www.whyville.net Nov 25, 2012 Weekly Issue



Zicker
Guest Writer

A Game of Darts

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I used to enjoy playing darts. I loved sending each missile flying. Especially hitting the bulls-eye - it was my favorite part of the game. I got so much self-satisfaction when my missiles landed, hit and finally punctured the board, right in the heart. Stabbing the board, letting the pain leak boosted my self-confidence, knowing I was in control, breaking that board. I was the player.

It wasn't until many years later when I realized what it felt like to be the center of the game, the part of the game that everyone gangs up on to beat. Chucking darts at me; first puncturing confidence, then pride, and self-esteem, until the game players hit me where they intended- right in the heart.

Bulls-eye. Each time they hit bulls-eye, they got better and better at the game. Time went on and they enjoyed it more and more until it was their favorite game to play. Puncturing me in different places that mattered with their darts heightened their self-esteem and love for themselves.

Why did I let them do it? I don't know. Maybe it's because they had the power over me. Standing there with their elite gang, taking turns at skimming darts through the air. I was all alone against the wall, perfect target for them to aim for and hit. The dart board never fights back.

Many years later I got sick of being the dart board. I didn't want to be the gutless target. But there was a problem: I didn't want to be the striker either. I had been there, done that. Now that I knew what it felt like to be the target, I didn't want to puncture pride like I used to.

So I found a solution. I stopped playing the game altogether. I had given up on darts. Instead I tried swimming, volleyball, bike riding - anything that didn't involve throwing needles at an unmoving target. No one threw knifes at me while I played those games.

The new sports helped to heighten my confidence in a different way from playing darts. I even gained great friends interested in the same sports as I. In these sports nobody was picked on while alone. In volleyball and such we worked in teams with equal numbers and accepted any defeats, together, with our combined strength. Swimming and such had equal numbers too- me against myself. It was much fairer.

Now whenever I see a game of darts happening I never participate. Sometimes I even try and steer the game players away to a more productive game. However never have I had the confidence to step in the firing range with the dart board, just to make numbers equal. I'm working on it.

Maybe one day I'll have the courage to step in and do that. But for now I honor the people who can, and am grateful for the people who stepped in and took the darts for me. My best friend, however much afraid of needles she may be took many lethal shots for me. Which is why, if ever in the future I pray I will have the courage to return the selfless, heroic favor.

I honor anyone who made their way out of the firing range; anyone who rubbed the sign saying 'target' off themselves. I honor anyone who dropped the darts and abandoned the game for something less vicious. And I continue to hope, that one day there will be no such game as deadly and dangerous as darts.

 

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