Cornhole – Regular Guy

Time for a Party

brian — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 02:14:34 +0000

In the aftermath of my 40^th birthday recently, I noticed something about the gifts I received. Almost every one had something to do with food or beer.

Part of me wondered what this said about me. Do I drink too much or do I just enjoy quality beer? Am I a glutton or do I just enjoy eating out? Am I so hard to buy for that people just fall back on the simplest gift?

After talking to my wife, I realized that I had no room to complain. I liked getting beer and oft cards for restaurants. Outside of someone dropping big bucks to give me a Wii, I really didn’t want anything special for my birthday. I really appreciated that people knew my tastes so well.

For a while, it looked like I would get very few gifts. I had said for months that I wanted to celebrate my 40^th in style. I wanted to rent out a pavilion or go to some fun location and have a big party.

I had no qualms about turning 40. I know inside, I feel and act a lot younger. I see no point in getting worried over a number.

Then I realized an event like that would require a lot of work. I didn’t know if I cared enough to put in that much time and effort to be honest. I just let the idea die.

At some point in July, Maria asked me if I wanted a party. I hemmed and hawed for part of a day trying to decide.

I did, but I knew that she would end up doing a lot of work. I didn’t want to saddle her with that just to boost my self-esteem.

But who doesn’t love a good boost to their self-esteem? I told her I did want a party, but tried to do what I could to make sure she didn’t kill herself with work.

My wife fits the “hostess with the mostest” bill perfectly, so the potential for her going overboard really existed. Luckily, she kept things simple, and we ended up with a small cookout for some family and friends.

I am really glad I decided to go ahead with a party. I spent a decent amount of time manning the grill, cooking way too much food. We had lots of good grub and some wonderful beverages to go with it.

We even broke out the cornhole boards for some of our friends to see just why the game is so much fun.

I didn’t want gifts, but some people did bring presents. I appreciated that, but the real gift was spending the day with the people who make you realize that turning 40 is a good thing. The milestone simply means I have had some great times and collected some amazing memories along the way.

I only regret that no one thought I deserved a Wii to commemorate the occasion. I could probably use that new Wii Fit thing to get back in shape after I enjoy the rest of my presents.

Dethroned

brian — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 18:46:23 +0000

After 22 years, my family’s annual trek to the beach has gained a certain kind of routine.

My oldest sisters head down to the beach early to set out a cadre of chairs so we can reserve precious space on the sand.

One night, we meet at the boardwalk in Rehoboth Beach to all get on the bumper cars together and take out a year’s worth of frustrations.

And we all repair to our favorite games in the arcade most nights – a few on skeeball, a few on a game we have dubbed “Lucky Duck” and the rest scattered amongst claw machines and other games to entertain the younger set.

The two years before this trip, something else has helped maintain normalcy during beach week. I won the annual cornhole tournament those years along with John, my niece’s husband.

We looked to put together an unprecedented three-peat this year. I felt so confident, I even left my championship belt back in Hanover.

Either that or I’m absent-minded and didn’t even think about packing it. Take your choice.

When we got to Bethany, I had no idea when we would get a chance to defend our crown. Over the past few years, the number of organized activities has grown. This has led to a backlash of not planning when we do those activities until the last minute.

I have no problem with that mindset, actually. I don’t come on vacation to stick to a schedule. I knew that, by the time we went home, we would have played cornhole, gone to Rehoboth for the rides, enjoyed a crab feast and survived another house crawl. I didn’t really care which night I did each of those things.

After a little discussion while watching the Home Run Derby on Monday night, the group decided to play cornhole on Tuesday night. I immediately started to get myself into the proper mental state by checking to make sure we had enough beer in the fridge.

Only John and I knew who our partner would be until the draw was made 15 minutes before the tournament started. As defending champs, we got to stay together. Everyone else ended up with their names in a hat. My 2-year-old great niece did most of the work picking the names because no one could complain to her if they didn’t like their partner.

