Lacombe, Lucien (1974)

"A Tufty Club badge . . ."

Still catching up (part 9)

28/50

"What is this? An intervention?"

Still catching up (part 8)

27/50

Pub Darts (Part 3)

Catching up (part 7)

Seven 180s in one day, and the third 180 in one day in a bar. This one was whilst I was waiting for our clothes to dry in the laundromat across the road. I either got a nice compliment or some shade after hitting this 180. I'll just leave that there.

26/50

Pub Darts (Part 2)

Catching up (part 6)

25/50

Pub Darts (Part 1)

Catching up (part 5)

24/50

I was (very briefly) on fire one Tuesday . . .

Four 180s in 22 minutes.

No one to witness it  . . . no one to congratulate me . . . no one . . . Millwall . . .

"Lance told me . . ."

Catching up (part 4)

23/50

"What the fuck is that?"

Catching up (part 3)

22/50

"I wish I knew how to quit you . . ."

Catching up (part 2)

21/50

"Go away somewhere crap . . ."

Catching up (part 1)

20/50

1950 was a good year for Uruguay . . .

I'm running out of things to write. Bad wordsmith; improving dart player

19/50

A New Era . . .

. . . was the name of a Maoist bookshop on Seven Sisters Road in North London that I visited a few times in the late 80s/early 90s. Not that great a left-wing bookshop, tbh, but I do remember picking up a copy of Harry McShane's 'No Mean Fighter' for a couple of kid.

This post is a 'New Era' 'cos I've now hit more 180s in 2020 than I did in the whole of 2019.

18/50

Round 96: Smashing New Year's Darts Resolutions

Darts Thrown: January 26th 2020

Blog Written: February 15th 2020

Highest Score: 180

Lowest Score: 5

Sixties: 60

100+: 26

180s: 1

180s Missed: 3

Blogger's Note: Written in haste, so there will be spelling mistakes and slapdash grammar.

New Year's Darts Resolutions (Updated)

• Hit two 180s in one day.
• Hit fifty 180s in 2020.
• Hit a high of 41 - as the lowest score - in a round.
• Hit 60 sixties in a round.
• Hit a 180 in a bar.
• Towards the end of the year, join a pub team and, naturally, go down in flames in ignominious defeat.

I'm now officially half way through my New Year's Darts Resolutions. I refer you to the documented evidence above to show that I've finally hit 60 sixties in one round. I guess the next goal is to hit 75 sixties but don't hold your breath on that one.

The song of the round? No rhyme or reason; I'm just another wannabe axe hero.

The Stone Roses - 'Love Spreads'

Christmas comes early . . .

Seventeenth 180 of 2020, and it's not even the end of January. I hit seventeen 180s in the whole of 2019. 

I'm ahead of schedule . . . so I am heading for a fall.

17/50

Running out of Elvis Costello song titles . . .

I'm just catching up. Bear with me.

16/50

Hunting Grounds: A Scottish Football Safari by Gary Sutherland (Birlinn Ltd 2012)

 

INTRODUCTION

42 grounds in the space of eight months. Dozens of pies and more pints than I probably needed. Countless trains and numerous buses. Many miles walked and one ditch fallen into. Howling wind, torrential rain, snow, sleet and that other phenomenon which I’ll call ‘sleesh’, which is a bit like sleet only wetter, though not quite rain, and unique to Scotland.

To be honest, I don’t know how I managed it. I had 15 grounds under my belt by the end of September and 33 before January was out. That’s ridiculous. I’m not sure I could repeat the feat and I suppose I don’t have to. But would I do it again? Don’t be daft. I had my Scottish football safari and lived to tell the tale.

It was a time of Jose Quitongo. A time when St Mirren played at Love Street and Gretna were busy living the dream. A time when the very notion of Rangers facing the threat of liquidation would’ve seemed preposterous.

I don’t remember there being so much doom and gloom around Scottish football back then in the 2006-07 season. I mean, it wasn't all magical. Some of it was dismal but it wasn't this grim.

Hey-ho.

Family Life in a Nutshell

Kara's bingeing on the latest season of Sabrina, Liam's monopolizing the bathroom, Owen's banging on the door of said bathroom, and I've just hit my 15th 180 of 2020:

15/50

Four 180s in One Day . . .

To the tune of that popular Crowded House hit . . .

