Striving for the Championship

Well, we marked off another notch in our championship race. Last night we played the team that was in second place for the second half of our dart season. We ended up beating them by one game, but we did have them up 6 -2 at one point. Oh, well, a win is a win. We will be shooting a makeup game next week, when we are supposed to have the night off. We should be able to destroy the team that we are going to play. Hopefully we can put some more space between us and our competition. I would really love to take the team title for the third year in a row as it is probably my last year shooting with my current team. My team is trying to find a way to convince me to continue playing with them. The fact that I have to drive 75 miles every Tuesday to play darts is still continuing to evade their understanding. The latest offer is for me to be able to cut Dusty's hair anyway I want to at a tournament towards the end of the year. Now Dusty has really long hair, he's been growing it since he was like a sperm. Now as much as I would like to cut him a nice Billy Ray Sirus mullet or a Tibetian Monk pony tail on the top of his head, I am just not able to make the logistics work for next year. When I started the year, I told them that they needed to find a replacement for me so that I would not have to make the trip down, well, the season continued to carry on and I got my weeks in for tournament play but they failed to find someone to shoot. Now they have seemed to forget that, and continue to say, well, you have driven down all year, I don't see why you can't just do that again next year, and reminding me how strong the team is and that we are better then most teams and other teams quake in our presence. If they were only good at guilt trips, I might feel bad, but my cat can give me a guilt trip better. One thing that I will miss if I do not continue to shoot with the team is the colorful characters that hang out at the bar we shoot out of. Last night we had a tweeker basically making love to the jukebox most of the night, a staggering drunk that could barely walk and a homeless person. The homeless person must have been asked to leave because he never got a drink and didn't stay too long. All in all another good night at Smoe's Bar.