do. It just didn't really matter. What
mattered was what we seemed to have lost a bit over most of this season.

It mattered that it was Tuesday night, and Tuesday nights, we get
together and enjoy eachother's company and unwind.

That's why we do this.

Well, everyone else showed up, BFT, Farticus, Vincenzo...rounding
out our 6 'bags for the night...as well as superfans Jessie, Nell,
Jen, Jemma, and Hope, the original superfan. We packed it in.

The Kettle showed up with a couple of new faces, and it was game-on.

We were without our beloved captain, so we 'captained' by committee.

(singles 501)

Glenn started us off and took both from Andrew Doyle. He smacked
334 asp's in an effortless display.

Methodical.
Undeniable.
Ridiculous.

Next up was Vincenzo. In a mindboggling twist, the artist,
formerly known as cheese, hammered 438 asp's...but lost
BOTH GAMES to Nuala, who nailed a ton-71 along the way.

Remember, she beat the snot out of RJ last time in one of the
biggest beat downs we've ever seen. She's no joke. I'm not
laughing….yes I am….to keep from crying.

Next was Cuppa, aka 'Joey Pep', aka 'me, who's writing this
week's blog'. Getting down to 62 both games, attempting to hit
the trip-10, I ended up hitting the single10, then the 20...then
missing the double-16 by a hair. As we all know, there's
no margin for error, and I lost both to Susan Rafter, a new face.

Next was Pya Lou. Lou was a bit 'dogfish head-y', sans a ton-33,
but solid. He pulled off a split against a tough James Deane,
yes, James Deane, who smacked 400 asp's.

We needed that win, as we had lost 4 in a row.

'Bags down 3-5.

BFT was next. He ran into a buzz-saw named Jackie, who
displays a funky, backhanded type throw...and also
displays a nasty can of 'whoop-ass', cranking out 455 asp's
in those 2 games.

'Bags down 3-7.

Farticus squared off against the other Susan in the last
2 games of singles '01. These 2 games collectively took
about as much time as the entire rest of the match.
Farty lost the first one in a nail-biter...actually, it was
more like a 'nail-gnaw-er', but again, I digress...

Down 3-8, we were staring 3-9 in the face which would have
been downright debilitating. But Farty, who
remarkably missed the board 9 times during the match,
stepped up and pulled out a 'w', lofting a wobbly dart into a…

...actually I have no idea what it hit because I drank
so much during the 'million-years-war', I passed out.

I awoke, and the 'bags were 'back in it', down 4-8.
Thank you Fartman - that was massive.

But this is where it all changed.

Captaining by committee, we formed a huddle over the
table in our new corner digs, threw the lineup sheet down
and planned the next move: 'The Bum-Rush'.

We were loose, spirited…a few "do it for Frank"s could
be heard over all the chatter.

Our opening salvo was the next best thing to the
'River Road Connection', the principals of 'Scarsdale Inc.',
Pya Lou and Vincenzo. Our strategy was to hit them
hard and quick with one of our toughest…

...actually, we really just wanted to get Lou out there
as quickly as possible…

…the dogfish head's were winning.

The boys did their best 'Dennis Kozlowski' and stole the
first game. VP, Pya Lou manufactured an R6, but losing the
second game to the 2 Susans left our little corporate
connection looking for a $3000 shower curtain to hide behind.

A split, and it was 5-9 bad guys.

NEWS FLASH:

We would win 8 out of the last 10 points.

Commence the 'bum-rushing'.

Funny: during 'Scarsdale Inc.'s corporate cacophony,
Wendell, one of the nicer guys we've come across at
dartnight, and friend of Jackie, was yukking it up with
me, BFT and Glenn, complementing us for being good
guys, and how dartnight is a great thing…took a sip of his
Budweiser and coughed it up all over my back
and BFT's black sweater. Talk about 'yukking it up'.

But Wendell insisted on doing the right thing,
and bought the boys a couple of Brooklyns.

Thanks guy. For a free Brooklyn, you can cough up Bud
on me anytime.

Next was a twisted little game of 'hi-low'…throwing
Glenn and Farticus out to do battle. Glenn performed an
impressive showing of "I can beat you with one arm tied
behind my back", and against a really tough draw of
Nuala and Andrew Doyle.

IYH continued the trend and nailed an R6.
Farty won an oscar for 'best supporting dartbag',
and the boys swept both.

7-9.

