My brother and I were drinking one night, a lot, and playing darts. He was standing near the dartboard, it was my turn. I threw a dart that hit him dead center of his forehead. Clearly, my math failed. Thus I became a Philosopher and Theologian.
Watching old guys play darts is amazing at times. Their maths are great, especially when they get near a finish. One glance and they can go treble 29, 15, double 16 to finish.
The best part about darts is that the kings of the sport are slovenly, brown-teethed chain-smoking drunken balding oafs. The numbers are worked out in their minds thanks to years of hustling suckers to pay rent & buy cigarettes.
Cute, but cruel. Darts is a working-class sport. Mental arithmetic has always been a working-class skill: you need to know your weights, measures, etc, to make sure your punters get a deal and you don't get a raw one.
It’s calculus dude. Drunks are giga bosses at the abstract. Sit in a bar for around 20 mins. and the information you see and hear will expand your mind more than DMT ever could. Doctorate degrees have certain numbers of hours while inebriated requirements.
Comments
Triple 19? I don't know -- like 30-something? Pass me that beer.
If i was teaching math i would run tournaments of 501/301 fly in double out.
Darts is a) British [bad teeth] and b) played in pubs [by drunks]
So you speak the truth.