The guys belonging to the Thursday night dart league at O’Toole’s Pub could have been arguing about anything – politics, religion, world hunger – but there was a far more pressing issue to be resolved that evening: what was the lamest sport out there?
Tom, the captain of the number one team in the league voted for baseball.
“It’s just a bunch of guys standing around for nine innings, hoping the ball isn’t hit their way,” he said.
“Yeah, but sometimes the ball is hit their way and they have to run after it. The batter has to run also,” said Brad, the captain of the number two team in the league. “My money’s on race car driving.”
“No way,” argued Brian, another Thursday night regular. “There’s a lot that goes into race car driving. You have to know when to brake, when to speed up, how to handle the turns, and you have to anticipate what the other drivers are going to do.”
“So basically, any five o’clock commute, but for people who don’t have to worry about getting nailed by radar,” Brad countered. “What do you think is the lamest sport out there, then?”
“Curling,” Brian answered. “How can any game whose outcome can be decided by a broom be considered a sport? My wife sweeps the floors at home every night after dinner, but no one’s giving her medals or signing her up for product endorsements.”
“Hey guys, you do know that you belong to a dart league, right?” asked their server, Chantelle. “Shall I get you another round, or are you in training for the playoffs?”
Well played, Chantelle. If sarcastic comebacks were a sport, you’d be in the Hall of Fame, for sure.