"Fills my cup,
Like four 180s in one day …"

Neil Finn and the use of the word cup in his lyrics, please discuss.

14/50

Friday the 13th.

I'm making a killing.

13/50

"Make mine a double . . ."

Second 180 of the day . . . and my second 180 in a bar.

A wee disclaimer is necessary at this point. I'm neither a boozehound nor a barfly. There just happens to be a bar a few minutes from the kid's school, and a couple of days a week I'll pop into the bar 25 minutes before going home tonight, nurse a watered down one dollar diet coke and throw some darts. That time of the day the bar's empty and I can throw darts in peace:

12/50

"Joan Bakewell and Janet Street-Porter . . ."

(Darts) Legs 11.

I'm still as inconsistent as fuck but the 180s are still arriving here and there. I didn't hit my 11th 180 last year until August. It can't just be the new darts, can it?

Oh, and Joan Bakewell and Janet Street-Porter? It's a reference to Rita Hayworth. I'm sure that clears that up.

11/50

Brooklyn Fields

Second day with the new darts and for the second day running I hit two 180s in one day.


. . . That is all:

10/50

New Year's Darts Resolutions (Updated)

Second New Year's Darts Resolution achieved. 'To hit a 180 in a bar or pub'. 

It's the bar I go to when I'm doing laundry and/or picking up the kids from school. I threw for a 180 four times last night whilst the socks and undies were drying but I finally achieved it today, before picking up the kids. No one to witness it but that don't matter:

Only four more Darts Resolutions to go:

• Hit two 180s in one day.
• Hit fifty 180s in 2020.
• Hit a high of 41 - as the lowest score - in a round.
• Hit 60 sixties in a round.
• Hit a 180 in a bar.
• Towards the end of the year, join a pub team and, naturally, go down in flames in ignominious defeat.

P.S. That's my 9th 180 of 2020. I didn't hit my 9th 180 last year until the middle of July.

9/50

New Year's Darts Resolutions (Updated)

There's been a development:

• Hit two 180s in one day.
• Hit fifty 180s in 2020.
• Hit a high of 41 - as the lowest score - in a round.
• Hit 60 sixties in a round.
• Hit a 180 in a bar.
• Towards the end of the year, join a pub team and, naturally, go down in flames in ignominious defeat.

Popped up to Mid-Manhattan and, for me, paid over the odds for a proper set of darts. 90% Tungsten Original 26 Gram Dart. I guess I'm already seeing the results. For the first time ever, I've hit two 180s in one day, thus scoring through one of my New Year's Darts Resolutions. Only five more to go.

Took an age finding the place but it was worthwhile. They allowed me to practice with the darts before purchasing, and I was able to go with the heavier dart. (Previously, I've used the 21 Gram Dart.) These darts just feel more solid.

When I walked in there were these two preppy guys in their late 20s, also looking to buy some darts and we took turns trying out the different darts on a practice board which was a bit of a novelty 'cos it was one of the old boards with the narrower trebles. It took me a few throws to get used to both the board and the darts but I was doing okay. The owner then said a couple of times that my throwing was intimidating the other guys which, in retrospect, I thought was a bit dickish of him. I wasn't throwing that well. I think I'd just been playing longer than the two preppy guys. I don't know.

Oh well, onto the other resolutions. I fear a few of them will take a while.

And, yes, before you ask, I did rotate the board.

First New Year's Darts Resolution achieved. Hit two 180s in one day.

Only five more Darts Resolutions to go:

8/50

New Darts, New 180

. . . the flights came with the darts:

7/50

Buried Caesars by Stuart M. Kaminsky (Mysterious Press 1989)

And we went. Seidman trusted me enough to let me drive my Crosley ahead of him. We got to the Wilshire Station in fifteen minutes, bucking the traffic. The Wilshire had been the hotbed of police activity back in 1923 when my brother Phil joined the force. Phil had come in during Prohibition when the department was at its most corrupt. He became a cop the same month the city fathers appointed August Vollmer, the father of police science, to a one-year term to clean up the L.A.P.D. Vollmer, a clean-living police chief from Berkeley, got nowhere, and when his term was about to expire in September of 1924, billboards began to appear all over the city, saying: “THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER WILL BE THE LAST OF AUGUST.” And it was. I remember seeing the signs and asking Phil what they meant. I remember he rapped me in the head and told me to shut up.