Next up was a first time pairing of BFT, aka 'the silver fox'
and Cuppa. This won't be the last time, as the boys played
2 spirited games against a sick pair, James Deane…yes, that’s
James Deane…and the downright nasty, backhanded,
bitch-slapping stuff that is Jackie.

The first game was the game of the night, and ended with
an earth-shaking, viking yelp from BFT…the Kettle cracked.

The game went to the wire. After an R7 from Cuppa, the boys
were in good position. Needing to close 15's, get a jump on the
bulls….and needing a few points to get on top, Cuppa closed
the 15's…and with his last 2 darts went bullseye-bullseye.

Redemption from last week's cricket embarrassment.

With one bull needed to close, and one more to win, BFT
blasted the first one…crushed the second one. With dart
in hand, the big guy screamed, James Deane jumped out of
his shoes, and the boys locked arms in a manly embrace
only rivaled by Cuppa's pummelling of Vincenzo's back
last season.

However, the second game slipped away, as Jackie,
Miss Jackie if you're nasty…yes you are…cut an R7 that
was too much to recover from.

Still, the 'bags felt juiced and it was getting closer…8-10.

(doubles 501)

We decided to keep the 'hi-low' game going and fired
Glenn and Farticus out first. The game was on, and they
swept both games agains Andrew Doyle and Susan. More
asp's for IYH…a ton-36 and a 95…and more missed board's
by Farticus, but he was game enough to help deadlock the
match…..10-10.

BFT and Pya Lou, who admittedly does not remember
playing at this point, were next. At this point, Pya was
LOUD, obnoxious…and funny. However, he drew the fire
from the Kettle, specifically James Deane and Susan, at the
repeated use of "whore!" for bad darts, and "yeah bitch!"
for good darts.

Funny: thinking BFT had smashed a double-in on his
first turn, Pya screamed loudly "yeah bitch!"…only to have
BFT turn around after pulling his darts from the board,
"guy…I missed".

Pya: "Mmmm-kay…"

Lou was feeling good and loose, BFT was steady, and the
good-guys completed a sweep, taking the lead.

Speaking of 'good and loose', time for the 'line of the night':

Pya Lou, to Chris, bartender, co-owner of Keeley's.

Pya: "I want to makeout with you."

12-10 'bags.

The final tandem was CuppaCenz, formerly known as…

...well, let's not go there. I like CuppaCenz much better,
but, again, I digress…

The traditionally deadly team CuppaCenz started off
gangbusters, continuing the 'bum-rush', winning the
first game, making it 8 out of the last 9 points.

Cup, attempting to throw a single 14 to leave Cenz
on 32 hit a triple-14, leaving him on 4. The angry one
nailed the double-2 on his first dart, leaving CuppaCenz
to remark in unison:

"We meant that."

Nice work.

Despite a ton-on by Cup, which came too late, the
dream-team let the second one slip away, but it didn't matter.

The party was on…'bags win 13-11.

This one was special, and we all felt it,
as most of us stayed together 'til the
wee-hours of the morning.

I'm not sure exactly where we stand at this point, but
I think this match saved, of did a lot to help save, our
season goal of 'not getting demoted'.

But more importantly, this match did a lot to restore old
values between friends, which is why we started doing this
dart thing in the first place.

We missed you RJ…bigtime. But we'll see you next
Tuesday, hopefully, if not, we're all looking forward to your
'goodbye to polite society' soiree, aka 'new year's bash'
coming up.

Colin, you were missed as well, along with your
garlic sandwich and ole'rusty.

Frank: what can I say. You're irreplaceable, and it's not
the same without you. I'm not sure when you'll come back,
but take all the time you need. You're the leader of this team,
but more importantly, you are your father's son.

I understand what you're going through, and I'm here for
you, anytime you need. We'll get through it together.

I know I speak for the whole team when I say our deepest
sympathies are with you and your family, and you have
8 guys here that love and care for you.

If you need us, we'll be around.

And speaking for myself, it was an honor to merely
substitute for Frank this week, and write the recap.

-Cup


All-Star Points:

685 Glenn
438 Vincenzo
255 Cup
253 Lou
0 BFT (1 cracked kettle)

-180 Farticus (note: missed boards are negative 20 points each)

Saturday, December 10, 2005

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Wednesday, December 07, 2005

WEEK 11

Due to extenuating circumstances. There will be no Captain's Log this week.

Suffice it to say, it was a bad night 6-18.

Tip your cap to McCarthy's.

That is all.

-FM