After an easy first-round victory, John and I took on my oldest nephew Mike and his partner in the second round. At some point during the game, Mike’s partner taunted me. His partner was my lovely wife.

Maria and Mike jumped to an early lead, but John and I got ourselves back together and closed the gap. Eventually, we went ahead. A crowd had gathered. Tension filled the air as John I I moved to within one point of victory.

Maria had the bags in her hand and someone encouraged her to make a big shot and score the winning points. The comment could have been misconstrued as an off-color remark, and Maria quickly replied with a deadpan, “that’s what she said.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, then she sank a cornhole, which put her and Mike in the lead. I couldn’t get the points I needed, and they won. The defending champs went out in a thriller.

I guess that’s OK. We still finished all our other activities. I just need to find that belt and send it to the new champs.

Merry Cornholey Night

brian — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 15:16:49 +0000

Tonight, my family will play cornhole. If you don’t know what cornhole is, shame on you. This marks one of the two major cornhole events on the Shea family calendar.

I have not won Cornholey Night in its three year existence. Maria won one year so I have a lot of motivation.

I have proven myself as a warm weather cornhole player with two Bethany Beanbag Classic titles to my name. Maybe it’s the fact that I tend to drink a fair amount during those events, but don’t at Cornholey Night because I have to drive home.

Whatever the deal is, I hope to change things tonight along with my nephew Sean, my partner. Names are drawn to create teams (except for the defending champions) which livens the night up a lot.

As you wait in anticipation for the results, check out the video below to show you why cornhole is America’s greatest game.

Cornhole Champ

brian — Mon, 07 Aug 2006 03:57:48 +0000

As a younger man, I had a decent athletic career. I was a pretty good wrestler in high school and managed to compete all four years in college with a record near .500. Since then, I haven’t done so much. Sure, I had some success coaching in Maryland, but left that all behind six years ago.

The tables turned a few weeks ago on vacation. I returned to my championship form.

Not in wrestling though. This time, I conquered cornhole.

If you recall, my family discovered the beanbag toss game called cornhole last summer. The event perfectly fit our lazy, beer-drinking ways, especially during our beach vacation.

In the first two family events where I competed, I came up empty. But the winds were just right and the beers just cold enough at the beach as I came home with the Bethany Beanbag Classic (BBC) title along with my partner John, who is married to one of my nieces.

This may seem trivial to some people, but we took down the dynasty of my nephew Pat and niece Kerry, last year’s BBC winners. Pat had been on the winning team in all three family competitions, so this was monumental.

Of course, any good championship needs a little controversy. There were two sets of beanbags used during the tournament. The lighter set favored our opponents. We dominated with the heavier set.

After we split the first two games of the best-of-three finals, we had to decide what bags to use for the rubber match. I desperately wanted to use the heavier bags, even though they had Yankee logos all over them. The sacrifices athletes make to cover themselves in glory.

Anyways, we ended up flipping a coin, and the finals proceeded with the heavy bags. Game, set, match. We won the title belts. And there were real title belts, one of which now resides in my basement.

I really feel like some sort of divine intervention took place for John and I to win the title. After all, I was almost killed earlier in the day.

While riding go-karts that morning, one of my goddaughters lost control of her car, crashed into me and drove my car up on top of the barrier in the middle of the race track.

The guys working the track came over to help me, but ended up scratching their heads and admitting that no one had ever ended up in that position before. I was honored.

They had to remove the plastic shell of the car and move the go-kart back onto the track to let me continue the race. Even with that brush with mortality, I had to finish the race.

After all, that’s what beach week is all about – going beyond the normal to achieve the extraordinary. If I had walked away from the race, I might not have been able to muster the courage to take part in the annual family bumper car extravaganza.

And if you can’t bring yourself to drive small a bumper car into your brothers and sisters, you don’t deserve to wear the cornhole championship belt.