Think Fast, Mr. Peters by Stuart M. Kaminsky (Mysterious Press 1987)

Jeremy, who had placed himself between Lorre and the glass doors, nodded and said, “I suggest we move away from these glass doors into a more protected area. It is one thing to accept our fate and quite another to tempt it.”

“But,” said Lorre, surreptitiously pulling out a silver case and removing a cigarette, “if our fate is written then we cannot tempt it, only fruitlessly seek to avoid it, in which case we become a source of amusement for the gods.”

“But,” Jeremy said solemnly, “as Schopenhauer said, ‘We must live and act as if we have a choice, a control over our futures, or we will simply sit in the corner and wait for death.’”

“Or,” said Lorre blowing out a puff of smoke, “enter into a state of meditation like certain Buddhist priests who attain the blissful state of Nirvana.”

“Hey, guys,” I said. “This is great, fascinating, but until that great come-and-get-it day, I’d like to keep my client alive, save a dentist, and eat regular. Let’s get this going.”

“As you wish,” said Lorre.”

New Year's Darts Resolutions

A bit late with these but I'll post them anyway:

• Hit two 180s in one day.
• Hit fifty 180s in 2020.
• Hit a high of 41 - as the lowest score - in a round.
• Hit 60 sixties in a round.
• Hit a 180 in a bar.
• Towards the end of the year, join a pub team and, naturally, go down in flames in ignominious defeat.

Kidding myself on?

• Hit two 180s in one day? Two 180s in one day is doable. If anything, me getting my arse in gear and posting these darting resolutions is only because I've come pretty close already this year to hitting two in one day. It should happen at some point.
• Hit fifty 180s in 2020? It appears a big ask but I've already hit six this year, and if I keep it up I can do it. If I keep it up . . . 
• Hit a high of 41 - as the lowest score - in a round? Probably the hardest one of all the resolutions. I don't even think I've ever come close to doing this. Achieving this would be a greater indicator of me significantly improving as a dart player than a hundred 180s in a calendar year. 
• Hit 60 sixties in a round? I could maybe do it as a one off but I'd have to improve my game to come even close.
• Hit a 180 in a bar? I came close a couple of times last year when I was popping into my local 2/3 times a week. I haven't been practising as much in bars recently, so achieving this goal is purely contingent on me playing in bars more.
• Towards the end of the year, join a pub team . . . ? I'd have to hit some doubles first, but why not?

Naturally I'll let the blog know if and when I achieve any of these resolutions.

Go figure . . .

. . .  yesterday I threw my worst darts in months . . . MONTHS. Today I scored my sixth 180 of 2020.

There's no rhyme or reason. It's in the laps of the Darting Gods:

6/50

Tuesday Night With Bernie

Half-listening to the dismal Democratic debate on CNN, and I hit my fifth 180 of 2020 whilst Sanders is giving his final speech of the night.

Is it a sign? . . .

. . . It's a sign I'm getting better at darts. (I didn't hit my fifth 180 in 2019 until the 5th May.)

5/50

The Terminator (1984)

Pump It Up

What rhymes with four?

A phwoar four? Do it. Do it.

4/50

Smart Moves by Stuart M. Kaminsky (Mysterious Press 1986)

The bathroom was small, a towel on the floor, the medicine cabinet partly opened. I opened it all the way and found an old straight razor, with a pearl handle and something written on it in German. I lathered, shaved without cutting my throat, looked at myself in the mirror, wiped the drops of soap from my shirt and grinned a horrible lopsided grin at the pug in the mirror who looked as if he were having a good time. It was then I decided for the two-hundredth time that the guy in the mirror was some kind of looney. My ex-wife Anne had seen it in my face long before I did, that young-old face with dancing brown eyes and a smashed nose, smiling when things were complicated and people with assorted weapons were trying to take him apart for scrap.

“This is what it’s all about,” I told the grinning fool in the mirror, not knowing what I was talking about but knowing I meant it and it was the truth. I waited for an echo to answer “Fraud,” or “Nevermore,” but there was no echo and no answer.

Number 3's a charm.

It's getting silly . . .

3/50

"My cheeks are moist."

Second 180 of 2020.

2/50

Rip roaring . . .

The 20s have officially begun:

1/50

Tremors (1990)

Flapping in the 20s . . .

I echo the sentiment . . . if not the choice of bands: