Somehow, I have managed to live 32 of my 34 years of life in the great state of Indiana and still have not managed to become even a mediocre corn-hole player.
Scratch that, I can take home the prize for the worst corn-hole contest EVER. SEEN. (Even taking cartoon exaggerations into account.)
And I married a baseball man. Not just a spectator, but like, until HE was 34 years old, he played, and did OK at it. He can usually hit his mark when he is throwing.
So, when we go camping, and I somehow get this brilliant idea to toss a cornhole set in the car (but somehow fail to bring a single board game or deck of cards???), hilarity ensues.
I don’t have pictures, I was too busy living in the moment, so I am going to have to try to paint a picture with words.
He starts, tossing 7/8 bags straight through the hole without even touching the board. Ugh, he makes me sick.
Then it’s my turn. I hit the car (which was parked some 10 feet behind the board). I hit my husband’s head. I nailed a tree- 25 feet to the left. And two bags landed 2 inches in front of my shoes. Which, yes, were on my feet. Basically, I got those little sacks of beans all over our campsite AND the neighbors! In fact, they stopped playing guitar and signing in order stare, mouths agape at my bean sack tossing prowess.
My husband goes. This time getting 8/8 right through that hole. Next time, his board is going further back… like ALL THE WAY IN THE WOODS, DIRECTLY BEHIND A TREE.
This time when I start to toss, my husband moves the board closer to me. As if THAT is going to help! I tried, this time, I got two sacks UNDER the front of the board. A sack 3 inches from the campfire. A sack tossed OVER the car. And one in the hole. YESSS I ROCK!
I am not even going to go over how my husband did the next round. Suffice it to say that he thought a new goal of tossing under the board (inspired by me, I might add!) looked fun.
The next round, my husband decides I clearly need extreme help, so he picks up the board and holds it for me. I toss, he attempts (key word) to move the board to the bag. That succeeded for about 6 out of 8 of my bags!!! Yes! I am a Hoosier now, baby! That was fun.
So, we have some new rules now. Husband’s board goes behind a tree. Husband holds my board and moves it to whatever random location my hands toss the bags. Sounds fair to me.
How did I do for a no actual pictures post? 😉
I hope you got a good light-hearted laugh at my expense. Tips for how to actually succeed at cornhole when you have no hand-eye coordination are welcome.