Cornholey Night

brian — Mon, 02 Jan 2006 05:02:52 +0000

Twas the night before Christmas
And on the driveway
Cornhole players were fueled
By beer and chardonnay

The boards were laid out
With meticulous care
Family pride was at stake
Tension filled the air

The teams were decided
The matchups were set
We filled out our brackets
Yes, we even bet

The kids went first
What a cute little sight
They picked up the bags
And tossed with all their might

Bridget and Jill won first place
Connor slid down the board, like he was flying
Brendan, Molly and Caroline made it known
They’ll be playing with the adults in no time

After present opening and merry making
The main event finally got underway
Pat, a two-time champ, was the favorite
Paired with novice Maria, would it be his day?

The bags were flying, the trash was talked
We have a new way to celebrate
Someone even brought out
Some goodies on a plate

One by one, as teams started to fall
A murmur went through the throng
Maria was starting to get it
Just what was going on?

Bobo and I had also put together
A couple of winning games
Would I meet Maria in the final?
The house would never be the same

This Cornholey Night took forever
But we managed not to freeze
Despite all of our hoots and hollers
No one called the police

The semifinals produced great drama
But my team came up empty
On the other side, Pat and Maria
Squeaked out a victory

The final was set, the stakes unveiled
Pat and Maria against Vicki and Den
The gaggle of Sheas wondered
Could Pat really win again?

Best two out of three to 21 points
They would play for family pride
And a hideous statue and mink stole
That my late mother left behind

The bags started flying
The cheers filled the night
Maria and Vicki
Threw cornholes left and right

Maria joined Pat won it all
The stole on my wife was quite a sight
We hugged and laughed and went inside
After a fantastic Cornholey Night

Watch Your Cornhole

brian — Sun, 24 Jul 2005 17:42:47 +0000

One of the great things about a family vacation is the things you learn. Maybe a sibling tells you a secret. Maybe you discover a new place to eat. Or maybe you discover the greatest game in the history of the world.

I started to play cornhole down the beach.

I know I have made proclamations in the past about my devotion to a new activity, but I mean it this time. Cornhole has changed my life.

For the uninitiated, cornhole is similar to horseshoes except you use wooden boxes called cornhole platforms and bean bags filled with corn instead of metal stakes and horseshoes.

Like horseshoes, you play with a partner, tossing from opposite ends of the court. A bag on the board scores one point while getting one of your bags through the hole nets you three points. Games go to 21.

But the best part about cornhole is that you can play anywhere and anyone can learn the game. Even me.

When we returned home from the beach, I jumped on the computer to try and find other cornhole enthusiasts. I knew the game had roots in Ohio because I had heard friends from there mention it before.

The American Cornhole Association (ACA) is based in Cincinnati and has around 1,500 members across the country. Make that 1,501 since I submitted my membership.

I hope that sparks a growth in the game across Pennsylvania. I don’t want to see Ohio control the game.

My niece’s husband John, who is more like a Shea than any other member of my family, introduced us to the game on vacation. This baffles me because he’s from Maryland and lives in North Carolina. But I don’t argue about these things.

I wonder how he knew we would enjoy a game that required no athletic ability, allowed players to remain stationary for almost the entire time and gave us the opportunity to drink a beer while playing.

They should just call the game Shea.

I only got a chance to play a couple nights, but the rental house where John stayed had nightly cornhole games. At first, they used the neighbors drive way since no one was staying there for much of the week. When cars appeared there, they moved to the street.

They even played the game on the beach, convincing the lifeguards that cornhole was exempt from the “No tossing objects” rule on the beach. Cornhole has a power over all, I tell you.

People would stop and watch us play. I kept looking for a news van to show up and record our march toward cornhole history, but they must have had trouble understanding the directions.

I don’t know how that happened unless there was some other street hosting a cornhole game with spectators sitting in beach chairs or standing on the deck, hurling commentary at family members.

We finished the week at the beach with a family cornhole tournament, something I hope becomes a new tradition. I want to get the event sanctioned by the ACA so the Shea family can begin to dominate the national rankings.

Everybody has to have a dream.