Nope, I’m Done. Foolish Cricket and Manners

My husband and I run an invite only tournament every year called Foolish Cricket.  This year it ran the best it has ever ran.  Part of that is because we used Dart Connect, a scoring app designed for steel-tip darts.  The other was due to players respecting the rules.

For those that don’t understand darts, it’s hard to imagine, but this tournament is a round robin and in prior years has taken about 15 hours of constant play.  This year, we did it in 12 1/2.  That’s a lot of darts thrown in a single day.

People that come year after year will tell you it’s the tournament they love to hate.  I get it.  Players are on their feet for most of the day.  Breaks are few and short.  Leaving is impossible until you lose.

This year, several newcomers were able to join us.  It was wonderful and difficult for most of them.  After they had lost, the majority told me how much fun they had and how much harder it is than a normal tournament.

However, I’m going to emphasize most.  We had one woman this year that bitched and whined about everything,  She even accused another player of doing something that player wasn’t doing (intentionally delaying matches by leaving the building).  And forfeited her round to her by throwing her score sheet at the young man I beg to run the tournament for me every year.

I can deal with most tantrums.  This one though, she just pushed it too far.  After her tantrum about Dart Player X, she was asked if she wanted to go ahead and play that match… That’s when she changed her story and complained that her foot was hurting her.  I was going to say something to her, but was told not to.  We all know she is a difficult human being, there was no need for me to lose my composure over something as small as this.

I decided Player X, who gave me that advice, was right and I let it go.  If Player X wasn’t going to be mad, then I wouldn’t be either.  And that worked for most of the day.

Until she started telling people that my husband didn’t know how to run a tournament.  I didn’t punch her in the face, which is what I wanted to do.  I didn’t scream at her or set her on fire, despite both crossing my mind.  Instead I talked about it a little bit with some of my friends and told my husband she was never allowed back.  I think I took the high road here and should get a gold star.

I was there for over 14 hours Saturday.  I had to return Sunday to assist with clean-up.  I’ve mentioned the nerve blockers have worn off and I was in so much pain – just from running around, standing, and sitting in those awful chairs all day – that I came home and cried Saturday night.  I came home Sunday, went to take a nap, and cried myself to sleep.  It got so bad Saturday, that I had to take my shoes off so that I could feel the floor under my feet.  Sounds strange, but when my lower legs start to hurt to the point that they feel like the bones have been crushed, I guess the nerves in my legs are so hyperactive, that they do not allow my brain to process the sensations from my feet.

As Sunday wore on, I began to really regret not confronting her.  Yes, I believe in diplomacy and being nice.  I’m not a fighter.  I don’t even like confrontation.  But she didn’t just throw a tantrum… She disrespected my husband, myself, and all the players that love Foolish Cricket.  She needed to be called out on it.

She’s the kind of person that makes everyone around her miserable.  Her negativity and lying grates on everyone’s nerves.  Her constant complaining makes everyone else feel uncomfortable.

Foolish Cricket always makes people miserable the next day, but it’s “I’m so sore” and “I can barely move my arms” kind of miserable.  In other words, the good kind of miserable for a dart player.  Emotionally, it’s fulfilling to play that many games and know you did your best.

But with her around, it was emotionally draining.  I can say that I have never wished a dart player would stop playing darts… but I’ll make an exception for this one.  She gives the sport a bad name and tries to make other dart players feel like they are beneath her. After Saturday, I have decided: I don’t like her.  I don’t respect her.  I don’t think she should be allowed to come to darting events.  And I sure as hell know she will never be invited back to any tournament that I host or run.

Which is sad, because I consider most dart players family.

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